Authors: Anthea Lawson
Blinking back hot tears, she watched as the two men turned the corner and were gone. Giles had not seen her. He had not for an instant looked up, despite the intensity of her gaze upon him.
She retreated back into the pantry and dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her apron. Giles was mad for horses, she knew it from their second conversation. Clearly his mind had been elsewhere just now. Why, he likely wouldn’t have noticed
anyone
, he’d been so engrossed in speaking with the groom.
It was good for a person to have a variety of interests. Indeed, Anna herself was quite fond of riding. Once she and Giles were married, they would have a lovely time discussing horses, she was certain of it. Perhaps they would select a matched pair to ride. Grays. Or no, chestnuts, with lovely dark manes and tails. How handsome they would look together…
“I believe that spoon is quite polished enough.” Mrs. Foutch’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Finish up here, and then you’re needed to help serve tea. Speak with Cook, directly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, but the housekeeper was already bustling away.
Anna took a few moments to tidy up in the servant’s area of the kitchen. She washed her hands, tucked a stray brown curl back under her cap, then presented herself to Cook.
“Have ye a steady hand?” The woman held out a tray piled high with delicacies.
“I do,” Anna said, trying not to eye the sandwiches and cakes. Her stomach gave an unfortunate growl.
“Follow Martha here up to the mistress’s rooms,” Cook said, nodding to the red-haired maid, who was standing beside her. “And take care on the stairs.”
Anna lifted the tray and gave Martha a bright smile. “Shall we?”
The other girl scowled, then took up a second tray holding the teapot and cups and turned her back on Anna. Unfriendly indeed—but it was just as well. They had no hope of ever becoming friends, after all. What a shock Martha would have when Anna’s engagement to Giles was announced. The servant would become the mistress, much to everyone’s surprise. She felt a secret smile cross her face at the thought.
The servant’s stairs were narrow and steep, and Anna heeded Cook’s advice. She was glad not to be carrying up the teapot. It wouldn’t do to arrive in Mrs. Wildering’s parlor with a puddle of tea sloshing about on the tray. Although, truth be told, she’d rather not arrive in Mrs. Wildering’s parlor at all.
Anna had been introduced to Giles’s mother once, although it had been last Season. Still, if Mrs. Wildering recognized her, this charade would be up entirely. Fear beat through her, and her forehead felt clammy.
“Hurry it up!” Martha called. “If the tea’s cold, it’s your fault.” She stood at the narrow door to the second floor, holding it open with one hip.
While Anna was still several feet away, the other maid stepped out into the hall and let the door swing closed. Clutching her tray, Anna ran up the last few steps in order to keep it from shutting in her face.
The carpet was thick under her feet as she followed Martha down the hall to Mrs. Wildering’s suite. Anna lagged behind until Martha scowled and tipped her head impatiently at the door. With a deep breath, she followed the other maid inside, trying to keep Martha as a shield between herself and the women seated in the small parlor.
Luckily, Mrs. Wildering paid them no notice as the tea was brought in. She was entertaining visitors—another older woman, and a mousey-looking young lady whom Anna guessed to be about her own age. Thank goodness the guests were strangers to her. The ladies conversed, ignoring the maids as they set their trays down and readied the tea.
“Of course,” the visiting matron said in a confiding tone, “you cannot discount my own Eugenia here. She is possessed of many excellent virtues.”
The young lady bit her lip and stared down at the floor, as though she wished she could disappear through it. She did not have the advantage of a maid’s cap, which Anna had tugged down so it nearly covered her eyes.
“Hm.” Mrs. Wildering tapped her cheek with one finger. “The Earl of Blakely’s niece is also invited. By all accounts, she is a lovely girl.”
“But hardly the same as a viscount’s
daughter
.” The guest sniffed, while her unfortunate daughter remained silent.
“Would you care for a cup of tea?” Mrs. Wildering turned, and there was Martha, presenting the teapot as though she had known the very moment the mistress would be asking for it.
