Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story

by K. L. O'Keefe

  “Lord Montforth,” James repeated. “Are you unwell?”

  Roland finally scraped his gaze from the floor. “What? Oh... you'll have to pardon me. I am still unaccustomed to being called by that name. Please, my lord, call me Roland. Or Rolly, if it tickles your fancy.”

  “Well, Roland...” Lord Charmington cleared his throat before continuing, “I was just thinking you looked glum. Am I wrong to think there is a storm cloud over your head?”

  “It is a good thing there isn't a storm cloud over his head, or he would be quite wet!” Georgiana said with a giggle. Her failed attempt at humor was met with silence.

  A few seconds later, Rolly moaned, “She won't marry me.”

  Lord Charmington raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

  “She won't marry me!” Rolly repeated in anguish. “That stupid chit won't marry me!” He felt Jemima kick him under the table, so he added, “That is to say, uh... pay no attention to my mindless ramblings, Lord Charmington. Oftentimes I will erupt in an unbridled stream of consciousness. It makes no more sense to me than it does to you.”

  “So, my lord!” Jemima spoke up, swiftly changing the subject. “Was the guest room to your liking? How did you sleep?”

  James looked down at his arm, on which there were three red bumps. The bugs had eaten him alive. “Well enough, my lady.”

  “I slept extraordinarily well!” Georgiana bragged. “The key to a good sleep is to clear your mind of all thoughts. Was there something on your mind, my lord?”

  “There was.”

  “And what might that be?” Georgiana pressed. Your painstaking feelings for me, perhaps?

  “I... cannot say.”

  As she sliced her ham, a grin snaked across Georgiana's lips. His inability to express himself was all the confirmation she needed. In her mind, she was certain Lord Charmington was smitten with her.

  * * *

  Cynthia knew he was coming well before he arrived. His thunderous footsteps were the first indication. Then she heard his voice squawking, “TESS, I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING!”

  Cynthia tried to grab a blanket, but she was too late. She was standing in the middle of the room when Robert threw open the door.

  And she was wearing her undergarments.

  “Robert!” Cynthia shrieked. “Why didn't you knock!?”

  “Ehh... sorry.” However, his apology couldn't possibly be genuine, because he kept staring at her in her petticoat and bodice.

  Grumbling, Cynthia whisked a blanket from her bed and wrapped it around her half-naked form. As she tucked the blanket around her body, she yelled, “Well?! Are you going to leave or what?”

  Robert stuck his head through the doorway and scanned the entire room. “So Tess isn't here, I take it?”

  “NO!”

  “Alright then. I guess I'll, uh... excuse meeself then?”

  “Yes!” Cynthia stomped across the room and shoved him into the hallway. “Excuse yourself, for goodness sake!”

  When the door was closed, Cynthia leaned against the wall and heaved a sigh.

  Robert Sweeney was the most frustrating man in the world.

  * * *

  There was no escaping him. She was paired with Robert, as usual, and they were making the beds. As she fluffed the pillows, Cynthia rolled her eyes and asked, “So, what were you going to say to Tess that required such urgency?”

  “Just that I'll no longer be living here at Montforth Hall.”

  “What?! You're leaving?!” Cynthia's panicked reaction surprised her. As frustrating as he was, she was getting used to working with him. “W-well... will they be hiring another servant? Are they going to replace you?”

  “I'm not quitting,” Robert explained. “I'm just not going to live in the servants' quarters anymore. I'm going to live in town. With my Gram.”

  “Oh.”

  Her apathy made him chuckle. “Are you disappointed, Princess? Were you hoping for another partner? Someone less loquacious, perhaps?”

  “Loquacious?! That's an impressive word!”

  Robert smoothed the bedsheets and tucked them in as tightly as he could. “An impressive word for a servant?”

  “An impressive word for anyone,” Cynthia said.

  “Just because I'm lowborn, that doesn't mean I'm stupid.” When he finished making the bed, Robert stepped back to admire his work. “Education and intelligence are hardly the same thing!”

