Maid for Scandal - a Regency Novelette Page 4

  “Martha, wait a moment.”

  The red-haired maid scowled, but paused. “What is it? I’ve work to do.”

  “I’m leaving. The master has asked for you to attend him in his chamber.”

  The smile blossoming on Martha’s face made her look almost beautiful. “Has he now? I must go, directly.”

  “Wait.” Anna set her hand on the other girl’s arm. “If… if you should ever find yourself in need of assistance, go to Caswell Manor and ask for Belinda. Tell her that Anna the maid sent you.”

  Martha seemed well enough, now, but any number of troubles could arise for her. Not every maid could simply leave and resume her role as the daughter of gentility. Guilt scratched just under Anna’s skin.

  “I don’t need any help from you,” Martha said. “Goodbye.” She pushed past without a backward glance.

  Well, Anna had done her best. Her throat tight, she gathered up the few items she had borrowed from Belinda’s maid. She was glad to leave the narrow cot and cramped quarters under the eaves, the dreadfully early hours, the difficult work—but the relief was buried under a thick layer of humiliation. She had been so idiotically certain of herself. And ultimately, so very wrong. The knowledge was bitter in her mouth.

  On her way out of the kitchen, Cook gave her a rueful smile and handed her small bundle of food.

  “Good luck, dearie,” she said.

  The simple kindness was nearly enough to unleash the torrent of tears Anna felt building behind her eyes.

  “Thank you,” she managed, tucking the food into her bag.

  Not yet—she would not cry yet. She must go by the stables and say farewell to Jonathan. Blinking fiercely, she left the kitchen gardens behind. The wall where they had kissed—no, she could not look at it. The dairy, the fields filled with clover.

  Outside the stables, she paused to take a shaky breath. What would she tell him? Her mother was ill… yes. That would explain why she must go so quickly, and why she was overset.

  She had no chance, however, to use her lie. When she asked for Jonathan, the other grooms shook their heads, saying he had not arrived yet. She could not pen him a note, so she asked only that they inform him she had left service. At least he would know she had gone.

  There was no way to convey to him how highly she thought of him, after only a few days’ acquaintance—or how much she suspected she would miss him.

  Sniffing, she turned her back on the Wildering’s estate and began the long walk to the Caswell’s. By the time she reached the main road, she could not contain her tears. She blinked fiercely, but hot moisture trickled down her cheeks. However would she explain to Belinda what had happened? She clutched her bundle tightly against her chest and, head bowed, kept on.

  Hoof-beats made her glance up to see a rider approaching. She hurried to the side of the road and stood there, eyes fixed on the dusty grasses, waiting for the traveler to pass by.

  They did not. The hoof-beats slowed, then stopped as the rider came to a halt beside her.

  “Anna?”

  She looked up in surprise, to see Jonathan regarding her.

  “Oh. Hello, Jonathan.”

  She could not say it was lovely to see him—though a part of her heart lightened with gladness to hear his voice again. But it was clear she had been crying, and she had never been a pretty weeper. Her cheeks and nose were certainly flushed, her eyes red-rimmed—not the best face to present to the world.

  “Were you coming to find me?” There was a concerned note in his voice. In one fluid movement, he slid off his horse, holding the reins loosely in one hand.

  “No—though I did look for you at the stables. I… I’ve left the Wildering’s employ.”

  He regarded her closely. “And not happily, I see. What happened?”

  “I’d rather not say.” There was no earthly way she could confess the magnitude of her folly to Jonathan. He would think so poorly of her, if he knew.

  “Ah, Anna…”

  He opened his arms, and somehow it was the most natural thing in the world for her to step into his embrace. She pressed her tear-stained face against his coat, smelling wool and horse and Jonathan. The feel of his arms around her was safety and sympathy—and it made her start crying again.

  One hand smoothing her hair, Jonathan made sounds that she suspected he used to soothe restive horses. Nevertheless, she found herself comforted.

  At last she had no more tears. She gave a final sniff and looked up at him. There was a curious expression in his eyes, a rueful tenderness that surprised her.

