by Rebecca King
She couldn’t quite ignore the invisible pull of attraction she felt toward him, in spite of the differences in them, but there was no reason why she had to let it affect her work. The new master of the household was, by far, the most handsome she had seen in her life. She should be able to just acknowledge her attraction to him on a feminine level and get on with her duties as any other good servant would.
With the matter settled in her mind, for now, she turned her attention to the second rather unexpected event of the day; Edwards’ appearance at the dinner table. Flopping onto her back, she stared blankly at the ceiling and contemplated the altercation she had witnessed earlier.
“Your place is here at the table with the rest of us,” Mrs Kempton reported briskly when Edwards had demanded dinner in her room.
The housekeeper’s tone made it clear that she expected no argument. Unfortunately, this was lost on Edwards, who glared at her in dispassionate disgust.
“Am I to take it that I am expected to dine here, with the below stairs servants?” Her contempt was portrayed in the glare she slid across everyone seated at the table.
“If you want to eat in this house you do,” Mrs Kempton snorted.
The atmosphere within the room thickened as tension began to build. Everyone continued to eat although with considerably more wariness than they had before Edwards’ appearance at the end of the table.
Determined to assert her authority, Edwards levelled a cold stare on the woman that could have frozen marble.
“I shall eat in my room. Send a tray immediately, and in future, all of my meals will be taken in my room.”
“There is an empty tray over there,” Mrs Kempton said with a nod toward the kitchen behind them. She then resumed her meal, making no attempt to help her, or carry the tray as ordered.
“I beg your pardon?” Edwards demanded dourly.
The housekeeper turned a glare on her. “You are a servant in this house; here to do the master’s bidding with the medication and the like. You don’t help bathe him, Rollo does. You don’t do anything in the room, Petal does. You are here to count the Laudanum bottles, and assist the master with the things that doctor in London told him to do, like getting him to sit up out of bed. That is why you are staying in the servant’s quarters with the rest of us. The master instructed it. You aren’t a guest here so there is no reason for you to warrant having the staff here carry trays to your room, or do anything for you. You eat with us, and that is the end of it.”
Her flat tone caused those around the table to look at each other. The only time Mrs Kempton used that particular tone was when she was angry. If the rose-tinted flush on her cheeks was any indication, she was coldly furious with Edwards. Nobody moved or said a word as they waited to see whether the nurse would have a full-blown tantrum.
After several moments of glaring at Mrs Kempton, who proceeded to eat her meal in stony silence, she huffed and stomped her foot. Spinning on her heel, she stormed out of the kitchen and slammed the door behind her.
“She is going to be trouble that one, I can feel it,” Rollo murmured.
“She isn’t going to be trouble,” Mrs Kempton corrected. “She is trouble.”
Rollo nodded. “She has delusions of grandeur, and it has no place in this house.”
“Try telling her that. I have no doubt there are to be more run-ins of that kind before she leaves.”
“I will forewarn the master,” Rollo replied. He threw Petal a warning look.
“You watch yourself, young lady. Do not start to ferry anything around for that woman unless the master tells you to. Remember that you are here as the master’s servant, not the nurse’s. I have no doubt she will try to use you to get her things delivered, but you are not to give that woman an inch.”
Petal looked doubtful. “I am just the upstairs maid.”
“If she gives you any trouble, Petal, you tell me,” Mrs Kempton ordered. “I shall have a word with the master myself.”
That said, everyone turned their attention back to their meals, but the conversation was muted. Half an hour later, with the tension failing to lift, everyone left the table and returned to their duties. It was evident to everybody that Edwards had no intention of joining them, but Petal had to ask herself why the woman needed to be in the house at all. With everybody having their assigned duties, having a nurse just seemed unnecessary.
Shaking her head at the strangeness of the aristocracy, Petal turned over in bed and sighed deeply when Aggie rolled over the other way taking the covers with her. Tugging them back, Petal rolled her eyes and closed them with a yawn. While she tried hard not to ponder on it, she had to wonder what tomorrow would bring.
The following morning, she was still yawning when she opened the door to Sir Aidan’s bedroom. Sleep had been a long time coming last night. When it had arrived it had been fitful to the point that an hour ago she had surrendered and started her day early. Her exhaustion now made her rather wish she had remained in bed instead. It was still dark outside, but she had already worked her way through most of her upstairs chores by candlelight. Now that she had done the bulk of her work, she was exhausted and smothered another yawn as she crept quietly into the room to light the master’s fire.
As familiar as she was with the layout of the upper floor, she didn’t bother to light a candle as she tiptoed toward the fire with a bucket of wood in her hand.
“You are here early.”
The deep rumble coming unexpectedly from the bed made her squeak. She spun around so quickly that several pieces of wood flew out of the top of her bucket. Dropping to her knees, she quickly picked them up, aware that he was still waiting for her to answer. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she waited for him to chastise her for waking him up.