Anna made sure the plates of delicacies were in no danger of tipping, then slid the tray onto the low table in front of the ladies. None of them even glanced her way.
Heavens, was she so oblivious to her own staff? Although she was grateful to be invisible, it was rather unsettling. She hovered behind the chairs for a moment. Should she stay? Was her presence needed beyond the simple act of carrying up a tray of food, or by leaving would she draw undue attention to herself? She wanted more than anything to be gone from the room.
Martha finished setting out three cups and saucers for Mrs. Wildering, then caught Anna’s eye. She nodded to the doorway, and silently the two of them left the mistress’s suite. Anna quietly shut the parlor door and turned—only to collide with a gentleman striding down the hall.
“Oh!” she exclaimed.
She looked up, past the finely-embroidered waistcoat and perfectly knotted cravat, to meet a pair of bright blue eyes. Giddy joy galloped through her.
At last. Face-to-face with Giles Wildering. Surely that spark in his eyes was pleased recognition. Anna gazed into his face, and felt as though she could stand there all afternoon, simply looking at him.
“Beg pardon, sir,” Martha said, taking her by the elbow and yanking her back.
Ah, yes—the servants always stayed to the edges of the halls. She had forgotten.
“Well, well,” Giles said, a smile spreading across his handsome features. “And who have we here?”
“The new maid,” Martha said. Her expression was sour. “Do excuse us, sir.”
“Wait.” He took Anna by the arm. “And what is your name, new maid?”
Didn’t he know? Confusion fluttered in her chest for a moment, until the answer came clear. Of course he recognized her—but thought she might be here under an assumed name. How clever of him not to blurt it out.
“Anna, sir.” She gave him a complicit smile, and the expression in his eyes deepened.
“Excellent.” He moved his thumb up and down her arm—a small caress. A signal that he understood her deception, and her reasons for it.
Martha made a small humming noise. “Really, sir, we must be going.”
“Certainly. Carry on.” He let go of Anna’s arm, but the warmth of his smile was like a hundred candles burning inside her.
As Martha hauled her down the hall, Anna couldn’t help glancing back over her shoulder. Giles was watching her. The look on his face made her shiver with delight.
Oh, she had been so right to come here. The reward was worth every difficulty.
The next morning, Martha shook Anna awake before dawn. “Up with you—time to work,” she said, her tallow candle casting eerie shadows on the attic walls.
Anna tried not to groan aloud. Her arms and shoulders ached, and all she wanted to do was roll back over and bury her head in her pillow. Only the thought of Giles gave her the will to rise.
After a hurried breakfast of old bread and porridge, Anna was set to work cleaning the grates and hearths. It was sooty, hard work—and best if one breathed shallowly. She had finished with the blue parlor and was nearly done in the drawing room when Martha found her.
“Come,” the other maid said, sounding most displeased. “You’ve a new duty.”
Anna wiped her hands on her apron and stood. “What is it?”
Martha gave no answer, only turned and led the way down the opulently decorated hall to the servant’s door, cleverly disguised to look like just another mahogany panel. One wouldn’t want the maids’ comings and goings to be noticeable now, would one? Anna shook her head.
They exited the narrow stairwell on the third floor of the mansion, where the family’s bedrooms were, and Martha stalked down the hall until she reached a large door.
“Here,” she said.
“Here, what?”
The other maid scowled. “Master Giles’s bedchamber. You’re to go in and stir up the fire, make the chamber ready. But take care not to wake him.”
“
I’m
to do that?” Anna lifted one hand to her chest and felt the eager thumping of her heart.
Giles was so clever, arranging it so that they could meet privately. No doubt he was only feigning sleep, waiting for her to arrive.
“And don’t take too long about it, either.” Martha’s lips pressed together in a most unbecoming manner. “I ought to be the one going in there, mind you.”
“Why aren’t you?” But she knew the answer.