  “Have you a handkerchief?” he asked.

  When she shook her head, he pulled one from his waistcoat pocket and gave it to her. She dried her eyes, then turned away to blow her nose. After that, she couldn’t offer it back to him, so she stuffed his kerchief into her apron pocket.

  “Well.” She gave him a smile that wobbled at the corners. “I shouldn’t keep you—you were headed for the stables, I presume?”

  “The stables can wait. Where are you bound, Anna? Have you a place to go? Friends, family?”

  “Yes.” She could tell him nothing more, despite the questioning look on his face.

  He waited a moment, clearly expecting her to say more. Finally, when she did not, he cleared his throat. “Then, wherever you need to go, I will take you there.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to!” Indeed, she could not imagine arriving home with one of the Wildering’s grooms as her escort.

  “You don’t need to ask. I will help you, Anna.”

  It was clear he was not going to let her continue walking alone down the road. “Very well. You may accompany me to Caswell Manor. I’ve… friends there who can give me further assistance.”

  He gave her a close look. “You’ll continue in service, then? Is there a place for you there?”

  “I believe so.” Not, however, in the servant’s quarters.

  She would resume her role as a visiting friend. Her parents already thought her in residence with the Caswells. When she had first arrived, she and Belinda had hidden her luggage and passed it off as a short visit. Belinda had promised to intercept any correspondence, and the initial letter concerning her fortnight’s stay was concealed in the bottom of Belinda’s jewelry-box. Luckily they hadn’t simply tossed it away—it was time for her to arrive for her extended visit.

  “I’ll take you to Caswell Manor.” He mounted again, as easily as he had dismounted, and held out his hand. “It will be faster this way. Come up—don’t be afraid.”

  She took his hand. With his help, and by rather improperly lifting her skirts and stepping on his booted foot, she managed to get onto the horse. Jonathan settled her in front of him. He slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her gently back, until she was leaning against his broad chest.

  “You’re an unusual maid, Anna,” he said.

  “Oh, not at all. I’m quite the usual sort.” She was glad he could not see her face. It was much easier to lie when she could avoid looking in his eyes.

  His laughter vibrated through her. “I don’t know of many maids who ride, or speak with the accent of the gentry.”

  “I was fortunate in my education.”

  “Or proposition men for kissing lessons.”

  Heat blazed into her cheeks. “It was a special circumstance. Really, must you keep bringing it up?” She had learned her lesson, and a painful one it had been.

  “Yes. You are unforgettable, Anna.” He dipped his head and spoke softly, his breath warming the side of her neck. “Might I come visit you at Caswell Manor?”

  “No!” The word was out before she could think.

  He pulled back, and the arm about her waist stiffened. “I had thought—well, never mind. My apologies if I’ve offended you.”

  She wanted to turn and press her lips against his. She wanted to tell him that he had not been wrong. They shared a mutual admiration that, in any other circumstance, could easily have blossomed past friendship into something nearly as brig
ht as the sun.

  But she could not tell him, because it was all built on a lie. It was better to let him think she did not care for him, since any kind of future between them was simply impossible.

  So she held her tongue, and the remainder of the ride to the Caswell’s estate passed in unhappy silence. Jonathan guided his mount up the long drive and around to the servant’s entrance. When she would have slid down, he held her tightly against him for a moment.

  “Goodbye, sweet Anna.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, and she wanted to weep again.

  He helped her dismount, and she could not meet his eyes. It was only when she had reached the door that she had enough control over her emotions to turn and look at him. He was every maid—and maiden’s—dream, with his strong features and keen eyes, his hair roughened by the wind. But she had learned not to trust her dreams.

  “Farewell, Jonathan,” she said. “I will never forget you, either.”

  Before he could say anything, she whirled and went into Caswell Manor, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  “Anna!” Belinda jumped up from her window-seat, her fair curls bobbing, and rushed to enfold Anna in a lily-scented embrace. “I simply can’t accustom myself to seeing you dressed as a maid. Is it your half-day? Has Giles proposed yet? Oh, come sit and tell me everything.”

