‘I would not have you fear me at all, madam, especially as we are snowbound here for a few more days at least. If you believe nothing else of me, believe I am a gentleman.’ He raised his brows. ‘Why do you look at me like that, do you doubt me?’
‘My experience of gentlemen is that they take what they want of their servants—of any woman—and damn the consequences.’
He frowned. Not at the unladylike language but at the bitterness in her voice. He had not heard that note before and it disturbed him.
‘Not all gentlemen behave like that, Mrs Hopwood,’ he told her. ‘And you are not my servant.’
‘No, indeed.’ She gave a faint smile, her eyes softening, then she seemed to recollect herself and withdrew from him. ‘Since the snow makes it impossible for you to be rid of me for a few days, I had best get on with preparing dinner for this evening.’
She made to rise and he put out a hand to stop her.
‘Not yet. Take a moment to drink your coffee.’ She sank down again and he said, ‘You are an unusual woman, Nancy Hopwood. Tell me about yourself.’
She shrugged. ‘My story is no different from many other respectable women. I have no man to support me—and no wish for one!—and I was fortunate enough to find a position as a cook.’
‘And your employer, he is good man?’
She smiled at that. ‘My employer is not a man at all, it is a charity. I work at a house in the north of England that takes in women who have no other home. There is a small farm attached where we grow what we need and sell any surplus and we all do what we can to support ourselves. Those who are good with their hands make things we can sell, such as knitted purses, or stockings. My passion is cooking, so it was natural I should take over the kitchen.’
‘Then what were you doing in Tuxford?’
‘I have been to London. On business. I was on my way back when I came across you in the wood.’ Her shoulders lifted a fraction. ‘I am not one to ignore any creature in trouble.’
‘Which was fortunate for me.’ He refilled their cups. ‘But how long can this charity spare you?’
‘As long as I am needed here.’ She met his eyes, a challenge in her own. ‘We may differ on how long that will be, but you will admit that while the snow continues I cannot leave.’
And it was safe enough for her to remain. For the moment.
He said: ‘I freely admit that you cannot quit this house today, ma’am, and most likely you will be here tomorrow, too, but you should go as soon as may be. I am going on well enough now. John and I are quite capable of looking after ourselves.’
‘And you will not tell me why you are so eager for me to leave?’
‘Will you believe me if I say I might forget I am a gentleman if you stay here much longer?’
She smiled at that, but shook her head. ‘Of course I will, but that is not the only reason. There is some mystery about you and I wish you would share it with me.’
‘It is best that you do not know, ma’am.’
‘Then I am obliged to conclude you are here upon some unlawful business.’ She sighed and her mouth drooped. ‘I do not wish to think of you as a villain.’
It was his turn to smile.
‘You need not think it, but neither will your gusty sighs persuade me to tell you.’
‘I thought I might as well try.’
She peeped up at him from under her lashes, a roguish look that made him catch his breath as the simmering desire turned to a bolt of pure lust. It required a supreme effort to remain still and keep his countenance impassive.
She finished her coffee. ‘Thank you, sir, for the refreshment and the company. But now I really must get on.’
As she pushed the cup away he reached out and caught her wrist.
‘Will you dine with me again? I think I am well enough to sit in the morning room this evening. We could of course use the dining room but it is large and draughty. Dashed difficult to heat.’
Nancy was shocked at the way her skin reacted to his touch. Darts of electricity shot through her arm, setting her pulse racing. It was as much as she could do not to cry out or pull away.
She said, as calmly as she could, ‘I believe you dined here in the kitchen with Mr Thoresby, prior to our arrival.’
‘Well, yes, but—’
He released her and the disappointment she felt was a further surprise. Alarming, too. He might be a gentleman, he might not mean her any harm, but he was surely dangerous. It was in her own interests to keep him at a distance.
‘Then I suggest we all eat in here together,’ she told him. ‘There is a strong argument in favour of the arrangement, the food will be hotter when it reaches the table.’