“Because,” the other maid spit out, “he asked for
you
.”
With that, Martha turned on her heel and stormed off. Really, such a sour disposition would not serve the girl well. She ought to take some honey with her daily meals. Although… were servants permitted honey? Thus far, Anna had only been given treacle to sweeten her morning porridge.
But enough thinking about the disagreeable Martha. She had far more important matters to attend to. Giles had asked for her. The knowledge spread warmly through her entire body. Smiling, Anna opened the door.
It was dim in his bedroom. The heavy drapes shut out the mid-morning sun, though there was enough light to see the large bed in the center of the room. A figure lay there, sprawled in sleep. Truly, was he still asleep? She crept closer, until she could make out his features. Dear, handsome Giles. His eyes were closed, his dark hair tousled. Beneath the bed-linens, his chest rose in the deep and regular breath of dreaming.
She swallowed her disappointment. Should she wake him? Yet Martha had cautioned her against that very thing. How vexing. She stood a moment, glancing about the room. The air was a bit cool, and held a faint musky odor. She had never realized how a few coals took the edge of the night’s chill from a room. Very well—she would begin by poking up the fire. Loudly.
He stirred, and joy jolted through her. He was waking!
“Are you there?” Giles’s voice was blurry with sleep.
“Yes. Yes, I am.” She laid the poker down and hurried to the end of the bed.
He blinked at her, then smiled, slow and lazy. “Anna the maid. You are a pretty one.”
He had called her beautiful before—but pretty was satisfactory. More than satisfactory, truly. And did it matter the exact words? It was enough that he found her appearance pleasing.
“Thank you, sir.” She could not bring herself to call him Giles. It suddenly seemed too forward.
As was being in his bedroom, alone—but that was the price she would pay for love.
“Open the curtains,” he said, “then come closer, so I may see you properly.”
Anna hurried to pull the drapes wide, and warm light spilled into the room. She turned, catching her breath once again at how perfect Giles’s features were, how blue his eyes. He caught her gaze, and beckoned.
“So, Anna. I expect you to take your new duties seriously,” he said.
She gave him a tentative smile. Clearly he was amused by her disguise as a maid. She supposed she could indulge him.
“What would those duties be?” she asked.
He propped himself on his elbows. The sheet slid down to reveal his naked chest, and she felt heat flame into her cheeks.
“For a man like myself, a proper beginning to the day might begin with… a kiss.”
She placed a hand over her mouth. How reckless he was! “Why sir—that strikes me as most
im
proper.”
“All the better.” His eyes held a wicked spark. “Come here, Anna, and let me steal a kiss.”
Her pulse was beating madly. Slowly, she moved to stand beside him at the edge of the bed. He sat up, paying no heed to his state of undress, and took her by the shoulders. Then, between one breath and the next, his lips were upon hers. Heat flashed through her, and a heady rush of satisfaction. Giles was kissing her.
This kiss, however, was quite different from the one they had shared beneath the rose arbor. He pulled her against him, and her hands came to rest on his naked shoulders. How delicious, how forbidden, his warm skin felt beneath her palms.
But even more scandalous was the movement of his tongue, sweeping insistently across her mouth. She pursed her lips and pressed them more fervently against his.
With a bark of laughter, he broke the kiss. “I see you have much to learn—and I’ll gladly teach you.” His gaze moved to the ornate clock on the mantel and he frowned. “I fear it’s too late, today, however. My valet will be arriving shortly. You’d best be on your way.”
She had disappointed him. Regret rushed through her as she stepped away from the bed and straightened her cap.
“I’m sorry.” She could not conceal the tremble in her voice.
“Don’t fret, maid Anna. Simply come earlier tomorrow, and open the curtains as soon as you arrive. Then I’ll show you how to rouse me most satisfactorily.”
Happiness pushed the last of the worry from her mind. He was not truly sending her away—he cared for her still. “Of course I shall! It will be my pleasure.”