Angel of Hawkhaven Page 4

  My trembling hand went to my mouth. I touched my tingling lips, the memory of his kiss warming inside of me.

  Hawkhaven’s smile widened. He obviously remembered it, too. “It’s all right, Bess. You may go.”

  The old woman drew herself upright with obvious reluctance, but she was not about to argue with the master of the house. She did, however, give me a look of warning as she walked past me and out the door, closing it softly behind her.

  “Come in, Ella.” Hawkhaven beckoned again to the chair. “You must be tired. London is quite a distance from here. You didn’t walk it all, did you? With nothing more than two pounds in your pocket and the hope of obtaining a position once you reached my house? That took no small amount of courage.”

  Shaking all the way to my toes, certain at any moment that he would have the local constabulary summoned, my only thought revolved around getting myself well and truly clear of Derbyshire. On foot, at night, in the fog; I would even risk the man-eating bogs. Anything to avoid prison or worse, a devastatingly irrevocable trip to Australia.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Bending quickly, I picked up my carpetbag and backed until I bumped into the door. “I-I-I’ll go.”

  He arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Are you saying you came all this way, and now have no interest in obtaining a job here… because of me?”

  He could not seriously intend to still offer me a position… could he? I paused with one hand on the door’s latch. Even knowing he was likely laying a trap for me, I glanced back at him in confusion. Why wasn’t he mentioning the watch? “You would hire me?”

  He continued to smile, waving his hand toward the waiting chair. “Let us discuss the matter.”

  I should run. Now. While I still had half a chance at getting away.

  And go where?

  He had not threatened me. Right now, nothing about him seemed even the least bit threatening.

  My stomach cramped with sickly dread, but I turned away from the door. Half certain that staying would mean prison by morning, I crept across the carpet and edged warily past him to sit in his chair. I hugged my bag to my chest like a shield.

  “So,” he seated himself on the edge of his desk across from me, his big hands folding together above his lap. “I do not have much need for a drink server here. What position in particular do you have in mind?”

  Why was he not mentioning the watch? I sat for a full minute, unable to do anything more than just blink. I could not be so fortunate that he did not know. Could I? “I—I saw your advertisement for the lady’s companion.”

  He drew back in slight surprise, his smile fading just a bit. “Have you any experience in such a field?”

  I dropped my gaze from his. All the way to Derbyshire, I had known these questions were coming and had tried to brace myself for them. It was still painful to have to answer. “Yes, my lord. I took care of my mother before she died.”

  “I apologize for stating the obvious, Ella,” he said, not unkindly. “But your mother was not a lady.”

  I dropped my eyes all the way to my lap. My fingers stroked my carpetbag, and I said not a word.

  Hawkhaven leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. His smile faded a little more. “What, may I inquire, was her difficulty?”

  “My father—” My voice caught in the back of my throat, and I had to stop, clearing it twice before I could continue. “My father killed himself when I was twelve. We lost everything we had, and the shock of it was too much for my mother. She didn’t cope very well with what we had to do to survive. When I was fifteen, she had a stroke. She couldn’t get out of bed after that.”

  His expression did not change, nor did he move. The silence between us stretched on, interspersed by the occasional pop and crackle of the logs burning in a fireplace that was larger than I was.

  “Strokes,” Hawkhaven said slowly, “can end things quickly or take a hellishly long time. Which may I ask…”

  “A long time,” I made myself reply. “A very long time, my lord.”

  He nodded. “Was there paralyzation?”

  “Partial.”

  “Delirium?”

  “She certainly was not… herself.”

  “Did she fight your care?”

  “With dismaying frequency.”

  His dark eyes bored into mine. “How long before she finally met with God?”

  “Three years.”

  “And you cared for her all that time?”

  I tried to hold his gaze, but my eyes dropped to his hands and then to my own lap. “Yes.” My heart raced; my stomach churned. Not knowing what else to do, I brushed an imaginary fleck of dust from my bag.