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” She stammered and mentally winced when she realised she shouldn’t have spoken to him. “I am sorry.”
“There is no reason to be sorry,” he replied smoothly, seemingly unperturbed at the intrusion.
She couldn’t see him, but his husky baritone of his voice coming from the shadows sent shivers down her spine, and it had nothing to do with fear or trepidation. Rather than break any more house rules, Petal turned her attention to lighting the fire and dropped to her knees before the hearth. She quickly lit the candle beside her knees and brushed up the wood dust, all the while trying desperately to ignore the fact that she could feel him watching her.
“Are you always up and about this early?” Aidan asked with a frown.
He knew from the last chimes of the clock that it was barely half past four. Surely Rollo didn’t have the staff up and about before dawn?
“No, sir,” Petal replied. She was unable to explain for fear of breaking the strict house rules again.
“Why are you here then?”
“To do the fire, sir.”
Aidan sighed and wondered if she had limited intelligence.
“Yes, I know that,” he snapped. “But surely your duties don’t start until six. It is early yet, so why are you working in the middle of the night?”
Petal frowned. She could hardly tell him that she hadn’t been able to sleep because she had been thinking about him, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him either.
“I couldn’t get back to sleep, sir. Because you haven’t been well, I thought I should light the fire in case you were cold, sir,” she replied quietly, aware of the crackle and pop of the flames beside her.
“But I heard you sweeping the hallway outside,” Aidan frowned.
Something was going on, he just knew it.
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she replied.
“Don’t keep apologising,” he snapped churlishly.
“I am -”
“Yes, sorry, I know,” he growled with a shake of his head.
He almost groaned aloud as she stood and turned to face him. Bathed in the gentle glow of the fire, she looked seductive. He couldn’t remember a maid’s attire
being that alluring before, even with the mob cap that barely contained her wheat coloured hair.
“So, you couldn’t sleep and decided to get your work done early.” He knew from the way she didn’t answer that he was right. “What do you plan to do then?”
“I will help the others, sir,” she dutifully replied, wondering if he was looking for a reason to sack her.
Aidan studied the way the firelight turned her hair different shades of copper, gold, and silver, and bathed the rest of her in a halo of light that emphasised each dip and curve of her body that the uniform couldn’t hide.
“Do you like it here?” Aidan asked then mentally winced. He had no idea why he was talking to her, but felt compelled to keep her in the room with him. Then he realised what he had just asked and cursed his own stupidity.
Of course, she will tell you she likes it here whether she really does or not. She is not going to tell you she hates it. You are her employer and would have her out in her ear in a thrice, you fool, he thought.
“Would you like me to get you something, sir?” Petal asked instead of answering him.
She wracked her brains to think of something else to say, but words failed her. She was stunned that he was deigning to converse with her at all, and could only pray that Rollo wouldn’t walk in and find them talking.
Aidan studied her. He wanted her to stay. There was just him and her awake in the entire house; who would know? Being the only two people awake encompassed them in an intimate atmosphere that seemed to elicit the exchange of confidences. It was the first time he felt as though he wanted to reveal his deepest, darkest secrets to another living soul; especially a woman. It was astounding. It was shocking but, moreover, he was intrigued by the notion. He had to wonder whether it was because she was a servant. He knew she would never be in a position to do anything about any information he gave her, other than gossip to a handful of others who wouldn’t be able to do anything with their news.
“Can you light another candle?” Aidan pushed himself upright on the bed and watched her place a lit candle on the table beside the bed.
“Would you like your book?” she asked, aware that he was still watching her every move.
It was on the tip of her tongue to apologise to him again, but he had already told her to stop doing that. It felt wrong to be talking to him at all, but she could hardly ask him to stop. With little else to do she had to just carry on as normal and hope he didn’t mention it to anyone.
“I don’t bite, you know,” he grumbled, disturbed by the way she looked as though she would run away at the slightest provocation.
Petal fought a smile at the grumpiness on his face. It was the last emotion she would have considered him capable of. To see it so evidently made him somewhat more human, and less of a forbidding employer to be fearful of. With an inward sigh, she slowly began to relax and feel more at ease being in his company.
Maybe Aggy and Mrs Kempton were right, and he was just curious about you in the hallway on the day of his arrival, she mused thoughtfully.
Aware that he hadn’t sent her away, but hadn’t asked her to do anything else, Petal stood hesitantly beside the bed. It is hard to keep her eyes averted from the bare expanse of very masculine chest he had unwittingly displayed when he sat up. He seemed completely oblivious to how much it disturbed her which was a blessing in disguise. Mainly because it reminded her that he didn’t see her as someone of the opposite sex; she was an asexual servant.
That is fine by me, she mused, wishing he would cover up.
Was this why Edwards was so proprietary with him? Did she have a yen for him too? Or was she protecting him from his own ignorance and preying females?
Wait! What? Who said I have a yen for him? I don’t have a yen for him?
Inwardly she was appalled.
