by Kate Pearce
“He’s off helping Mr. Drake in the Great Hall. He said he thinks his employer will be arriving soon.” Mary winked at her. “He was looking for you like a long-lost puppy.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” Henrietta replied. Unless he wanted to apologize for treating her like the servant he obviously thought she was. She’d only been in his room because Mrs. Bray had asked her to search all the quarters, and he’d reacted to her questions as if he had something to hide.
“There’s no time to worry about that,” Henrietta told herself firmly. She had a future to plan that didn’t include worrying about a man who acted as if he was the lord of the manor rather than the lowly valet. “You have a lot to accomplish today, starting with arranging the flowers in the Great Hall.”
She gathered as much greenery as she could in her basket and went up the stairs to the Great Hall, which had stood within the castle walls since medieval times. As a child, she’d loved hiding in the huge fireplace and relished all the stories of whole suckling pigs and sides of beef being cooked on revolving spits over the flames.
After centuries of use, the blackened stones at the rear of the fire would never be clean. Henrietta knew this personally because, when she was a child, one of her punishments had been to clean them with a scrubbing brush and a bucket of water. Today, the stone hearth had been swept clean and the high mantelpiece topped with candles.
She considered the foliage in her basket, aware of the noise echoing from the other end of the hall where the servants were moving furniture around. There were a few disgruntled-looking ghosts gathered in the minstrel’s gallery. They always hated disruptions, although she suspected they’d all enjoy the weddings on the morrow. It was nice to see the castle in all its glory, hosting the large wedding party and the Yule Ball in the evening.
Henrietta selected a swathe of holly berries and draped them along the back of the mantelpiece. She continued adding branches until she had covered the whole length, and then placed amongst the greenery some of the more precious white and red flowers that would match the colors of the wedding party.
“That is very pretty.”
Henrietta looked over her shoulder to see Miss Holly Prescott studying the fireplace. “Thank you.”
“I like holly.”
“It certainly brightens everything up,” Henrietta agreed.
“If one can avoid the prickly parts.” Miss Holly winked and went on her way, leaving Henrietta smiling.
Now she needed someone to bring up the two large brass pots for either side of the fireplace. She went to find one of the footmen and instead found Benjamin.
“Were you looking for me?” he asked.
“Not at all.” She gave him a polite but distant smile. “You’ve already warned me to stay away from you once today.”
He sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “I should apologize. I was worried that you—” He stopped speaking as one of the maids rushed past him. “Can we go somewhere and finish this conversation in private?”
“We can’t just walk away and leave everything to the other servants,” Henrietta objected.
“Neither of us works here. How can they miss us?” Benjamin countered impatiently. “There is something I need to tell you.”
There was the sound of raised voices at the far end of the hall, and Henrietta looked past Benjamin to see a man striding purposefully toward them. He stopped when he reached Benjamin and bowed low.
“Lord Saxelby. I am finally here. I apologize for the delay.”
Henrietta’s breath stuttered in her chest, and she dug her fingernails into the wicker handle of her basket. She turned to Benjamin, who was not looking pleased, and raised her chin.
“I have to assume that this is your valet, Lord Saxelby.”
“Yes.” Benjamin swallowed hard. “I—”
“Indeed, ma’am.” The stranger nodded to her. “Robert Fletcher at your service.”
Henrietta found a smile somewhere. “You are most welcome at Castle Keyvnor.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Robert.” Benjamin’s gaze met Henrietta’s. “If you would give me a moment, ma’am, I’d like to explain…”
“Perhaps another time.” Henrietta gathered herself and curtsied. “I have to go and help Mrs. Bray.” She paused. “Perhaps Lord Saxelby can show you up to your room, Robert? He certainly knows the way.”
Benjamin watched Henrietta march away from him and turned to Robert. “Go down to the kitchen. I ‘ll meet you there in a minute.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Benjamin set off after Henrietta, vaguely aware of Mr. Drake shouting his name, and unwilling to stop to explain anything at this point. She wasn’t heading downstairs, but out toward the castle gardens and the entrance to the maze. He caught up with her and called her name.
“Stop. Please. Let me explain.”
She stopped walking, but she didn’t turn around. He advanced slowly toward her, aware that he was shaking.
“I never intended for this to happen.”
She swung around, her blue eyes glinting with tears. He felt it like a punch in the gut and took an impulsive step forward, hand outstretched.
“Please don’t cry.”
She raised her chin. “I’m not crying. What do you want, my lord?”
“I tried to tell you several times that I wasn’t what or whom you thought I was,” Benjamin said.
“That’s your defense?” She raised an eyebrow. “That I was too stupid to piece things together?”
“No, of course not! The fault is entirely mine.” He hesitated. “That first night when you mistook me for my own valet and offered me a place to sleep, I was too damn tired and grateful to care about where I was or who you thought I was.”
“And the day after that when you kissed me?”
His hand dropped to his side. “I wanted to kiss you. I still want—”
She cut him off. “For what purpose, sir? Are you on the lookout for a mistress, like the Earl of Hayward? Perhaps you should talk to each other and work out who can offer me the most advantageous financial liaison.”
