She headed toward the stables that joined onto the coach-house, carefully tucked to one side of the manor and slightly out of view so that the functional building did not ruin the aesthetics of the house.
The stable-hands had not yet risen or were perhaps fetching feed, and for that she was grateful. Taking food to Harry was no more scandalous than taking food to the church for the poor and sick but it would be seen and talked of—and if anyone was good at gossip it was servants. Any favoritism toward Harry could be seen as something else.
Lilith’s stomach did a little dance as she neared the entrance. Was it something else?
She ducked into the dimness of the stables and made her way down to the end where Redrum had been kept separate from the other horses. Her lips curved into a smile at the sight of the horse and her foal, and then Harry, his back propped up against the wall, his head dropping to one side. In sleep, the creases around his eyes relaxed and the furrows in his forehead that so often seemed to exist were gone. She rather liked the creases and furrows, though. She’d wanted to put a finger to them and trace them and ask him what caused each one.
His lips were slightly parted and heavy breaths escaped him. Wrapped in only a coat, she wondered how he could survive such discomfort and still sleep through it, but then, this was a man who had probably worked through harder and more uncomfortable things in his life.
A lock of chestnut hair dropped over his forehead. Her fingers twitched with the need to sweep it back from his face. His hair was too long really, brushing his collar, but she rather liked the wild, untamed look to it.
She pressed out a breath. She rather liked everything about Harry.
Stepping closer, she placed the basket of food on a worn table pressed against the wall and crouched to put a hand to Harry’s shoulder. He came awake in a trice, his eyelids snapping open. He scowled, and she saw his gaze come into focus.
“Lil?”
Her heart stretched at the sound of her nickname on his lips. She much preferred it to ‘my lady’ or ‘Lady Lilith’—which had always sounded ridiculous to her. Some names did not fit with Lady and hers was one of them.
“Good morning.”
He pushed a hand through his hair and yawned before trying to get to his feet. “Forgive me.”
She shook her head and put a hand to his arm. “Stay. You have had a long night.”
He peered at her hand until she removed it then looked at her. “What are you doing here?” He covered another yawn. “Damn. Maisie. Is she well?” He tried to get up again, but she prevented him.
“She is fine. She had me awake nice and early but slept beautifully. She is eating with Mrs. George and the servants.”
His body relaxed. “Good. I hope she did not disturb you.”
“She was no trouble at all. She’s a wonderful little girl and a credit to you.”
He smiled at this. “She’s a mischief.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a mischief. Far better than being a boring, uninquisitive thing.” She stood and brought over the small basket of food. “I thought you might be hungry.” She eased herself onto the bench next to him and handed the basket over.
He blinked at the offering and took it. “That was thoughtful of you, my lady.”
She gave him a look, but he ignored it. Flipping open the lid of the basket, he fished out a chunk of fine bread and broke it in two. “Have you eaten?”
She shook her head and took the bread. He also pulled out the jam she had carefully stashed in the basket then added a dollop to his bread and hers. Harry took a large bite, a groan escaping him.
“Blackcurrant jam is Maisie’s favorite,” he said. “Mine too I think.”
“Keep the jar and you can give her some later. Mrs. George will not miss it.”
“Mrs. George would have my head if she knew I was taking home jam for Maisie, no matter how fond she is of her.”
Lilith waved a hand. “You can blame me.”
Harry shook his head. “That’s not how it works, my lady.”
She did not argue with him. There were different standards applied to her than there was him. She didn’t much like it but what could she say?
They ate in silence for several moments and, though companionable, Lilith wanted conversation. She was no stranger to talking with Harry, but those moments had been limited—and usually in front of other people. There was only so much one could say when being watched.
“Maisie is quite clever for her age, is she not?”
Harry shrugged. “All parents like to think their child is the cleverest.”
“She is articulate and curious. I think you are right to be biased.” Lilith grinned. “And a constant optimist. She always hoped for a happy ending, even in the Greek tragedies.”
“She kept you busy by the sounds of it.” He brushed the crumbs from his lap. “I hope she stays like that, though. Life can make it hard for a child to remain optimistic.”
“With a father like you, she will do fine, I am sure.”
“She doesn’t remember her mother’s passing and that helps. She’s never known any different.”
“What of you?” she asked softly.
He frowned and turned to look directly at her. “What of me?”
“Does her passing still affect you?” Lilith looked at her hands.
If she were in Society, she’d be scolded for being too bold but there was so much she wanted to know of him. Yes, she knew the basic facts—Harry had moved down south to be near his sister so she could look after Maisie after the death of his wife—but those were facts and not interesting to her. She wanted to know about emotions. About his emotions specifically.
“It has been a long time. It sometimes feels like that was another life. It’s frightening how quickly life can move on.” A soft smile creased the corners of his lips. “She was an excellent woman. I only hope I’m doing right by Maisie.”
“You are the hardest working man I know, and Maisie would not be so wonderful if you were not an excellent father. Believe me, I know what terrible fathers are, and you are not one of them.”
“I’d heard the late marquis was no wonderful man.”