“What are you scowling at?” Aidan asked, wondering if he had done something to offend her.
Petal stared at him blankly and made her expression as bland as she could make it. “Scowling, sir?”
“Yes, you were scowling just now? Why?”
“I wasn’t aware that I was scowling, sir,” she lied smoothly.
“Well you were,” he replied. “Don’t.”
He hated to see her scowl and was suddenly put out by it.
“God, what the hell am I doing?” He breathed as he stared blankly at the fireplace.
“Pardon, sir?” Petal asked wondering if he was talking to himself or her.
Aidan stared at her for a moment. “Just stop all of this ‘sir’ nonsense. I hate formality with a vengeance. Stop calling me Sir.”
“Yes, sir,” Petal replied, then immediately winced. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologising.”
“If that is all, I had better be getting on with my chores,” she replied, paying careful attention not to call him sir, or apologise again.
Aidan scowled at her. “What other chores do you have this early in the morning?”
Petal hesitated. If she was honest, lighting the fire in this room was the last of her jobs for now. The entire house had been cleaned thoroughly only last week, and her chores upstairs were completed on a daily basis. She had swept the upper hall, polished the surfaces, and lit the fires that were hers to light. There was nothing else for her to do until breakfast was served. Then she would begin the daily duty of replenishing the water jugs and making the beds. She wracked her mind to come up with something but couldn’t think of anything.
“I can bring you some tea if you like?”
“No, I don’t like,” he grumbled. “I want to know why you are doing your chores this early.”
Petal sighed. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Yes, yes, we have been through all of that,” he snapped impatiently, wondering what a man had to do to get a conversation with someone.
When she still didn’t give him an answer, he peered at her suspiciously. “What are you hiding?”
“Me?” She tried to look innocent but suspected she failed splendidly.
“I think you had better be honest with me and tell me what is going on around here.”
Petal studied him, desperately trying to ignore the wild thrill of feminine delight that swirled through her. He was incredibly handsome, even more so now that he was upright. The dark scowl on his face only made him look like a petulant child and endeared him to her even more. Fighting to quell her grin, she kept her face expressionless like she had seen Rollo do on many occasions.
“Nothing is going on, sir,” she replied crisply. “I am just going about my work. If you have a problem, maybe you should speak to Rollo.”
Before he could say anything else, she bobbed a curtsey and hurried out of the room.
Aidan glared at the closed door in disgust. He had never been so efficiently or effectively stonewalled in his entire life. Now he knew for definite that she was avoiding him. It irked him to think she didn’t want to be in his company. He had never had that from a woman before. Most women of his acquaintance were usually like the irascible Edwards.
Sighing deeply, he glared at the bell pull beside the bed but knew from the past, and extremely painful, experience that it was beyond him to take even one step in that direction. His legs hurt with just the slightest movement sometimes, and today was no exception. He couldn’t risk damaging his legs further.
With one last dark look at the door, he reluctantly slouched down beneath the covers. In spite of the early morning, sleep eluded him. Instead, his thoughts turned toward the rather intriguing maid who had just evaded his questions him as deftly as if she moved amongst the ton.
“Now that is a woman with secrets,” he murmured aloud, wondering why he was so interested in her.
He was still thinking about her when he fell asleep half an hour later.
CHAPTER FOUR
Petal was exhausted when she quietly let herself back into his room later that night. She now ached practically everywhere from the exertion of fetching and carrying heavy trays and
buckets all day. But that wasn’t what troubled her the most.
Every time she had entered the master’s bedchamber, he had watched her avidly, as though he was trying to figure out what secrets she kept. It disturbed her greatly. She had waited and waited for him to resume their conversation. For some reason, he had not. To her surprise, she was a little put-out that he hadn’t tried to talk to her again. Because she had never had this occur before she had no idea how to deal with the protracted silences. The only thing she could think to do was carry on as normal until he engaged her in conversation.
To say that it unnerved her was an understatement. As a naturally chatter person by nature, it was instinctive for her to want to chat to someone in her company; if only to pass the time of day. Unfortunately, her job dictated that she couldn’t, and so the sheer effort it took to ignore him and carry out her duties as if he wasn’t there was simply exhausting.
To add to her worries, each time she had worked in the master’s room, the rather pious stare of the irascible nurse had grown increasingly threatening. Edwards appeared to have taken up post beside the bed, and apparently disliked Petal even being in the bedchamber. She reminded Petal of a gargoyle waiting to strike those who ventured too close. As long as she didn’t attack Petal, then Petal had decided to treat her with a wary indifference as well.
Thankfully, she had just left the woman downstairs arguing with the housekeeper over whether she should do her own laundry or not. That was an argument Petal was more than willing to leave behind. She rather suspected the nurse would not win over the older woman, but had no prior knowledge of the pecking order within such vast houses so couldn’t form an opinion either way. It was down to the master to decide who should get their own way, and taking that to his bedside was certainly something for Rollo, not the upstairs maid.