  Hawkhaven was silent and unmoving for so long that, eventually, my wary gaze found its way back to his. He angled his golden head, his eyes boring into mine. A slight curve of a smile had returned, tilting upwards the corner of his handsome mouth. “Ella, did you just lie to me again?”

  I could not move. The eeriness with which he seemed to know me was frightening, and the short, quick breath I sucked into my lungs burned as hot as my face as I admitted. “Yes.”

  He would have been justified in giving me the sack before he ever gave me the job. My knuckles whitened, I gripped my bag so tightly and yet all he did was stand up from the edge of the desk and come softly around to squat in front of me. Those big hands of his clasped together between his knees, he leveled that knowing smile directly up at me. “Do you remember our carriage ride?”

  I made myself nod. As if it would ever be possible to forget that night. My lips tingled all the more.

  “Do you recall what I said about lying?” he asked.

  My face burned hotter. My tongue became a trickster, tangling until I could barely answer him. “That… that it was a nau—” My chest tightened. I couldn’t say the word; I had to whisper it, “A n-naughty t-thing to do.”

  “I have a singular cure for naughtiness.” His tone dropped lower, matching the icy stone that had just dropped into the pit of my chest. My knees had turned to jelly, all but knocking together as I shivered. I could barely hold my head up to meet his burning eyes, and yet it was impossible for me to look away as he said, “You almost got a taste of it back then.”

  My bottom clenched beneath my skirts. I swear I could feel the place where his hand had branded me, burning just as hot as my face.

  Slowly, he held up his finger, his smile fixed and unwavering, as he cautioned, “Be very careful, Ella with the beautiful name. I will not permit another untruth to come between us without consequence.”

  I shivered. The very look of him did that to me; his words positively running down my spine with icy clarity.

  “Do you know how I knew you were being untruthful?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “No.”

  “If you truly did lose everything when your father died, then what did you live on while taking care of your partially-paralyzed and delusional mother? That is how I knew you were lying.” He stood up and went back to his desk. Back went his arms folding across his chest as he seated himself on the edge, his long legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. He cocked his head as he studied me, and then said, “We can’t all be filthy with money. My guess would be that you left your mother daily, with no one to care for her, while you went to work. Am I correct?”

  My guilt was a sickening knot in my belly. I could not swallow past it. I could barely keep it down. “I had no other choice. There was no one else to help us. If the position has been filled, you only have to say so and I’ll go.”

  “Filled?” he laughed with feigned cheerfulness. Now it seemed he was the one having difficulty meeting my eyes. “Yes, in fact, it has been filled. Several times in the last year alone. Last week, the position was filled by a nice, matronly woman, who has been a lady’s companion for over two decades. Her last position was with the elderly Duchess of Windover, God knows that was not an easy post by any stretch of the imagination. God knows, she should have had plenty of exp
erience dealing with… complicated ladies.”

  The position was filled. That was it; the death of my final hope. My blind shot into the swampy darkness that had given me nothing in return. No home, no money, no security of any kind. My knees wobbled weakly as I pushed myself to my feet. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  Hawkhaven laughed again, still dry, with little to no amusement in his eyes. “Sit down, Ella. I said the position was filled. Thanks to the persistent efforts of my younger sister it became vacant yet again only yesterday.”

  A bare second ago, when I thought I had no hope, my legs barely supported me. Now, knowing the position was indeed still available, it was even worse. Relief flooded me with near to swooning lightheadedness. The only thing that kept my legs under me was knowing how poor a companion I would prove should I collapse on the floor at his feet.

  “Are—” I was almost afraid to ask. “Are there other applicants?”

  His smile turned ever so minutely into a lop-sided smirk. “Not in all of England. Personally, I believe in some situations desperation can be an unbeatable substitute for training and talent. Do you think a serving girl can do the job better than everyone else I’ve tried?”

  I swallowed hard. My heart became a battering ram behind my chest. My ribs near shattered with the force of it as I tried my hand at a presumption that was, considering the enormous gap in our stations, unparalleled. “I can start now, if you’d like to try me, my lord.”

  A light of real amusement returned to his smile. “Would it insult you terribly if I said you are not at all what I would consider appropriate for the position?”

