She picked up a handful of oats and let a pretty mare nibble from her palm. One of the palfrey’s along the opposite wall whinnied. He must be jealous. She stifled a laugh, and walked over to offer some love to the friendly horse in need of attention. She missed her horses at home. Although her father’s collection was not nearly so vast, it was tremendous, and she’d been allowed to ride many of the horses, although she did have her favorite. Desi. Riding Desi had been one of her favorite things to do during the day. It gave her peace of mind. How she would miss that dear little mare.
Gazing at the horses, she wondered if she’d ever ride again.
Lord Hardwyck’s collection of horses was amazing. He was definitely a collector. All of the horses’ stalls were in mint condition. It was obvious from the condition of the stables, the horses’ perfectly groomed coats, the saddles and tackle neatly hung on the walls, the horse master cared a great deal about his charges.
Walking to the tackle wall, her gaze caught a beautiful leather side saddle. Carvings were intricately done in the leather, with gold trim along the edges. It was the epitome of feminism. She ran her hands along the saddle, the smooth leather like a caress against her fingertips. Chloe longed to put it on one of the beautiful horses and go for a ride. She’d never had a saddle as stunning as this one.
“I see you found Harold.” The familiar voice of Lord Hardwyck intruded on her thoughts.
Chloe whipped around to face him. His height nearly reached the top of the doorway, as he leaned casually against it, his arms crossed over his chest, one ankle hooked over the other. She was again aware of how impressive his size was…and how utterly masculine. Her body of its own volition responded to the sight of him, gooseflesh sprinkled its way up her arms, and her breaths came quick and shallow. From the way his eyes bored into hers, she was sure he knew just how her body misbehaved. Embarrassment at her thoughts raced through her causing heat to rise in her chest and travel up her neck until it burned her cheeks. She curtsied in his direction, hoping to hide the effect he had on her.
“Yes, my lord. I uh…I was just admiring your collection of horses,” she said, still startled at his sudden appearance and what it had done to her.
“Thank you.” He turned from her. “Harold, would you see to it Miss Chloe gets some decent clothes?” When he looked back at her, disdain was etched in his features.
Her blush deepened, and all she could do was pray she’d evaporate from the heat of her own mortification. She knew her attire wasn’t pleasant to look at it, but did he have to act so disgusted?
“Yes, my lord. Come Chloe. Let’s get you out of that wretched garb,” Harold answered, walking toward her after dismissing the stable boy.
She stole one last look at Lord Hardwyck, and caught something in his gaze that was anything but scorn. His eyes held a light she hadn’t seen before, a hunger. He let his gaze linger, his brow arching in sensual appreciation. When she blushed through to her toes, he turned away, leaving the stable with Harold in his wake. She followed them out, completely perplexed. How could he look at her with such an obvious dislike one moment and then lust the next?
Alexander walked briskly toward the keep, his steward in his wake, and the subject of his thoughts not far behind.
He’d watched, unobtrusively, from the doorway of the stable as Chloe fingered the ornate side saddle he’d made for his future bride. He wanted to watch what she did while alone, unobserved. Would she make a slip? Reveal who she was? Her entire manner, elegant voice, and graceful movements, spoke volumes already. What more would she display to him? The look of longing in her eyes as she lovingly caressed the saddle revealed more than words. He could tell she liked the saddle, wanted to sit upon it, feel the wind against her skin as she raced along a field, a horses flanks beneath her. He was again assailed with vexation that she wouldn’t just admit to him her identity. He would be more than happy to grace her with the saddle, wouldn’t he? Not just the saddle…
Horses and riding were a great passion of his, and he’d hoped his new bride would enjoy them with him. Perhaps appreciate such a resplendent saddle. It was apparent from watching her that Chloe also held a great passion for the animals. He was sure of it when he watched the glint in her eyes, the way she whispered and nuzzled them. A fleeting thought of her whispering in his ear, nuzzling his neck as she straddled his cock on top of one of his horses, crossed his mind, and for a moment something stronger than desire seized his chest. If his suspicions were true, the saddle was hers, and he was glad she liked it.