Lilith shook her head. “He was a drunk and a gambler. Amongst other things. My mother tried to keep me isolated from it all, particularly when he was caught in many scandalous situations, but one cannot help but get wind of some of it. I hardly knew the man, but he was certainly no model father.”
“You had Lord Thornefield, though.”
“Yes.” Her smile expanded. Her brother had escorted her almost everywhere throughout her younger years and with an age gap of over fifteen years, he had been more of a father figure than a brother at times. “Thorney has always been wonderful to me. I am very lucky there. It’s so nice to see him happy now. Catherine has been excellent for him.”
“She is quite the lady,” he agreed. “And what about you? Are you happy now?”
“You mean am I still upset about the newspapers?”
He nodded.
In truth, she had forgotten all about it. Her preoccupation had been with…well… with Harry. It was foolish of course but she could not help it. Since that afternoon in the hayloft, she had thought of little else.
“The Duchess of Westholm is hosting a ball soon. She assures me that I will have a chance to rectify the disaster.”
“I heard one was being arranged. It is said the Prince Regent is visiting.”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Well, then, it shall be an excellent chance for you to make a second impression. No doubt there will be many men vying for a dance with you.” The words were slightly dull and empty sounding. He stood quickly and wiped his hands down his trousers. “I had better get to work, my lady. I’ll come and fetch Maisie from the kitchen shortly if you would like to leave her there.”
Lilith stood too and tried not to frown at the sudden change in atmosphere. How had they gone from talking of the intimate details of their life to her being my lady again?
“She is no trouble at all, I promise. She can—”
Harry held up a hand. “I think she had better stay in the kitchen. It’s better that way. Don’t want her getting the wrong ideas.”
The words were weighted with meaning but was she misunderstanding him? She eyed him while he looked away from her. Gone were the smiles and back in place were the furrowed brow and creases of concern.
“I—” She paused, unsure how to even express the uncertainty building in her chest. Instead of demanding answers, she brushed past him to grab the basket. As she did, he took her arm, forcing her to stop and face him.
Mere inches separated them. Her gaze landed on his chest where his shirt opened and revealed hard planes of muscle covered in a light scattering of hair. She dragged her gaze up to meet his. Soulful green eyes searched hers. His fingers were warm on her arm, feeling as though they would leave impressions on her skin. She parted her lips to draw in air, but the room seemed to shrink, and the air grew thick and soupy.
A nudge from behind her pushed her farther into his arms. She only vaguely realized it was Redrum nudging her with her nose but any amusement over the horse’s actions vanished when Harry put his free hand to her other arm. Lilith gulped.
“Lil,” he said, the word low and husky, sending shivers up and down her arms. “I—” He cut himself off. Whatever he intended to say vanished into the air. Her heart pounded so hard that is was all she could hear anyway. Her lips tingled with need. Kiss me, she begged silently. You want to, I know you do. Kiss me.
He leaned in, dwarfing her with his size. She felt petite and desperate. Why would he not just kiss her? His gaze searched hers and he dropped his head. Lilith closed her eyes and tilted her chin. She gave herself up to him. Surely he would take his kiss now?
A clatter from outside had her snapping her eyelids open in a trice. Harry darted away, dropping his hands from her arms and putting space between them quicker than she could draw in a breath.
“Harry, where the bloody hell…” The head groomsman entered, and his words trailed off when he spotted Lilith. “Forgive me, my lady. I didn’t know you were here.” The man lifted a gray, bushy eyebrow at Harry.
She swung a glance at Harry and laced her hands together in front of her. “I had heard there was a new addition. I wanted to see the foal.”
“Of course, my lady. Feel free to visit whenever you wish.” The groomsman pulled a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and dabbed his forehead. “A fine addition. I was just speaking with Lord Thornefield about his plans for her.”
Lilith smiled. “No doubt he is pleased. I have not even had a chance to speak with him about it yet.”
“How clever of you to find out before your brother, my lady. You must have spies in the stables.” He sent a pointed look Harry’s way. “You had better be off now. We have much dirty work to do and Lord Thornefield would not be impressed if we dirtied you, my lady.”
She understood the meaning in his words well enough and bid Harry and Mr. Johnson a hasty farewell, as much as it killed her to leave him. Mr. Johnson had been around long enough to know that young ladies should not be alone with stable-hands. Not that she had anything to fear—it was different if she was found with an eligible gentleman—but Harry had everything to lose and it appeared as though Johnson had his suspicions.
She should stay away from Harry. The last thing she would want to do is harm his living, especially when she knew her brother was considering him to replace Mr. Johnson when he retired. That would mean a fine cottage on the estate and excellent pay—perfect for providing Maisie with everything she needed.
Biting down on her lip, she headed back to the house and entered through the front door, ignoring the impulse to go to the kitchen and see Maisie. The problem was, she really did not want to stay away from either of them.
Chapter Six
Harry took full pleasure in exercising the horses, despite slight drizzle that soaked through his light coat and soaked the front of his shirt. It was the first time he’d done it in two days, but the other stable-hands had to muck out the stables which left no one free to do it but him. He’d never shy away from dirty work but riding the horses always brought him the most pleasure.