‘I have no objection, if that is what you wish.’
She was relieved he had accepted the suggestion so readily. Much as she had enjoyed his company last night, she knew it would be safer to dine with the others. She found Gabriel far too attractive and was in no doubt that it would be all too easy to succumb to his charm. Heaven forbid he should realise the effect he had on her. Now she threw him a pitying look.
‘I am the cook, Mr Shaw. I am quite accustomed to eating at the kitchen table.’
‘Who is eating at the kitchen table?’ Hester came in, carrying the plucked chicken and bringing with her a blast of cold air.
‘Everyone,’ Nancy replied. ‘It will be more convenient for us all to eat together.’
‘Oh, no, madam, we cannot do that.’ Hester stopped in her tracks. ‘You are a lady, Miss Nancy, even if you have fallen on hard times. You will dine in the morning room with Mr Shaw.’
Nancy gave a little tut of frustration. ‘It is not seemly for us to dine alone.’
‘It is seemlier than you both sitting in the kitchen,’ Hester retorted. She stomped into the larder to deposit the chicken, saying when she returned, ‘And from what I’ve seen of this gentleman, I don’t believe you’ll come to any harm.’
Gabriel beamed at her. ‘Thank you, Mrs Yelland.’
‘You may be right about this...gentleman.’ Nancy threw him a scorching look. ‘However, it will be a lot less work for everyone if we all eat together. And you won’t need to carry the food through those draughty passages!’
But Hester was not to be moved. She folded her arms.
‘If you won’t think of yourself, madam, think of Mr Thoresby and William. It’ll quite put them off their dinner, to have to eat it in your presence.’
‘But we dined together when we arrived here,’ Nancy protested.
‘That was from necessity. What with Mr Shaw at death’s door and the rest of the house unheated and unprepared, there was only the kitchen fit to use. But now everything’s different. We will all be much happier if the two of you are dining elsewhere and we can get on with our own meal in peace.’
Gabriel gave a little cough. ‘You would not wish to make the others uncomfortable, Mrs Hopwood.’
‘No, of course not, but since I shall be preparing the meal—’
Hester interrupted her. ‘We managed yesterday and we shall do the same this evening. I am sure Mr Shaw will agree that you work hard enough as it is. The least we can do is to see to it that you enjoy your dinner.’
Nancy stared at her in silence, frustration bringing an angry colour to her cheeks.
Gabriel rose from the table, chuckling. ‘And you said I did not like having my will crossed. I shall leave you now, but I look forward to joining you for dinner later, Mrs Hopwood. In the morning room!’
Nancy watched him walk out and it was as much as she could do not to pick up something from the table and hurl it at the door.
‘Of all the arrogant, high-handed—’
‘Very much like yourself,’ Hester commented. ‘Come along now, Miss Nancy, there’s no time for a tantrum. We must get a move on or we will be eating dinner at midnight.’
Nancy returned to her cooking, muttering to herself, but gradually the discipline of preparing the meal soothed away her anger and by the time she went up to her room to change for dinner she was resigned to her fate. She put on the blue silk again, knowing it was the only evening gown that was decorous enough for a poor and modest widow.
* * *
Gabriel was just coming out of his room opposite her own as she stepped out on to the landing. With a bow he offered her his arm. She hesitated, still angry with him for not supporting her decision to eat in the kitchen.
‘It is not gallantry,’ he informed her. ‘I am still unsteady and I need your assistance to descend these stairs.’
A laugh bubbled up, dispelling her anger.
‘You are a complete rogue,’ she scolded, placing her fingers on his sleeve.
‘Unfair, ma’am, when you yourself say I am not yet fully recovered.’
‘I was wrong. You are much improved, although I am relieved to see you are using the handrail.’
They reached the hall and she withdrew her hand and preceded him into the morning room, where the shutters had been closed and the fire was burning merrily. The small dining table was already set for dinner and Gabriel stepped forward to hold her chair.