  “There’s not much to tell. I’ve left the Wildering’s for good.”

  Belinda’s blue eyes widened. “Heavens—and after all our planning, too. Were you found out?”

  “No.” If only it were that simple. “In fact, I was not recognized at all. By anyone.”

  “But… not even by Giles?” Belinda took her hands and clasped them tightly. “Oh, dear. I thought he loved you. How could he not see past a maid’s cap and apron?”

  “I was mistaken about him.” Dreadfully mistaken—though the clues had been there, if only she had been wise enough to see them. “It’s for the best, really. Giles and I wouldn’t suit.”

  Not when she knew he didn’t truly see a person, merely a conquest. Their secret meetings, his endearments to her, they had been empty. He had not wanted to marry her, only take advantage of her. She sighed.

  “Well—no harm done,” Belinda said. “And now you’ve a daring adventure in your past, to lend you a worldly air.”

  A worldly air, indeed. Anna had learned more than she’d wanted, and the price of that wisdom had tarnished her view of the world. She wouldn’t mar Belinda’s innocence by revealing everything. At least, not while the knowledge was still painfully tender.

  “I’m afraid the life of a servant is nothing to wax poetic about, Bel. Only five days and my hands are chapped from scrubbing. And I’d be happy never to observe the sun rising again.”

  Belinda sprang up. “That’s all behind you now. This way you’ll be here for our country ball! We must arrange for you to ‘arrive’ immediately. Here—I’ve hidden your gown in the back of my wardrobe. You change, and I’ll manage the details.”

  An hour later, Anna Harcourt rode up to the front gates of Caswell Manor in a carriage stacked with her luggage. She presented the letter from her parents to the elder Caswells, apologized for the sudden arrival, and was welcomed warmly. Only she and Belinda knew that, folded in the depths of her valise, lay a plain maid’s dress. The last evidence of her ill-fated adventure as a maid.

  Well—not the last. She had kept Jonathan’s handkerchief. There were initials embroidered in the corner, but she had not wanted to call Belinda’s attention to it. She’d tucked the kerchief, crumpled and still a bit soggy, into her reticule for later examination.

  It was not difficult to plead fatigue after luncheon, and retire to her room. She really was quite exhausted, but first…

  Sitting on her bed, Anna unfolded the square of linen. It was hemmed precisely, and in one corner, worked in green silk, were the letters J.A. Jonathan what? She didn’t even know his last name. Abercrombie? Aiken? Who had embroidered those well-stitched initials? A sister? A wife?

  No. Not a wife. She lay back against the pillows, weaving the kerchief between her fingers. Jonathan was not like Giles. Despite having been very mistaken in her judgments recently, she felt the truth in this. There was a quiet integrity about Jonathan. If he were married, she was quite certain he wouldn’t go about kissing other ladies. Or comforting them, or escorting them wherever they needed to go.

  A breath, not quite a sob, escaped her lips. She brought the kerchief to her nose, but there was no trace of his scent.

  Perhaps… mightn’t she don her maid’s clothing and go return his kerchief? The thought lodged itself under her ribs, painful and exciting all at once.

  Then the weight of wisdom settled down on her. Returning to the Wildering’s estate and seeing Jonathan again, however briefly, was a terrible idea. There was nothing to be gained by it but more heartache.

  She slipped the handkerchief under her pillow. It could lend sweetness to her dreams, but that was all.

  A week after her arrival, Caswell Manor hummed with excitement. The country ball was to be held that evening. The Caswells were, as usual, very generous. They had invited all the local gentry, even the minor squires.

  Belinda was elated—but then, she was always one to enjoy a party. As Anna herself had been, until lately.

  “Oh, Anna,” her friend said, “we’ll have so much fun tonight! It’s nothing like the grand London events, but that’s part of what makes it so amusing. We can drink champagne instead of over-sweetened lemonade, and dance with whomever we please. And the conversation…” She fell back, laughing, on her bed.