He would have her ride with him in the morning. With whatever charade she was playing at she would probably come up with a reason not to, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Hell, he was lord here. He shouldn’t have to coax anyone to do his bidding.
Her ruse confused him. From speaking with her and observing her, it was obvious she was not who she claimed. Her mannerisms were of someone born to privilege and shown the finer things in life.
Alexander clenched and unclenched his fists, forcing himself to keep walking, not to turn around, reach for her, throw her over his shoulder and carry her straight up to his chamber.
He’d been unable to hide his aching look of yearning from her when she gazed at him, and had quickly rearranged his features to something fierce. He didn’t want her to know how she drew him to her, how the sight of her made him forget his duties. Already his men and other servants, no doubt, thought him odd for having this strange commoner come to live and work amongst them. And as his chatelaine of all things! Even now he’d left the training of his men only to watch her. There was no need for him to come and tell Harold about the clothes, for he’d already mentioned it to him earlier, as well as instructing the girl to ask.
Damn! He was losing his mind.
Why the hell was she trying to deceive him anyway? Did she think him that horrible? Maybe he’d let her keep it up a little longer, it might be fun to watch her squirm a little.
Alexander picked up his speed as he walked back to his men, his steps large and wide. He could feel her behind him, staring at him, her eyes watching his every move. She had been so careful until she reached the stables. Despite his annoyance at her charade, he longed to take her in his arms, smother her with his mouth, taste the honey lips that teased his thoughts, and claim what he wanted. His body churned with lust. Even in her terrible clothes, her dirty face and unkempt hair, he yearned for her, yet he knew not why. He gritted his teeth in frustration.
He was definitely going to have her go for a ride with him in the morning. He’d tell her they were going to look around Hardwyck village and the rest of the holding. He would get to spend more time with her, study her more, make her feel comfortable and just maybe give her a little taste of her own medicine. He needed to think of this like he would any other battle—only without weapons. This was a battle of minds. The only thing he needed to figure out was if his assault would be quick and deadly or slow and agonizing.
He imagined her on her knees begging forgiveness for running from him. But then the thought of her on her knees brought about other imaginings. Thoughts that clouded his vision, and made his body react in a way it shouldn’t when facing his knights. He shook his head, and headed for his men at a near run. He swore to himself he wasn’t running from her. No, he just needed a good fight to get these thoughts out of his head. Hell, she had only been at the keep a couple of hours and already he was losing control.
Chloe watched as Lord Hardwyck quickened his pace to get away from her. He must think she was so disgusting he couldn’t get away fast enough. She frowned, and couldn’t believe she was that overly horrid. Yes, it had been awhile since she’d had a real bath, but she’d washed some of the dinginess away early in the morning. However, putting herself in his shoes, she might do the same thing. She was sure she had when a particularly smelly servant entered the great hall at South Hearth.
Imaginations of Lord Hardwyck dressed in peasant garb with a dirty face, while she stood regal in front of
him made her laugh out loud. Harold turned, giving her a puzzled look, and she hastily contained herself, pointing to the crowd, as if she’d seen something funny. Harold only shook his head at her. Chloe bowed her head, reminding herself once again she needed to have better command of her reactions. With the mistakes she’d made already today, there was no telling what would happen by the end of a week.
She’d be in the tower for sure if she kept this up. Lord Hardwyck was a mighty fierce man. The way he scowled at her constantly and the way he questioned her at every turn, made her palms sweat. He had his doubts about her, and she didn’t want to get on his bad side. She schooled a look of stone onto her face, and continued to follow Harold to the tailor’s cottage.
When they walked through the door, the working women looked up and the tailor himself hurried from his duties to see about Harold’s orders.