‘If you are afraid for your virtue, we could always leave the door open,’ he suggested.
‘And lose the benefit of the fire? No, I thank you.’ She glanced up at him. ‘I will risk being alone with you.’
It was no hardship, she thought, as they settled down to their meal. Gabriel was good company. He was intelligent, his conversation was both witty and entertaining and she soon relaxed and began to enjoy herself. She had forgotten to put the muslin fichu about her neck, but there was nothing in Gabriel’s manner to cause her alarm. His eyes did not linger on her breasts, nor did he try to flirt with her. They talked companionably about various subjects with the ease of old friends, and the evening sped by. When the long-case clock in the hall chimed the hour, she exclaimed in surprise.
‘Is that the time already? I had no idea it was so late.’
‘Eleven o’clock cannot be considered late, ma’am.’
‘It is for an invalid such as yourself. You need to rest.’ She rose, but waved to him to remain in his seat. ‘Pray do not get up.’ She walked to the side table to collect a decanter and a glass and bring it to him. ‘There, I will leave you with your brandy and bid you goodnight, Mr Shaw.’
When he reached for her hand she gave it to him without thinking. He pressed a kiss upon her fingers and let her go. A friendly gesture, she told herself. Nothing more.
‘Goodnight, Mrs Hopwood.’
‘Mr Shaw.’
Oh, how she wanted to stay! Her whole being protested as she turned away from him and her spine tingled with the knowledge that he was watching her. He would not object, she was sure, if she remained to drink another glass of wine with him, but then what? There was only one way the evening would end if she showed such a preference for his company. And though her body might cry out for relief from the longing that disturbed her nights, Gabriel Shaw was too charming, too attractive, and she feared she might grow too attached to him. She would not risk her heart for a moment’s pleasure. She walked out, closing the door quietly behind her, and kept walking until she had reached the safety of her bedchamber, where she resolutely turned the key in the lock.
* * *
Gabriel watched Nancy leave the room. She was a tall woman and built on queenly lines, but she moved with an almost liquid grace that made him long to see her in a ballroom. He poured himself a measure of brandy and sipped it, his mind filled with the agreeable image of Nancy gliding across the dance floor, the skirts of her gown shimmering in the candlelight as they swayed about her hips.
A line of poetry came into his head and he murmured it aloud.
‘“How sweetly flows that liquefaction of her clothes!” Who wrote that? Herrick, of course.’ He bethought him of another line from Herrick, this time writing of Julia’s breasts.
Between whose glories there my lips I’ll lay.
With something that was almost a growl he shook off his reverie.
‘Confound it, such thoughts will do me no good at all!’
Finishing his brandy, he pushed himself to his feet and made for the door.
* * *
Nancy lay in her bed, her head, her whole body buzzing. She was not in the least sleepy and wished she had been able to stay talking with Gabriel into the early hours. It had been years since she had enjoyed a man’s company so much and the thought set alarm bells ringing. He roused in her a longing for more than just conversation. She wanted to touch him, to feel his arms about her. To assuage the terrible loneliness that she had barely acknowledged until now. Over the years she had learned to protect herself where men were concerned. A single woman could not afford the luxury of letting down her guard. Only once had she lost her heart and she knew the pain of loving a man who could never be hers. She would not risk that again.
She tensed, clenching her hands at her sides. She had her work and her friends at Prospect House, was that not enough? The traitorous voice inside told her no. She wanted a man’s touch, a man’s kiss. But it was not just the physical need that alarmed her. She felt, nay, she was certain, that if circumstances had been different, Gabriel Shaw could have been a friend. Someone to laugh with, to share jokes. To share worries.
