“One more question?” she asked.
Harold turned toward her, his irritation showing, and she hurried forward to speak to him in low tones. “Sir, when I was in the forest, I came across…a woman. She told me there were Scots running wild about the country. Something about a border castle and fighting. Are we in danger here?” Chloe cared little if they were in danger. She hoped and prayed that Lord Hardwyck had given Harold some information about her family.
Harold snorted. “You are safe behind these thick stone walls. Lord Hardwyck shan’t allow any Scots barbarians to permeate his lands. And truth be told, the—woman—you ran into, is full of lies. The only Scots anywhere near Hardwyck, are you and Lady Anne.”
With that he frowned and walked away.
Chloe sighed resolutely. The man had no information. She would have to be content for now that she would have her horse. Baby steps. She too turned to go back to her room. The satchel she’d hidden still posed a problem. Although well hidden, it was only a matter of time before it was discovered. She would have to go soon to fetch it, and during the day when neither Maude nor James were about. With her new position, there would be errands she would have to run, and she could easily sneak away for the time it would take her to fetch the satchel and hide it safely within her new chamber.
Chloe looked around the room. It was a simple chamber, with a bed in the center, a wardrobe along the wall, and a small window beside the hearth. Next to her bed was a table, a bowl and pitcher on top of it. In front of the hearth was a delicate wooden chair. The floor had a lush woven carpet in front of the hearth. Three other carpets littered the room, one on each side of the bed and one in front. She was glad for the hearth. The night she’d spent in Maude’s house was cold, although she’d been too exhausted to think on it at the time. She was relieved she would not have to go back. For more than just the warmth this chamber will provide…
Chloe lay down on the bed while waiting for her bath. Sinking into the softness, she tried hard to keep herself awake. It was not as comfortable as her bed at home, but it certainly was an improvement on the dirty straw stuffed mattress she’d slept on the night before, and the many nights on the cold ground before that.
Why was she being treated so highly? She was a stranger, and for all they knew a commoner, come from a poor home. How was it she had been given her own chamber and such responsibility within the keep? How was Lord Hardwyck even sure she’d be able to handle such a position? Could it be all of her fears and worries of Lord Hardwyck knowing who she was were rightly placed? If that were the case why wasn’t she shivering in a cold dungeon or tower?
Mayhap he didn’t know, and her imaginations were running away with her. Lord knew her mind had been working in overdrive lately. Perhaps he was just being a good master and truly believed her when she said she’d been considered for a chatelaine position before arriving.
Part of her didn’t want to worry about his suspicions. Chloe wouldn’t reveal her true identity, and she was happy for her new situation. The other part of her warned danger.
A scratch on the door interrupted her thoughts.
“Come in,” she called, sitting up on the bed.
Several servants entered carrying with them a wooden tub they placed in front of the hearth, and several steaming buckets of water. One of the servants went to work lighting the fire in the hearth, while the others filled the linen lined tub. A young woman came in carrying with her a linen cloth for drying, a brush, sweet smelling herbs and balls of soap. Chloe smelled the sweet scent of jasmine as it floated through the air. Her old self reveled in the thought of the bath with the sweet smelling soap, but her new self stared at the spectacle with dismay.
He knows.
There was no reason for her to have such a treat were she just a servant to the house. Was he toying with her?
“Thank you,” she said as she smiled to the servants leaving her to her needs. They nodded politely and left. Some with questioning looks on their face, others kept their feelings hidden. Were their questioning looks all in her mind, or were they too trying to figure out why she was being treated so favorably?
Not wanting to dwell too long on her thoughts and allow the water to cool, she quickly undressed and sank into the steaming water. Her eyes closed and a low moan escaped her lips. Opening her eyes, she assured herself she was the only one in the room, and laughed at her childish fear. She soaked in the tub for awhile, letting the warm water soothe her aching muscles, and drain the stress from her body. Taking one of the balls of soap, she began to scrub the grime of almost a month’s worth of dirt from her body. When her skin was smooth and fresh, she dunked her head and began to massage the soap into her hair.
She was coming back to life with the simple pleasure of a bath. Oh, the things she’d taken for granted in her privileged life. Never before would she have thought a bath would make her feel so good.
Alexander stood in the darkness of the hall listening to all that went on beyond the closed door to Chloe’s bedchamber. He heard the sloshing of water as she sat in the tub, and the moan that escaped her lips. His body stiffened at the sound of it and he had to hold himself back from slamming open the door, pulling her from the tub and throwing her onto the bed.
He thought the bath would please her. Why did he care? She was deceiving him. Alexander smiled and raked his hands through his hair. He was going to great lengths to win the battle. Slow and agonizing he’d decided. She would realize he knew and he couldn’t wait to see her response.
He’d ordered the soaps himself, when he thought he would be bringing home a wife. The sweet smell of jasmine wafted through the crack at the bottom of the door and he inhaled deeply. The overwhelming need to bury his face into her hair and smell the floral scents within it was too much.