“As if you would condescend to become any man’s mistress,” Benjamin said. “That’s not what I want, anyway. It’s not about money.”
“Then you simply want me to fall into your bed and be grateful for your fleeting attention?”
“Devil take it, Henrietta. Stop putting words into my mouth!” He was shouting now, and he never shouted. “Wanting you, needing you, is difficult enough without you insisting on devaluing yourself.”
“Difficult for you?” She smiled. “I don’t like being deceived, Lord Saxelby. My first husband lied about everything because he thought that by marrying me he would gain a fortune. As soon as he realized his mistake, he abandoned me. I was eighteen and alone in a country riven with war. I barely managed to survive.” She swallowed hard. “I hate liars with a passion.”
“So because your first husband was a cowardly fool, all men are the same?” Benjamin demanded.
“Except for my father, yes.”
“The father who took you gambling, dressed you as a boy, and made you endure living in that war zone?”
“Do not criticize my father.” Her voice was fierce and low. “At least he never pretended to be his own servant. Why did you do it? Was it some foolish wager?”
“I don’t gamble.” He set his jaw, aware that his position was indefensible, but determined to battle through anyway. “I…enjoyed your company. I liked the fact that you seemed to like me, rather than my title or position.”
She studied him for a very long time. “I do like you. I mean, I did—”
“Until you discovered I was a peer.”
“No, until I realized you were pretending to be something you are not.” She sighed. “I do care about honesty. I don’t care about your title, Benjamin.”
“But that’s who I am. That is all I am.”
“Whoever told you that?” Henrietta asked.
<
br /> He straightened his spine. “No one needed to tell me my duty to my family. As the eldest son of an earl, my path was set from the day I was born.”
“That is terribly sad.”
For the first time in his life he found himself agreeing with the unthinkable. “Yes, it is rather pitiful, isn’t it?”
“You could be far more than that.”
“Does that mean I am forgivable?” He held his breath.
“Of course you are forgivable,” Henrietta said.
“Then you accept my apology?”
“Yes.”
He reached for her hand, and she didn’t pull away as he kissed her fingers.
“Thank you.”
She gently disengaged herself from his grasp and curtsied, her smile so sweet it hurt to look at her. He had a terrible sensation that his world was about to end.
“Goodbye, Benjamin. It was a pleasure knowing you.”
He grabbed hold of her wrist. “Don’t say that. Don’t—”
“You need to go and make yourself known to your hosts,” she said firmly but kindly. “I will make sure that Robert is well taken care of in the kitchens. I look forward to seeing you in your wedding finery.”
She was leaving him, and he didn’t know how to stop her, didn’t have the vocabulary or experience necessary to counteract her calm logic.
“I don’t want it to end like this.”
“What to end?” she countered. “We shared a kiss.”
He glared at her. “It was far more than that to me.”
She looked away from him, tears glinting in her eyes. “This place—this moment we shared—isn’t real. You know that. You remarked upon the absurdity of it yourself. When you leave here, you will wonder what on earth you were thinking about.”
“When I leave here, I’ll go back to being the stuffy eldest son of an earl,” Benjamin said bitterly. “And what about you?”
“I’ll take up my new position as a governess in Hertfordshire.”
He stepped so close she had to raise her chin to look at him. “And that’s enough for you?”
“At least I’ll be safe,” she retorted, her cheeks flushing at his accusative tone.
“Safe.” He shook his head. “That’s all you require? You’ll be bored in five minutes!”
“Which has nothing to do with you!”
“You’re right. It doesn’t, because you are too cowardly to even contemplate a future with me in it!”
Her hands went to her hips. “How dare you sit in judgment on me when you pretended to be your own valet!”
“Oh, we’re back to that are we?” he jeered. “I thought you’d forgiven me.”
“You are impossible!” She shoved him hard in the chest. “Go away, you horrible, infuriating man.”
He took hold of her by the shoulders and crushed her mouth against his until she was kissing him, her nails digging into the nape of his neck.
When he finally drew back, he was panting. “Tell me that means nothing to you. Tell me you won’t even give me a chance.”
She pressed her trembling fingers against his mouth. “Goodbye, Benjamin.”
He let her untangle herself from his arms and walk away before falling to his knees in despair. What in God’s name had gotten into him? He was never loud or impatient, and he always kept his temper. What had Castle Keyvnor unleashed in him, and how would he turn back into the man he needed to be? Did he even want to be that shell of a man anymore?
“What the devil are you doing down there, coz?”
Benjamin’s defeated gaze fixed on the highly polished top boots of his cousin Michael, and he wearily got to his feet.
“Nothing important. Just mourning the loss of all my future hopes and dreams.”
Michael’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you drunk, Saxelby?”
“No.” Benjamin gave Michael a savage smile. “But I fear my heart might be broken in two.”
Chapter 4
Henrietta snatched a drink of ale from the jug on the kitchen table and considered the tasks she still had to accomplish. The weddings had gone off beautifully in the Great Hall, and now the guests were gathering for the Yule Ball. She hadn’t stopped working long enough to think about Benjamin and his deception, and yet it sat in her stomach like an indigestible sour plum.