Impatiently she rolled on to her side. Heavens, what was happening to her? She was far too old for such a foolish infatuation. But when she was with Gabriel she felt giddy and reckless, ready to throw her cap over the windmill. With a sigh she sat up and turned her pillow. Oh, this would never do. Her friends at Prospect House relied upon her for her good sense and here she was behaving like a schoolgirl, losing her head over an attractive man about whom she knew nothing. Less than nothing.
She remembered her father’s housekeeper, Mrs Crauford, saying ‘Handsome is as handsome does’ and she must keep that in mind, because Gabriel was most definitely handsome. She felt a sigh building and fought it back, determined to be sensible. If Gabriel had indeed been left to perish by his enemies it might make him a victim, but it did not mean he was a good or an honest man. That remained to be seen.
She settled down again, snuggling her hand against her cheek. Relaxed and warm within the comfort of her bed and with the door securely locked, she allowed her thoughts to wander freely. There was no denying Gabriel was very attractive, with his dark hair and charming smile, and those eyes... She took a moment to consider his eyes. They were as blue as the borage flowers she used to decorate her salads and when he looked at her, just so, it felt as if his glance was piercing her very soul. Yes, even with the fading remains of that bruise upon his cheek he was handsome enough to turn a girl’s head. Lucky then, she thought sleepily, that she was no longer a girl...
Chapter Five
‘Wind got up last night, Miss Nancy. William Coachman says nothing will be moving by road for a while yet.’
From the cosy comfort of her bed, Nancy heard Hester’s news with a sinking heart. She had spent a restless night, dreaming of Gabriel, holding him, kissing him. Waking with her body burning and aching for his touch. She had crawled out of bed to unlock her door, and by the time Hester came in with her morning tea and hot water, she had decided that the less time she spent in Gabriel’s company the better for her peace of mind. Before climbing into bed, she had peeped out of the window. The snow had stopped and she had thought it felt a little warmer, giving rise to the hope that a thaw might set in. The news that she must remain longer at Dell House was a blow. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Outside the first glimmer of dawn was painting the sky a dull rose.
‘Can we not push through any drifts and at least make our way back to Tuxford?’ Suddenly almost anywhere seemed better than remaining in the same house as Gabriel Shaw.
‘Aye, we might do that on
the lane, but William has just come in after walking Darlton way and said the roads in every direction are blocked.’ Hester picked up the poker and began to rake over the ashes. ‘Looks like we shall be obliged to remain here for a few more days yet, ma’am.’
‘Well, what cannot be cured must be endured.’ Nancy threw back the covers and slipped out of bed. The floor struck chill even through the thick rug under her feet. ‘Don’t bother with the fire, Hester, I will wash quickly and join you in the kitchen as soon as I am dressed.’
‘Work,’ she said to herself as she splashed the warm water on her face. ‘There is plenty of work to be done in the kitchen and that will keep me out of Gabriel’s way.’
* * *
But she had reckoned without the attraction of a warm room and the delicious smell of baking that drew everyone into the kitchen at noon. William had already come in from the stables and was enjoying a plate of bread, cheese and onion which he declared would keep him going until dinner time, while John Thoresby had persuaded Hester to cut him a slice of the game pie left over from yesterday. The room was redolent with the scent of lemon and spices by the time Gabriel appeared, looking so impossibly handsome that Nancy’s heart gave a little skip. He came in wearing breeches and top boots with the full sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to expose muscled forearms.
Nancy was standing over the mixing bowl, the ingredients for a cake spread out on the table before her. Frowning, she bent her head and gave her attention to beating together the flour, eggs and sugar. It was easy to ignore the banter going on between Hester and John Thoresby, and William was happily ensconced in a chair by the range, lost in his own thoughts. Gabriel, however, after helping himself to a slice of pie, eased himself on to the bench across the table from Nancy, determined to talk.
‘You slept well, I hope, madam?’
‘Perfectly, sir.’ A lie, but what was one supposed to say? ‘You are well enough to work out of doors, I see.’
The Highborn Housekeeper Page 5