Raging hard, his cock throbbed against the confines of his clothes. He took in a deep breath, lips parted as he imagined the naked lush body of the lady in disguise. His thick flesh pulsed, and twitched. He reached a hand to his middle, stroking himself, before a sound down the hall pulled him back to reality.
“Damn,” he muttered. He’d been about to stroke himself to climax right here in his own corridor. He had to get this woman out of his mind! He chastised himself for his behavior and laid his head against the door for another split second. Reluctantly he dragged himself down the stairs and outside into the crisp air. What he needed was more exercise. Obviously the heavy workout earlier hadn’t been enough for him. He practically ran to the stable, where he ordered a groom to saddle Hero. He mounted the steed and took off, the horse feeling his need for speed.
After washing, Chloe sat in the water rejoicing in the hot bubbles caressing her skin. Oh, how she wished the bath would never end. She feared it would be a long time until she could have another. From what she’d learned the English weren’t too fond of bathing, at least not as frequently as she had bathed since childhood. When the water began to cool and her skin was pruning, she begrudgingly climbed out and dried herself with the linen cloth the maidservant left.
Pulling on her stockings and chemise she sat on the wooden chair in front of the hearth. She brushed her long hair, letting the heat from the fire warm her.
She didn’t know how long she sat there staring into the blaze, but it was long enough for her abundance of hair to dry and curl. The combination of the bath and the warmth of the fire left her groggy, and she longed to curl up under the covers of the bed for a short nap. But judging from the time she’d spent already, it was surely nearing the mid-day meal, and she did not want to anger Harold by coming down too late.
Hurriedly, she dressed in the smooth cream colored gown she’d received from the tailor. The gown had a square cut neckline, that came to just the top of her breasts. She braided her hair, letting it fall down her back. Next she attached the matching cream hood to her hair as best she could and then adorned her gown with the leather braided girdle the tailor had given her. The girdle rested on her hips, snugger than she was used to.
Slipping Jon’s dagger into the sheath attached to her hip, she gave one last longing look at her new bed and left the chamber.
As Chloe descended the stairs, loud commotion could be heard coming from the great hall. She was late. They’d already started preparing for the meal. She groaned inwardly at the thought of Harold’s stern rebuke.
When she rounded the corner and entered the room, the noises she’d heard before ceased as everyone stopped talking and shuffling about to turn and stare at her. Her cheeks heated to burning at all the attention. For a moment she almost turned and ran. Shaking off her embarrassment, she squared her shoulders and looked straight ahead. She continued into the room as if not a single person were staring at her.
Harold watched from his place across the room as Chloe entered the great hall. He clamped his mouth shut. He had been prepared to chastise her greatly for her tardiness, but all thoughts of his harsh words left him as he watched her enter and cross the room in his direction. She looked every bit a queen with her head held high, her back straight and her legs and feet looking as if they floated across the floor.
She was virtually unrecognizable from the filthy peasant girl he’d been introduced to. If he hadn’t worked here himself, he would have thought she was the mistress of the keep. The title chatelaine fit her perfectly. Her air commanded respect and admiration. He stifled the instinct to bow before her, and looked around the room at the rest of his staff. They were just as greatly affected by her as he was. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and stared, eyes wide, mouths agape.
Who was this girl? Lord Hardwyck had given him little information about her, and had not given him much of his thoughts about who she could be other than he didn’t think she was a commoner as she claimed. Harold agreed. It was quite clear to him as he studied her she was anything but common. Everything about this young woman proclaimed she had grown up surrounded by privilege.
She looked angelic in her simple light colored gown. Her raven hair formed a dark contrast to the pale unadorned hood. Her attire looked out of place on her, as if she was playing dress up—or rather—dress down. It was much improved from the rags she had come to them wearing, yet it was still greatly lacking. He imagined she should be wearing brightly colored brocades and a jeweled headdress.
Now that her face and hair were clean, Harold couldn’t help but notice she was a great beauty. Her hair shimmered with a glossiness only known to those who had taken great care with their locks all their lives. He was going to have his hands full keeping an eye on this woman. He could already see he would, from the stares she was receiving from some of the male servants. He might even have to protect her from himself.
Not wanting her to make more a spectacle than she already was, Harold raised his hands, clapped them and ordered everyone back to work. As if they had been in a trance, the other servants shook their heads, and jolted back to their duties.
“My apologies for being late. My bath took longer than expected,” Chloe said, her face burning a little as she spoke.
She noticed how Harold had perused her new look as she came in. What was he thinking? Did she meet his approval?
“’Tis fine,” Harold said shortly. “One of the duties that I will be leaving to you is the mid-day meal. For now, I will continue with the evening meal, but soon you will be taking that position as well. As steward, I also have to look after the entire estate, as well as the duties that would normally fall on a mistress. Since we have no mistress about, and you are now here as the chatelaine, I see it only fitting that you take on the duties of such a mistress.”
Chloe’s eyes widened a little at his suggestions. This was all too much for her and she felt herself growing faint. Harold must have seen the look in her eyes, and quickly grabbed her elbow, leading her to one of the benches at the table.