The gelding beneath him kept a fine pace while he led two others, ensuring they got their daily exercise. The marquis had no plans to use the coach anytime soon which meant they had several horses who would not be used for the foreseeable future. He sucked in lungfuls of cool air and lead the horses across the pasture toward the small circular wood that they would loop around before coming back.
The rhythm of the animal beneath him combined with the land sprawling out in front of him was usually enough to put him right, no matter how grizzly his mood was. Not today, though. By the time he had returned to the stables, he felt no better. He had not seen Lilith for two days and yet he could not stop thinking of her—and of their near kiss.
There was no denying it. That was what it had been. And for some senseless reason, she had wanted it as much as he.
He brought the horses back, putting two out into the fenced off field before taking the gelding to the washing-down house. The Easton estate was one of the best equipped for horses. Certainly in the north, there had been no washing down houses or stables more comfortable than his own modest cottage. The marquis felt as passionate about horses as Harry did—just another reason for Harry to want to be master of all this.
Harry began rubbing down the horse vigorously, pausing when Lord Thornefield came by with his wife. And Lilith. It took all his willpower not to look at her. She kept her eyes cast down or on the horse. Clearly, she understood how inappropriate he had been.
He scowled. Didn’t mean he had to like the way she avoided him, though.
“Harry,” Lord Thornfield greeted. “We just came by to look at the foal. Is this an inconvenient time?”
“Not at all.” Harry wiped his hands on the cloth hanging from his belt. “She’s in the end stable, away from the rest of the horses. I’ll join you in a moment.”
Harry finished rubbing down the horse and looped her reins around one of the iron rings on the side of the stables. “I’ll be back,” he promised her when she gave him a look that told him she was annoyed indeed for being kept waiting.
“Oh, isn’t she beautiful?” cooed Lady Thornefield, who was peering over at the foal.
Lord Thornefield nodded. “She looks to be in excellent health.”
“She’ll be a fine addition,” confirmed Harry. Lilith stepped back as he came toward them. “Be—” he started, but too late.
She knocked into the hay fork that had been left against the wall. It slid down the wall and struck the stable door that then swung shut. A whinny of protest came from one of the horses as the impact made the wood stall judder. The rather feisty male who had been kept secluded for a reason butted his rear against his door which startled the horse next to him who had no need to be shut away and was only tethered to the wall. He kicked the bucket of water nearby and soapy suds spilled over the floor. They ran along the cobbles until they reached the marquis’s feet. He peered at them with a raised brow.
“Oh dear.” Lilith clapped a hand to her mouth. “I am sorry.”
Harry shrugged. “No harm done. We needed to clean the floor anyway.”
Lilith’s expression relaxed. “Oh good. It would have been terrible if—”
He was not entirely sure how it had happened. One minute she was standing upright then the next, her foot hit the wet floor and she toppled forward. On instinct, he reached out for her and she landed hard against him, her forehead striking his mouth on the way down. The tang of blood filled his mouth.
She straightened quickly and eyed him. “Oh no.”
Harry released her from his hold with haste and touched a finger to his lip with a wince.
“Oh no, oh no.” She hastily fished out a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to him. “I am terribly sorry.”
He sho
ok his head and held up a hand. “I’ve had worse, my lady.”
“Perhaps you and Catherine should continue your walk now that you have seen the foal, Lil. That way you will not do any more damage,” her brother suggested.
Lilith glanced at the floor. “Yes, you are probably right.”
“Your handkerchief, my lady?” Harry tried the hand back the fine lace but she shook her head.
“Keep it, it is the least I can do.”
He shrugged. “As you will, my lady, but I can see there being some questions when I pull this out of my pocket.” He gave a quick grin.
Lilith giggled, the smile reaching her eyes. Hopefully any embarrassment would be quickly forgotten. He winked at her as she left and caught her blush when she stepped out of the stable. He turned to look at the mess she had left and chuckled to himself.
“I hope my sister has not made too much work for you. You know how she is.” Lord Thornefield propped his hands on his hips and surveyed the slight chaos she had left.
“I know, my lord. No harm done.”
“I wanted to speak with you about Johnson’s retirement.”
Harry tried to keep his face neutral. “Yes, my lord?”
“He shall be looking to leave within the next month or so. We’ll provide him with a nice cottage not far from the estate but he will be giving up the cottage that comes with the job of head groom.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The marquis eyed him for a moment. “You are one of the hardest working men here. Be assured it has not gone unnoticed.”
“I can do more than work hard, my lord. That is, I have knowledge of horses that I would like to put to good use if given the chance.”
Lord Thornefield nodded. “Keep it up, and you shall get the chance.” He peered around the stables. “Well, I will not delay you any longer. I had better catch up with my wife and sister before they cause any more trouble.”
Harry waited until the marquis was long gone before releasing a grin and punching the air. Lord Thornefield had as good as said the job was his. Now all he had to do was focus on the horses and not on the marquis’s sister. Easy, right?
Lilith and the Stable Hand Page 4