  “I'm sure you're right, Robert. I did not mean to offend you.”

  “Offend?” Robert stuffed his hands into his pockets and swaggered toward her. “Trust me, it'll take more than that to offend me. I'm not easily offended.”

  When Robert held out his arm, Cynthia took it. Together, they traveled to the next room, which happened to be Georgiana's, and her bed was in terrible disarray. It was as if a small hurricane had ravaged her blankets. Cynthia grunted as she approached the bed. “I think she left it this way on purpose!” she complained. “She wants to make more work for me!”

  “Either that, or she's a rough sleeper,” Robert observed. “Anyway, when are you going to ask me about my Gram? You're not curious about why I'm going to stay with her?” When Robert glanced at Cynthia, he caught her wavering on her feet. As soon as she steadied herself, she closed her eyes and clutched her forehead. “Cynthia... are you alright?”

  “I'm exhausted,” Cynthia admitted. “I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in days!”

  “If you aren't well, you shouldn't be working.” Robert pointed to a chair in Georgiana's room. “Let's get you off your feet. Why don't you sit down for a bit?”

  “But I should help you...”

  “No, sit,” Robert insisted. “Making a bed isn't what I'd call hard work, Princess. I think I can manage on my own.”

  Cynthia was feeling light-headed; she didn't have the heart to protest further. She sank into the chair and started rubbing her neck, which was, for some reason, sore. “Are body aches a symptom of sleepless nights, or do you think I might be getting ill?” As she watched him pull the blankets across the bed, her eyelids fluttered.

  “I'm no doctor, so I'm not about to make any guesses. But if you haven't slept in days, that can't be good. Your body requires it.”

  “It isn't fair!” she suddenly said.

  “What isn't fair?” He didn't know why he asked; Cynthia's entire life was an opus of unfairness.

  “It...” Cynthia pursed her lips before she continued. How much of her heart's pain did she want to divulge to Robert? He wasn't exactly a friend, but she had no one else to talk to. However, he knew more about her situation than anyone. “It isn't fair that Georgiana gets to have breakfast with Lord Charmington, while I'm up here slaving away!”

  “To be fair,” Robert pointed out, “you're not exactly slaving away at the moment. You're sort of... sitting.”

  “You're the one who told me to sit! And now you're complaining that I'm not helping?!”

  “Oh, I'm not complaining.” Robert shrugged. “Just pointing out the obvious.”

  Frowning, Cynthia turned her eyes to the ground. “I should have known better than to talk to you...”

  “Awww, don't say that. I'm a good listener! And I completely understand where you're coming from.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes!” Robert slapped one of the pillows so hard, it squirted a few feathers. “It should be you down there with Lord Magnificent!”

  “Exactly... although... I am sure you're just mocking me.”

  “Why would I be mocking you? I completely support your love affair with Magnificent.”

  Once again, Cynthia was rolling her eyes. She wanted to tell him it was hardly a love affair, but correcting him was a waste of breath. She could never tell when Robert was being serious or when he was making a wisecrack.

  “He's a bit dull, but I can see the appeal,” Robert said. “Those dreamy eyes of his!” He clasped a hand over his heart, threw back his head, and drew a sharp breath. “Charmington indeed!”


  “How would you know if he's dull? You've never spoken to him!”

  “True. All I can do is admire him from afar. It's a tragedy, really...” When he saw the puzzled look on her face, he added, “I'm not serious, you know. I don't fancy him.”

  “I know you don't. You're poking fun at my situation!”

  “No I'm not.”

  “Yes you are!”

  Robert shook his head. “No I'm not. Anyway, my poor Gram! You're not the least bit concerned about her plight?”

  “Oh...” It was the third time he had mentioned his grandmother, but she failed to acknowledge it. Cynthia didn't want Robert to think she was completely and utterly self-consumed. “What about your grandmother?”

  “She's ill.”

  “Oh...” Cynthia repeated. “I am sorry to hear about that.”