  Anna waited patiently for her friend to catch her breath. “The conversation?”

  “Last year, the vicar and Squire Brown, one of the local farmers, got into a heated discussion about different kinds of fertilizers. You could hear them shouting about manures, even over the music. Oh, and there was the time Miss Landry smuggled her pet pig into the ball, and it got loose during the dancing. Some of the ladies squealed as loudly as the pig!”

  “Oh, my.” Anna joined in her friend’s laughter. She had not laughed in too long—it felt like a bubble of air had formed in her chest and was finally escaping. “Then I am eagerly awaiting the evening’s festivities.”

  “Which ball-gown are you going to wear?” Belinda sat up. “The green silk is very becoming on you—and I have just the ornament for your hair.”

  “Is it a pig?”

  “Yes, a very small one.” Belinda laughed and shook her head. “I’m so pleased to see you out of your melancholy, Anna. Tonight will be splendid. I promise.”

  That promise had yet to prove true, however.

  Anna stood with Belinda as the Caswells received their guests. It was not as tedious as the usual receiving lines, though, especially with Belinda poking her in the ribs and telling her to watch for smuggled-in livestock.

  “Mr. Giles Wildering, Mrs. Wildering,” the butler announced.

  Cold squeezed Anna’s chest. Oh, no! Had she considered it, she would have realized that of course Giles and his mother would be in attendance. She shot Belinda a panicked look, but her friend only gave her a reassuring smile.

  If only she could creep back behind one of the potted palms in the hallway… too late. Belinda’s mother was greeting Giles. In a moment she would turn and present their houseguest. There was no escape. Anna pasted a smile across her face, and prayed he would not suddenly recognize her.

  “Miss Harcourt.” Giles bowed over her gloved hand.

  When he looked up, his charming smile faltered for a moment. Anna contrived her haughtiest expression.

  “Mr. Wildering,” she said, keeping her voice cool and even, with no hint of their past history. “A pleasure to see you again.”

  “Ah, yes.” His smile was firmly back in place. “I recall our lovely interlude in the Benning’s rose arbor. Perhaps you will take a stroll about the gardens with me, this evening?”

  “Perhaps.” Never.

  “If you grac
e me with your company, it will be the highlight of the ball.” He pitched his voice for her ears alone. “I’ve missed you dreadfully.”

  He pressed her fingers between his own, and it was all Anna could do not to snatch her hand away. What a rogue. She could not imagine how she had been so blind.

  “Come along, Giles,” his mother said, taking his arm. “I believe I see the Earl of Blakely. His niece is a lovely girl, if you recall.”

  With a final, burning glance at her, he let his mother tow him into the crowd. Anna wished she had something to sip, to wash the taste of his presence from her mouth.

  “I hear the music beginning,” Belinda’s mother said. “Why don’t you girls go enjoy the dancing? Almost all our guests have arrived—you needn’t keep us company here any longer.”

  “Thank you, Mama.” Belinda dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “I think Anna is in need of refreshment.”

  Her father gave them a stern look, though there was a twinkle in his eye. “Mind the champagne, Belinda. I don’t want to find you sitting in the hall again, giggling to no one.”

  “Don’t fret,” Belinda said. “I have Anna to giggle with this year.” She grinned at her parents, then linked arms with Anna and led her away.

  “I can’t believe the Wilderings are here,” Anna said. “Now I’ll have to avoid Giles for the entire evening.”

  “And he still never recognized you.” Belinda shook her head. “Come, let’s get some champagne and tell secrets. Surely you have a secret or two. Don’t dissemble. I can see it in your face, Anna.”

  There were things she could never share with Belinda. Luckily, there were a few tidbits she had discovered in her short tenure as a maid.

  Anna leaned close to her friend. “Giles Wildering’s coats are all padded at the shoulders. He’s really rather small of stature.” She had her suspicions about his breeches as well.

  “Never say so!” Belinda tipped her eyes up to the ceiling. “He’s nothing but lies, isn’t he?”