To my horror, I heard the steps coming up to where I was recently and stopped, keeping me pinned in my location until the perpetrator moved along. Seeing how they stopped, and knowing Mr. Hugh was probably the only other person to read, I knew it was His Lordship standing in the spot I had been.

  I knew I was in a conundrum. I could either pretend to be cleaning where I was and ignore him like any servant would do, or I could continue hiding and hope he grabbed his book quickly and left. Before the decision was made, he stepped to the end of the row and found me, duster out, standing awkwardly in the corner shelves.

  It had been a few weeks since I saw him. His beauty took my breath away once more, his vivid eyes searching over my face and my hands grasping the duster. I squeezed the duster before dipping for a curtsy to show my recognition of his station over mine.

  His eyes stayed a bit longer on my dust coated hands before turning away and returning to the shelves for the book he was searching for. Taking this as a cue to continue my task, I moved to the last row of books and hurriedly dusted the shelves, hoping to ignore his presence in the other aisle. Time moved slowly as I kept dusting and hearing the movement of books sliding in and out of the shelves, with the occasional page turn. My brain was screaming at him to leave, and my lethargy evaporated as I continued to dust quickly to leave the hell I was placed in.

  When I dusted the last shelf, I felt a sense of relief as I gathered my materials and aimed for the door. I survived my first encounter since our fight and I was thrilled that we were able to act with decorum and grace.

  As I reached my hand for the door handle, I heard a small “wait” from behind me. Cursing under my breath that it was too easy, I turned to face him, seeing him face me without his normal malice on his face.

  “Yes my lord. Is there something I can fetch you?” I asked calmly, surprised at my poise in what I figured was a stressful situation.

  Lord Duvan cleared his throat and motioned to me with his gloved hands to take a seat at one of the armchairs in the library. Looking down at my dress covered in dust, I groaned inwardly at the thought of recleaning that area and sat, wishing he would put me out of this torture.

  “I wanted to say, Lisbeth, that I see now that I was wrong about my assumption,” he started.

  I stared shockingly at him, recognizing an apology when I heard one.

  “A woman of standing would not have years of work engrained on them like you and well…” He looked at his gloved hands and sighed before continuing. “Hands are the vessel of beauty from one of standing. I hope we can look past our disagreement for now.”

  Exhaustion from the night before crept up and feeling too deflated to fight and say anything back, I nodded and made a stand to rise from my chair.

  “However,” he continued, and I felt my hands leave the armrests and settle back in my lap.

  I hoped he got to his point soon, my beating heart couldn’t take much more.

  “It is very strange that I don’t know that much about you. In all my years here, and seeing other towns, I am amazed that this is the first time I have thought of where a servant came from and what their background is. I would like to hear from you what Cromerth is like and how you got here. It is not a town worth visiting but I am intrigued by it’s customs.”

  I sighed and responded calmly, “Whenever you wish, my lord.”

  He gave me a small glimpse of a smile as he motioned to the chair behind me to sit in it.

  Knowing I was trapped, I sat back down and faced him, ready for his investigation into my life.

  “My first question is why did you leave?”

  “I left because I was arranged in a marriage that did not suit me,” I started. “If you don’t know the Cromerth tradition, it is designed to have girls of eighteen be married off to men they don’t always like. I know it is for household control but it became almost chaotic and created tension when making proposals to those who run it to get a life that they wanted.”

  I stopped as he stared down at me. I gulped, hoping that I didn’t offend him and his ancestors' way of handling the situation.

  “Were you arranged?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I stated coldly. “I was a match-up to the son of the woman that ran our lottery. My father wanted a wife and needed me out so he arranged it to work for his benefit and theirs, but not mine.” Residual anger seeped through me again over the period of time I feared being determined to be sold off. I didn’t try not to dive deep into my feelings as he went on to ask the next question.

  “Don’t you miss it though? Would you have preferred that lifestyle to stick around with your loved ones?”

  Guilt swam through me as I thought of Clara and Abigail who abandoned me once I was engaged. I had not thought too much about them since my move and I knew that while my situation was difficult, their situation was, too. My epiphany dawned at the worst time as I sat back and realized in my selfishness, I did nothing to help my loved ones and I spent the time only worrying about me and my fate. Feeling tears suddenly drip from my face, I saw the blurry shock from His Lordship as I rose and tipped the quickest curtsy. Without another word, I sprinted from the library and ran past a surprised Mr. Hugh and Emily in the kitchen straight into my bedroom and cried myself into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter 14

  T he following days blurred together as the summer rains kept falling each day, bringing awful humidity to the summer. My crops were growing and I started picking some of the early arrivals to store and clean for the upcoming winter. My plants matched my time here, I was three months in and every day was a routine that made me almost guiltily happy that I left the current situation. I was still saddened by the discussion I had, thinking of Clara and Abigail and how I deserted them when they also lived the disastrous life of women being forced into a life they didn’t choose. My worry for them grew each day, knowing that Abigail was never to be married and possibly Clara was pregnant with that bastard's baby.

  One morning I was working in the garden, pruning the vegetables when Gavan approached me with a serious expression on his face. He didn’t have to say anything to let me know that something was not sitting right with him and it had something to do with me.