  “Well... she's old. Eighty, if she's a day. She's had a long life. Her health is on the decline, so I'm going to live with her for a while... to take care of her, you know.”

  Cynthia closed her eyes as she listened to him speak about his grandmother. “That's very noble of you.”

  “She's a sweet lady,” Robert continued. “She's always been poor, but she never let it get her down. When I was a wee lad, my family would visit her every summer. I'm from Ireland, as you know, so it was quite a long journey, but the trip was always worthwhile. My Gram made the best treacle. She still does, as far as I know. Well... the least I can do is look after her during her twilight years... or days, depending on how much time she has left. I'm still hoping she'll outlive me. She's a strong old lady. She's--” Robert's voice trailed off when he noticed Cynthia's heavy breathing. It seemed that she had fallen asleep during his monologue. In a whisper, he said to himself, “It's good to know I'm so compelling...”

  When he finished making the bed, Robert approached Cynthia. Very carefully, he slipped his arms around her and lifted her out of the chair. Cynthia's sleep must have been deep, because she did not stir in the slightest. Robert carried her to the servants' quarters, to Tess and Cynthia's room, and deposited her on the bed. If Cynthia was asleep, it meant he would have to tackle their chores on his own, but Robert didn't care. Cynthia needed to rest.

  He wasn't completely heartless.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As Lord Charmington gazed out the window, he said, “It looks like the snow has melted enough for me to travel. I should probably take my leave.”

  “No!” Georgiana's response was so adamant, it had her looking a bit sheepish. She was enjoying his company too much to let him go. “I, uh... that is to say, my lord, there is still a light dusting on the ground. Even a little snow could be dangerous.” She stood beside him at the window and pointed at the single flake that scuttled toward the ground. “And it is still snowing!”

  “Barely, Lady Georgiana,” James said with a chuckle. “I have already overstayed my welcome as it is.”

  “Nonsense.” As she spoke, Jemima laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder and guided her back to the settee. The mother knew it would not be in their best interest to be too forward with Lord Charmington. “You could never overstay your welcome. But... be that as it may, I can understand your desire to return home. I am sure your mother is worried about you.”

  “I am sure you're right... I should leave at once. However, I...” During his moment of hesitation, an image of Cynthia's beautiful face flashed before his eyes. He could not stomach the thought of leaving without saying goodbye to the woman who mattered most. “I have a few belongings to collect from my room. As soon as I retrieve them, I will meet you in the foyer.”

  “Lord Charmington!”

  When she heard Georgiana squeaking his name, Jemima shook her head. She could only pray her daughter would not say anything too off-putting.

  “Yes, Lady Georgiana?”

  “When will you return?” Georgiana asked. “To Montforth Hall? You'll call on us again, I hope?”

  “Of course.” Lord Charmington bowed to her as he slipped through the doorway. “I will not be a stranger.”

  When the door was closed, and James was gone, Georgiana heaved a dreamy sigh. “Oh, mama!” she exclaimed. “Mama, mama, mama!”

  Jemima reached over and patted her daughter's arm. Edith, whose attention was fixed on her needlepoint, was silently rolling her eyes. “What is it, dear?”

  “I've never felt this way before! My pulse races, my tongue is tied, my palms perspire. I know exactly what this feeling is!” Georgiana collapsed against the arm of the settee and flailed her arms. “I love him!”

  * * *

  “I cannot believe I fell asleep!” Cynthia rubbed her eyes and erupted with a yawn. Despite her nap, she did not feel any more well-rested than she did before. In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, she was more tired than ever. “How long was I asleep?”

  Robert was sitting across from her at the table, whittling a chunk of wood with a small knife. Keeping his eyes on his carving, he said, “Three hours.”

  “Three hours?! I should be ashamed of myself! I should have been working!”

  “Nah. You needed sleep. You should take it when you can get it.” Robert blew on his carving, and a few wood chips scattered across the table.

  “How did I get to my room? Did you carry me?!” When she saw Robert nod, she groaned. “Did anyone see you carrying me?!”