“Jack, this is the new chatelaine, Miss Chloe. She is in need of a decent gown as soon as possible.” He eyed her current state of dress, not having to tell the tailor why a new gown was imperative.
With Harold’s words, Jack scrutinized her as well, giving her the same odd look she’d been receiving since her arrival. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she averted her eyes, only to find another set of gawkers. Why didn’t her cheeks just retain the pinkish hue? She’d blushed more times this morning than she probably had her whole life.
The women openly gaped at her. One had the same wispy grey gold hair as Nicola. For a moment she thought it might have been her maid, until the woman turned, and she saw it was not. Chloe bit the inside of her cheek and forced the ready tears to dissipate. She offered warm smiles to the women hoping to soften their demeanors. The women smiled back and offered her words of welcome.
“Harold, sir, we have a gown already prepared that might suit her needs for the time being,” Jack said waving to one of the women.
“Thank you, please also take measurements. She will need at least three others to wear, as well as the usual undergarments, shoes and head-dress.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll make sure to give the shoemaker her measurements.” Jack snapped his fingers to his assistants, who turned Chloe about, taking measure of her arms, chest, waist, hips, legs and feet.
The women ran about gathering all the appropriate attire.
Chloe was happy at the way things were turning in her favor. They fairly fawned over her. She hoped their interactions with her would taper some of the stern looks and gaping glances she was getting about the village. Her fears from before about how she would fit in and be welcomed changed to happier thoughts. This would be easier for her now. She had worried they wouldn’t accept her, that they would shun her, now with a few words from Harold and her own kind offerings the atmosphere was less intimidating.
Once they had her measurements and she held the pre-made gown, undergarments, and even a new cloak, she followed Harold back to the keep.
“His lordship has made preparations for you to have your own chamber in the keep,” Harold told her.
She bit her lip, trying to gauge Harold’s reaction. Being as discreet as a steward should be, if he was in the least surprised, he didn’t show it.
“’Tis not often a servant gets their own quarters, however since you are being given such a high position within the keep, you will be allowed this luxury. Do not think however, that because you have been afforded your own chamber, you will not be expected to continue with your duties.”
Harold’s rebuke of behavior she had not yet exhibited, offended her. However, remembering her place as he saw her, she knew this must be said. For if she were a peasant, perhaps she would think she was being offered such a luxury, because naught was expected of her.
She knew it was more than a little odd she had her own chamber, but chose to ignore this minor detail. She was too ecstatic over the idea. Chloe tried hard to harbor her excitement from Harold as she followed him into the keep and through the great hall. Living within the keep would give her greater access to Lord Hardwyck. She’d be able to keep an eye on him, and she couldn’t help but think it would make the few tricks she had up her sleeve a little easier.
Many of the servants were busy preparing the room for the mid-day meal. Harold stopped in the middle of the hall and clapped his hands.
“Attention!” he said in a loud voice but not quite a shout, the severe look on his face did not waver. Did the man ever smile? “This is Miss Chloe. She is to be the chatelaine here at Hardwyck. All are to treat her with the respect and to follow any orders she may issue. Any who disobey her instructions will have to deal with me.” After his harsh words were spoken, the staff didn’t dare turn and whisper as she was sure they yearned to do.
Offering this set of staff the same kind smiles as she’d shown the tailor’s staff, she was a little stunned that they were not as willing to return her kindness. Some gave half hearted smiles, but other than that, she saw blank eyes staring back at her. Having lived in a chateau herself, she knew all this must be quite unseemly to the people within, and her heart went out to their confusion. She was only too glad Maude was not in attendance. Not wanting to turn away her newfound hope that life in Hardwyck could be pleasant, she kept her cheerful smile, and turned with Harold to go up the steep winding staircase in the main entry hall.
They arrived on the third floor of the keep, for the great hall was on the second.