  “What is it?” I said, hands buried deep in the dirt. I didn’t rise to greet him, my cowardice was more prominent than my curiosity.

  “Can you stop and come here?” Gavan asked, not dropping his frown as he said it. Wiping my hands back into the dirt, I rose and cracked my back before trudging towards him. When I got within arms length of him, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me away from the garden and headed towards the barn.

  The barn was hot and tepid as we headed to the open stall. I used my other hand to wipe the sweat from my forehead as he stomped onto the straw. Once he let go of me, I crossed my arms and waited impatiently for Gavan to spill whatever he wanted to say to me.

  “Remember a while ago when I told you about Natalie,” he whispered to me, almost like he didn’t want any of the horses to hear.

  I thought carefully, but the name didn’t ring a bell. I shook my head and he groaned out in frustration.

  “The girl, two girls before you, that he had a ‘fascination’ with? The one that is not a good girl anymore.”

  “Oh.” I gulped, remembering after all. “Yes.”

  He sighed before continuing. “He told Mr. Hugh to get you some new dresses, the nice ones.” He swallowed and pressed on. “When Mr. Hugh said that you are leaving though, he said he changed his mind and that he was thinking of getting a new girl anyways and using you for more than cleaning.”

  My stomach turned at his words. What was going to happen to me? What did His Lordship have in mind? I admit to being naive but I knew that dresses and “more than cleaning” was not a good sign of how things were going to be.

  “What should I do?” I whispered to him frantically, wiping the sweat from my forehead again.

  “Stay away from him for now,” he whispered back and looked around the stalls, making sure no one was overhearing, though a few horses twitched when I glanced through the stalls with him. “I’ll talk to Mr. Hugh about it as well, maybe he can provide some ideas on what else we can do.”

  I nodded as he grabbed my hand.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, sounding genuine in his apology. Before I could say anything, he strode away from me and exited the humid barn and back to the bright fresh air.

  I stared at the closed door for a minute thinking before following. This whole “will he be nice to me or leave me alone” nonsense was making me get whiplash in the worst kind of way. In my own confused way, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to notice me or not. I did know that this back and forth was giving me anxiety that reminded me of the moment my name got announced the few months prior. I sneaked back to the garden, but the ambition was gone. The old conversation was popping back in my mind.

  Did I really want to be a servant forever? No, not really. My brain was too restless to enjoy such mindless work. Would I be okay with being a disgraced woman? That I did not know, especially because I assumed I would never encounter such things in this household. Did I want his attention? That was the big question I had to ask myself. Did I enjoy our conversations? Sometimes. Did I find him attractive? Definitely. Could I belong to a man with such a temper, only to have him cast me out when he was bored or too angry with me? That required more thought and digging.

  The idea of being his mistress didn’t revolt me to the point of not having those questions. The debate that my sister and best friend would make though along the way made me chuckle, my sister telling me to go for it, Abigail yelling at me to not even think about it. I wish I had them there to help me through this decision and my heart ached for their presence. If only I could have talked to them one more time, to apologize or ask for forgiveness for my selfishness, and to have them guide me through what might be one more turn in my life's story.

  I finished the day with lots of thoughts swirling in my head, however, no one approached me about the situation. In fact, I was left on my own, even through our meals, which was disheartening to me, especially with the loneliness I felt after thinking about Clara and Abigail. After the late meal of stew, I sighed and crept up the stairs, thinking that tomorrow would not be near any more confusing than what I faced today. I reached the top of the stairs in darkness and slowly walked towards my room, hoping for some extra reading time before bed. When I arrived inside my pitch black room, I went to sit in the bed for a few minutes, knowing I should let my eyes adjust before I lit my candle. To my horror though, as I sat on my bed, a foreign object was underneath me and I sprang up to see what it was. It was some kind of soft material, different from the scratchy quilt I was currently sleeping on. After my eyes adjusted a bit more, I saw it was some kind of garment, and Gavan’s conversation became a reality over how he wanted to buy me clothes.

  When my eyes found the matchbox, I sprang forth some fire, fumbling at first, and lit a candle to get a better look. On the bed laid the most beautiful gown in a deep green and lace overlay to the neckline and sleeves. The bodice had some delicate cinching down to bring attention to a bosom and the material was as smooth as water. Crumbled from my sitting, stood a note with elegant scroll over it, with three words:

  Dinner, tomorrow night.

  Chapter 15

  N ot sure if I was supposed to wear the elegant dress, I still slapped it on and blindly braided my hair before heading downstairs to his study. I wished I could have had the courage look at myself before leaving my room, but since I didn’t know what to expect, it was probably a good idea not to dwell on the thoughts of my appearance, and to think about what I was going to say to him instead.

  I felt uncomfortable in the exquisite material that I am sure Abigail would have swooned over just to have in her shop. While the dresses I wore the past few months were not the most beautiful things I owned, the one I was wearing now did not feel like something I should be allowed to wear, and it was constricting in places I did not enjoy. I could tell this dress did not fit perfectly either, the length was too long so the fabric hit the floor and there was a gap near the top of the dress to show my lack of bosom.