  “Aye. Everyone saw it. Lord Montforth, Lord Magnificent, Lady Georgiana. It's the talk of Montforth Hall, and that's no exaggeration. They're all whispering about the roguishly handsome man who carried you in his arms.”

  “Are you serious?!”

  “No.”

  “Grr.” Cynthia glared at him from across the table. “Do you ever take anything seriously!?”

  “Only when I need to.” Robert put his feet on the table and crossed them at the ankle. When he peered at her over his boots, Cynthia was sneering at him. “What's with that face?”

  “You're so... so...” Cynthia tried to think of the perfect word. Vexing wasn't good enough. “Exasperating!”

  A self-satisfied smile lifted his lips. “Great. It's working.”

  Cynthia tried to shove his feet off the table, but they wouldn't budge. “You know...” she began, “if Tess was here, she would yell at you for putting your feet on the table!”

  “Then it's a good thing Tess isn't here, I suppose.”

  “Robert...”

  “Yes?” He put down his piece of wood and pocketed his knife, giving her his undivided attention.

  “I'm sorry I feel asleep,” she said. “And when you were telling me about your grandmother, no less. I feel guilty. I don't want to appear as if I am insensitive. If your grandmother is someone you care about, and she's ill, then my heart goes out to you. I know what it's like to lose someone you love.”

  “It's alright, Princess. Don't be too hard on yourself. You know, you should meet my Gram. She's a lovely old woman.”

  “I would love to meet her. We should--”

  Before Cynthia could finish, the door to the servants' quarters was flung open, and an unexpected guest stepped inside.

  “Lord Charmington!” Cynthia gasped. “Why are you... when did you...” Now that she had seen his face, her wits were addled. She could not string together a proper sentence to save her life!

  “I had to see you,” James said. “I had to see you... just one more time.”

  Cynthia rose from her chair and cautiously approached the earl. “Are you alright?”

  James was tempted to throw his arms around her, but he managed to restrain himself. As timid as she seemed, he did not want to frighten her. “I just wanted to see you before I left. Your face... it uplifts me. I needed to see it one more time.” He ran a thumb along her cheek. “Am I still coming to paint you?”

  “I... think so.” Cynthia slid a glance in the direction of Robert, who made no attempt to disguise the fact that he was staring at them. His eyes were unabashedly locked on Cynthia and Lord Charmington.

  “May I kiss you?”
James whispered. “Before I go...?”

  “I don't think that's such a good idea. Not while Robert is here.”

  For the first time, Lord Charmington acknowledged the other man's presence. “Why? He isn't your... he's not your...?”

  “No.” Though he did not complete his question, Cynthia could guess what he might be thinking. “Robert and I are only friends, but... it would feel awkward if I was to kiss you in front of him.”

  “I understand.” James heaved a sigh. “That's all the more reason why I need to get you alone.”

  Cynthia could feel her stomach clench. Alone? She hoped he did not have anything inappropriate planned for their painting session. She wanted him to respect her, not to regard her as a potential chere amie. “I am glad you came to see me, my lord, but I should really get back to work.”

  James grumbled something inaudible. “Very well. But I'll see you in a few days?”

  “Yes. In a few days.”

  “Then I will wait with bated breath.” Before leaving the room, James took her hand and brushed a kiss across the back of it. “Until we meet again.”

  “Farewell, my lord.”

  “Farewell, my sweetest Cynthia.”

  When he left the room, Cynthia's entire body was tense and tingly. For the first time in her life, her heart had been lit, and every glimpse of his face was kindling for the fire.

  “Well, well...” Robert spoke up. “It looks like someone has an admirer in Lord Magnificent!” He slipped a hand over his mouth and chortled into the palm of his hand.

  “Maybe so... at least, I can only hope.” Cynthia continued to stare at the door. She could still feel his absence; it had left a hole in her soul. “And he certainly has an admirer in me.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Robert...” Cynthia tugged on his sleeve as they traveled down the hallway. “Robert, I have a favor to ask of you.”

  He stopped walking and turned in her direction. “Oh no. What is it?”