She pictured his expression as he’d argued with her, sometimes angry, sometimes so passionate and vulnerable that she’d wanted to throw caution to the winds and just agree to anything he suggested. But he was the son and heir of an earl. He had no place in his life for her, and she… She was to become a respectable governess with a stable home—something she’d dreamed about since she was a little girl.
Oblivious to the noise and clatter as Cook barked orders and prepared a late supper for the ball, Henrietta clasped the mug of ale to her bosom. She’d watched Benjamin at the wedding, looking quite unlike himself in a dark coat and gleaming white shirt and cravat. He hadn’t looked passionate at all, just as miserable as she currently felt. He’d stood between a younger man who slightly resembled him and a married couple, his face stony.
She remembered him in the dovecote laughing down at her, his auburn hair mussed and pigeon feathers stuck in his ears. Would he ever look like that again? She marveled at her own conceit. Of course he would. He’d find a woman of his own class, marry her, and be happy forever after. The fact that the mere thought of him looking at another woman made her fingers curl into claws was neither helpful, nor relevant.
One of them had to be sensible. She would not allow herself to acknowledge that she had come to care for him so quickly and so deeply. It was folly. She’d never be anyone’s dupe again.
“Henrietta!” She jumped as Mrs. Bray approached her, looking rather frazzled. “Go upstairs and make sure that everything is ready in the ladies’ retiring room. Your main duty tonight will be to assist the ladies.”
“Yes, Mrs. Bray.”
She was more than happy to take on a job that would not only keep her busy, but also prevent any of the servants, particularly Mr. Drake, from asking her how Benjamin the valet had suddenly become his own employer. Not that anyone had apparently noticed on either side of the divide. It was quite startling how unobservant they all were.
As she reached the main level of the castle, the musicians struck an opening chord, and she smiled, imagining the couples dancing to the intricate music. She’d never been to a ball and suspected that now she never would. Governesses weren’t invited to such things.
She paused, her hand on the door latch. Benjamin was right. She would be bored.
But he hadn’t experienced life as she had—living hand to mouth when her father ran out of funds, being chased by his creditors, being used to beg for more time to pay because her father joked that she would melt the hardest of hearts. She wanted to be safe. What was wrong with that?
For the next hour, she was kept busy helping various ladies pin up their hair and mend their hems. Some of the locals remembered her from when she was a child and were pleased to see her again. They were all very grateful for her efforts and for those of the rest of the staff at Keyvnor. When the musicians took a well-deserved break, she took them their supper, and then stepped outside to view the lights and escape the heated, over-perfumed atmosphere.
Her breath condensed in the cold, and she wished she’d brought her shawl out with her. She glanced down at her sensible black gown and wished it was made of silk, or chiffon and lace, and fit for a ball...
“All alone, my dear?”
She turned to see the Earl of Hayward leering at her from the doorway. He was smoking a cigarillo and had a glass of brandy in his hand. His breath smelled as if he’d had enough brandy for the entire wedding party.
“Actually, I’m just about to go back inside.” Henrietta smiled politely. “It is rather cold out here.”
“There’s no need to rush off, little pigeon.” His gaze traveled over her in a way that put her in mind of a farmer at a cattle market. “I wanted t
o speak to you about a little proposition of mine.”
“I can’t think of anything you want that could concern me, sir.”
“A financial proposition. I’m in need of a mistress.”
Oh God, she was tired of this, of him, and of the whole upper class and their overwhelming arrogance.
“Then I wish you well in finding one. Good night, sir.” She attempted to push past him, but he grabbed her wrist in a painful grip.
“Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you, girl.”
“Let go of me,” she snarled. “Or I will not be responsible for what I do to you.”
“Yes, let her go.” Henrietta froze as Benjamin spoke from behind her. “Or I’ll help her mete out whatever punishment for your presumption she deems necessary.”
The earl took a step back and collided with the doorframe. “Saxelby. I didn’t see you there. No need to fret, old boy. This woman and I are friends, aren’t we dear?”
“No, we are not.” Henrietta jerked her wrist free. “You are a disgusting old rake.”
“Do you really wish to cause another scene, Hayward?” Benjamin drawled. “I hear you’ve already upset one lady. One would hate to have to ask the Earl of Banfield to eject you from the castle in disgrace.”
Hayward gave Benjamin a curt bow and ignored Henrietta. “As you wish, my lord.”
“And season’s greetings to you, too,” Benjamin called after him as the earl scuttled away.
He turned to Henrietta, his brow creased. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, you arrived just in time.” She tried to smile and failed miserably.
He came immediately to her side and took her hand. “You are shaking. Do you want me to plant him a facer or call him out?”
“And ruin the festivities? My grandmother would disown me.” She shuddered. “No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, though.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “As you wish.”
She stared at his perfectly tied cravat, unwilling to risk looking up because she was simply too vulnerable to force herself to walk away from him right now.
“Will you dance with me?”