  I arrived at his study and knocked on the door. I heard footsteps approaching and I braced myself for whatever mood he was going to be in. When he opened the door, I was pleased to see a mute expression on his face instead of the normal anger I was accustomed to. I dipped to a curtsey before he motioned me in and led me to the chair that I ate stew in a few months ago.

  I barely had time to adjust my dress before he sat in the opposite chair and started speaking.

  “I see you received my gift.” Amusement dripped from his voice as he continued to inspect me.

  “Yes,” I said simply, trying to smooth out the foreign material. Silence held the air as I stared at the ruffles instead of him.

  “Well?” he said, waiting for me to continue. I almost rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he wanted: praise.

  “It’s nice, thank you,” I said calmly. I didn’t want to poke the bear too soon. I snuck a glance at his face. He had a darkness about him that led me to believe he didn’t like my answer.

  An uncomfortable silence filled the air, making me wish that I had more freedom to discuss what I wanted. Or better yet, tell him it was a nice thought but this is not working and leave in a huff as I tell him off for the awkwardness and hide in my room, back in my simple dress, reading a book he lent me.

  Lost in my daydream, he sprang up and walked back to his desk, leaning against it. He took a deep breath, facing the documents as he said, “I don’t know how to talk to you.”

  The comment threw me so off guard, I laughed out loud. Surprised by his explanation, I said simply, “I think I have it harder than you, being a lord and all.”

  That was the first smile I saw that night, and my heart skipped seeing a happy expression on his face. Warmed by the thought, I continued. “What is really with the dress?” I stood and showed the material to him, almost like it was scorching me with fire and I was trying to push it away from my skin. “I don’t know if you know this, but this is not really something I feel comfortable with.”

  The smile stayed on his lips as he simply said, “I thought you would enjoy feeling like a lady for the night. Though, seeing you uncomfortable is not a bad sight either.”

  I snorted as I took a seat again and stared daggers at him. “I think, sir, you take sick pleasures in seeing my discomfort.”

  Smirking, he took a few steps away from his desk and said, “I always enjoy seeing how you react to things.”

  I paused at his comment and stared at him with what I would assume was pure shock on my face. “That is only because you don’t know me,” I said as I stood up from my chair.

  “Well, let’s fix that,” he claimed as he approached me. “Over a delicious dinner.”

  I let a smile befall my lips as I walked to the table where covered plates laid. He walked closely to me and pulled out a chair, which I accepted by sitting, to my surprise, with ease.

  The aroma from the food made my mouth water, knowing that whatever laid there was going to be delicious. I racked my brain thinking about what I saw Emily doing in the kitchen but couldn’t remember seeing her that day, though I was probably nervous about the evening and was oblivious to what she was working on. I waited for him to take a seat, which he did, and he lifted his cover to reveal a beautiful seasoned chicken, some green beans, which I took from the garden, and homemade bread with slabs of butter. I smiled widely at the feast that was in front of me.

  “Thank you, my lord,” I whispered, thinking this confusion was now worth it.

  He acknowledged by raising a glass and tilting the brim towards me. “To a future, as bright as you are,” he toasted before taking a drink of the dark ruby liquid that his glass held.

  I blushed and took a sip of it, shocked at the bitter taste that it left in my mouth. It took me a moment to figure out that the drink was wine and it was my first official drink of something alcoholic.

  He lowered the glass and gently put the linen napkin in his lap, not looking at me. I mirrored him as he slowly picked up the fork and knife and started sawing at his chicken. Trying to be as careful as I could be with the borrowed dress, I only took a small sliver and brought it to my lips. The flavor was beautiful and a small moan left my lips from the flavors that exploded my mouth. It was such a good thing I didn’t have this luxury every day or I would be too big to even lift myself from a chair.

  Lord Duvan took a few delicate bites before he spoke again. “How are you enjoying your meal, Lisbeth?”

  Surprised to hear my name, I smiled and said, “It’s delicious. Thank you, my lord”

  “Please,” he said. “Call me Alexander.”

  I was shocked to hear his own name and my cheeks flushed with surprise that all the time I knew him, knew of him, I never knew his first name. My realization that he was no more than a mere human like me brought back what Gavan was warning me about him.

  Taking a deep breath I dropped my smile and said, “Alexander.” The taste felt wrong in my mouth, and the delicious chicken tasted like ash on the next bite, making me regret something that I didn’t even do yet.

  “You seem surprised to find out I have a name,” he said amusingly as he dabbed the corners of his lips with the napkin. “I suppose you only see me as this lord.”

  “Yes, quite surprising,” I replied “Especially because you made such a big deal about what I called you when I first arrived.”

  Confusion swept his face as he faced me. Hesitantly I went, “You know, when you said I had to call you my lord instead of m’lord.”

  His eyes widened, probably remembering the discussion. “Yes,” he said, dropping the smile, “I do remember.” He folded his gloved hands on top of the table, careful to avoid any mess on his expensive clothes.

  I recognized the brilliant jacket and flushed, thinking how great he looked in it. “It was that moment that made me think that you are a woman of standing. I never had anyone talk back to me before.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18