“I know this must be a lot for you. You have not even been here a full day, and yet you’ve already been given and asked of so much. ‘Tis the way of Lord Hardwyck. Things move quite quickly. I will give you a few moments to let things sink in before we begin your training of the mid-day meal.” At that he left her, waving a servant over to give her some ale.
Chloe gulped the drink quickly, not caring what anyone thought of her. Too much warred within her. Her life had irrevocably changed greatly in only three weeks time. Oh, to be a man for just this instance and not have to deal with what had befallen her. Living a life in hiding, keeping her identity secret, was something that she had never imagined doing. Now she lived in the keep and would be acting as mistress for all intents and purposes. If that wasn’t drawing attention toward her, she didn’t know what was. She was doing exactly the opposite of what she had hoped for in the first place.
Of course she knew the duties would not be hard for her. She had grown up learning the duties of a mistress of a castle, albeit it had been as the wife of the lord as well. She knew that she would be able to do her work well. Mayhap if she kept her head down, did her duties, and quietly retired to her room each night, she could keep the attention off herself and salvage somewhat of a private life. She also saw the benefits of being in close proximity to the lord. If over time he grew to trust her than maybe—no, she would never tell him.
But what of Lady Anne? Did she have any duties here?
“I see that you have had a moment to collect yourself,” Harold said moving to stand over her.
“Yes, Harold, thank you.” She paused a moment, not sure quite how to phrase her concern.
He stood looking at her with his eyebrow raised in question.
“What of Lady Anne? She is the only lady in attendance here. Does she not have the duties of mistress?”
A stern look of reproach came across Harold’s face and she realized her question had not been taken as she hoped.
“I mean no offense, sir, it is just that I do not want her to feel like I am overstepping my boundaries, if there are certain things that she does.”
His look of reproach waned a bit, and he nodded understanding. “Yes, there are a few things Lady Anne does, but her husband is in service to Lord Hardwyck, so she is also considered to be in service. She will do as Lord Hardwyck has commanded, and she understands your place here. It is possible that she and you may become companions.”
“I am but a commoner, and she a lady, the possibility for our companionship is slight,” Chloe said in a smooth voice, being sure there was no bite to her words. She merely wanted to emphasize that she was a no lady.
“Now Chloe, I understand you claim to be a commoner, but between us, I know you cannot be as you say,” he said low enough that no one else could hear. She opened her mouth to protest and he raised his hand to stop her. “Do not deny it, for I will not believe you. Know this: I will keep your secret safe, but I will have my eye on you all the same.”
Not sure whether this was a test or not, Chloe did not want to validate Harold’s statement. She took a deep breath and made sure her face was one of even emotion.
“With all due respect sir, I know not to what you refer. I do know that his lordship has offered me safety, a comfortable room, food to eat, clothes to wear and a way in which to earn all these things. I am very fortunate that I should fall under such circumstances. I do not intend to do anything that would harm my current situation. I am grateful to know that I have your trust.”
Harold nodded curtly. The look in his eyes said that he did not believe a word she said. However, not offering another utterance on the topic showed Chloe he could be discrete.
Harold continued with the lesson on the mid-day meal and how she was to go about seeing that it was prepared. He introduced her to all of the serving, cleaning and cooking staff, and even allowed her to take over for him toward the end. He did appear to be impressed with how quickly she learned. Either that or all of his earlier suspicions about her being high born were confirmed. She groaned inwardly realizing that her knowledge of such things was a blessing and a curse at the same time.
She did make up a short story a
bout a family of nobles she had previously served in France to add to her charade. Harold simply nodded and looked down his long narrow nose at her. His expression seemed to say, “of course you did,” in a mocking manner.
At noon time, Chloe watched as all the knights came boisterously into the hall, clearly hungry from their strenuous physical training. Their swords at their sides clinked as they took their seats. A few made bawdy comments to the maids. Chloe was a little surprised to see them all come in to eat. Harold told her it was a daily ritual for the knights to eat with Lord Hardwyck, not only the mid-day meal, but the eve meal as well. He informed her it would be a rare occasion for entertainment to be conducted during the meals, which she found disappointing.
While growing up and even now, the noontime meal had been the highlight of the day. There was always some form of entertainment, and they almost always had guests. Not once did her father’s knights, or any other servant, dine with him.
Chloe motioned the servants to begin serving ale and putting out trenchers as the men took their seats. She tried to ignore the knight’s continued ruckus of loud jokes and comments.
Then Lord Hardwyck walked through the entryway. His strides were long, purposeful and confident. His very presence took her breath away. His gaze immediately fell on her, at first a look of confusion coming over his face, and then recognition. She saw a twinkle come into his eyes and he winked at her. A shiver wound its way up and down her spine.
Taken aback, she turned to see if there was someone behind her, but there was not. Had he really winked at her? She turned back to the doorway and saw Lord Hardwyck chuckling softly. He strode toward her, a swagger in his stride that she found all too appealing. When he came to stand in front of her, she lifted her chin and stared straight into his eyes.
“You clean up quite nicely, mademoiselle,” he said softly to her, his voice like a caress to her overworked nerves.
Daring Damsels Page 10