“Your chamber is on this floor, along with Sir Edward, Lord Hardwyck’s captain of the guard, and his lady wife, Anne. The master’s chamber is on the next level up, and should his lordship ever marry and beget heirs, the floor above that would be the nursery.” He paused a moment as if contemplating what he would say. “Lady Anne, would be allowed to accompany such a mistress, as one of her ladies-in-waiting.”
Chloe nodded her understanding and tried to keep her face blank. She didn’t want to give away any indication that she more than understood the living situations in a noble home.
“This level has two additional chambers, both of which are for noble guests who are visiting. Lord Hardwyck’s main solar and study is on the floor above, attached to his chamber.” He continued down the long corridor. “Let us see if Lady Anne is free, and I shall introduce you her.”
That wouldn’t do. She could not be introduced to a lady looking as she did.
“I’d like to freshen up before meeting Lady Anne.”
Harold turned stern eyes on her. “You can attend to your needs after the introduction.”
His tone left little to argue with, and Chloe grit her teeth to hold in her response.
She followed in silence as Harold issued instructions for her. She was nervous about meeting Lady Anne. Would keeping her identity a secret from Lady Anne be more difficult than with Lord Hardwyck?
Harold knocked lightly on a chamber door. A soft call came from behind its wooden expanse. He opened the door slowly to reveal a lovely lady sitting by the fire. Her back was straight as an arrow as she sat in a grand chair. Her fingers nimbly worked on the beginnings of a tapestry from what Chloe could discern. A lady’s maid sat in the corner of the room also working on some sewing.
“Lady Anne, may I present Miss Chloe, the new chatelaine,” Harold said with a bow.
Chloe curtsied to Lady Anne. Now that she was in front of the elegant woman, she was even more aware and ashamed of her getup. “My lady,” she said, rising.
“How do you do, Miss Chloe? I welcome you to Hardwyck,” Lady Anne said with a slight Scottish burr in her voice. Her smile was genuine. Her kind eyes swept over Chloe’s appearance, but did not register disgust.
Lady Anne had a lovely shade of auburn hair that peeked below a pale yellow headdress adorned with pearls. She wore a gown of the same shade of yellow, which complemented her hair and ivory skin.
“Thank you, my lady, I am well,” Chloe said unsure if she should add anything else.
“Miss Chloe will be at your disposal should you be in need of anything and I am not about,” Harold said, indicating he wa
s not completely forsaking all his duties to Chloe.
“I should be glad for the company. Perhaps after the evening meal, you could help me with this tapestry?” She smiled and lifted the corner of her work for Chloe to see.
Excited for the offer of company and needlework, which she did enjoy, Chloe nodded. “Yes, my lady.” She would have to remember to ask Anne what part of Scotland she was from.
Anne inclined her head and looked back down at her work, dismissing them with her gesture. Harold quietly backed out of the room, and beckoned for Chloe to follow. He led her back down the corridor to a closed door at the end of the hall. He opened the chamber door and entered. Chloe took a deep breath and followed.
“This will be your chamber. I have ordered a bath to be brought for you. You may wait here, and once completed, I will see you in the great hall prior to the mid-day meal for further instructions.” At that he turned and left without another word.
Chloe dropped the packages of her new clothes onto the bed, taking in her surroundings. A tapestry on the wall showed a lady riding hard through a field atop a white horse. As if placed there as a reminder, her head snapped up. “Oh, no!”
She’d forgotten to ask about her horse. Hurrying out the door she easily caught sight of Harold. He walked a slow steady walk, as if counting his paces.
“Harold?” she called to him.
“Yes?” he asked, turning, his lips pursed, obviously holding back biting words.
“I have left my horse within Maude’s home and I was hoping to be able to fetch him. He is not as grand by any means as Lord Hardwyck’s horses, but all the same, he is all I have.” She hoped her explanation would excuse her behavior which appeared to have offended him.
“I will send one of the groomsmen to fetch him,” was all he said before turning his back again, dismissing her.
Daring Damsels Page 9