  Yes, the insult did sting, but I made myself swallow that, too. “Because you saw me serving drinks at the Duck and Dog?”

  “Because I need to be certain that you will not leave my sister the way you left your mother. You said you had no other choice in the matter, but it still concerns me. Also because you are younger than any other companion I have ever interviewed, I can only assume that your experience mirrors your age and you might not have the ability to bear everything Victoria throws at you. And lastly, because the master of the house has absolutely no business kissing his sister’s companion,” he replied. “And since I have already done it once, the temptation to repeat that delightful experience might well prove beyond my abilities to deny.”

  His gaze flicked down to my tingling lips, which only proved to make me that much more aware of them.

  “There will be no temptation,” I promised. “I will stay to my position so tightly that you won’t ever know I am here.”

  He snorted and shook his head, but then seemed to give in. “Well, I suppose beggars cannot be choosy when unexpected opportunities come a-knocking in the middle of the night. The position pays forty pounds per annum, fifteen pence of which shall be deducted for your uniform. Also, you will receive full room and board and one half-day of personal time off each week. If that is acceptable, and if you think you can survive the unpleasantness which my sister will undoubtedly hurl your way, then you may consider the position your own.”

  My response came instantly to my lips. “My lord, you will not regret your decision.”

  “No?” He arched both eyebrows. “You might regret yours. My sister is going to make your life a living hell.”

  I took presumption to unheard of levels of familiarity between servants and masters. I actually dared to smile back at him. “You forget, my lord. I have lived in hell for the last twelve years. Let your sister give me her worst. I promise you, to me it will feel like Eden in comparison.”

  His handsome mouth spread in a slow smile at my audacity. Not mocking now, only amused. “My beautiful Ella, did you even pause to consider why eight women before you—experienced companions every one—have fled this estate within days of gaining employment, or why your immediate predecessor didn’t even last out one week?”

  My relief made me careless, for I spoke without thinking. “Not all patients are easy to get on with, sir. I learned that from my mother.”

  “I love my younger sister,” he chided me gently. “Upon occasion, I have been known to be… over protective. But I have no illusions about her willingness to get along with others. Four years ago, she could walk. A carriage accident changed that and ever since… she has been… not the easiest person to get on with. I would even go so far as to say she views the challenge of running off each new nursing companion I send to her with a certain amount of glee. Her legs may not be functional, but there is nothing wrong with either her mind or her tongue. You are forewarned.”

  Pushing off the edge of his desk, the master of Hawkhaven walked past me on an air of spiced cologne that fairly dazzled my nose.

  “I like you, Ella,” he announced as he headed for the bell-pull by the fireside. “But I will afford you no special treatments. Your duties are to my sister’s comfort and well being. Some minor housekeeping in her chambers may be required, and I will expect you to address the duties of a lady’s maid towards Victoria’s personal self with diligence and care. Failure to comply with the requirements of your post will lead to disciplinary action, meted out by myself. Having been across my knee already once, I’m sure you can guess what form of discipline minor breaches in behavior might take.”

  If his intent was to kill my smile and sever the budding growth of my inappropriate familiarity with him, then he succeeded. He gestured to a tall pottery vase that stood sentry on the opposite side of the hearth, and my eyes fell upon the crooked handles of the three rattan canes that poked above the top. Very lithe, very slender, they were much too frail to have aided anyone in walking.

  My bottom cringed as I imagined their next most likely use.

  “The tools of a diligent lord’s authority,” he said, confirming my suspicions. “Peace keepers and duty enforcers every one.”

  The flesh of my tender bottom flinched; my skin there all but crawled. I swallowed hard and turned my gaze back to him.

  “You needn’t look upon me with fear, Ella. I am not an ogre, but I have found the cane to be a very good method of ensuring I never have to give the same admonishment twice. Rest assured, having spent twelve years in a boarding school brimmed to overflowing with instructors that cannot say the same, I do not rely upon it with single-minded zeal. Nor is it the only punishment I employ. Serious dereliction of your duties can and most likely will result in the immediate termination of your station.”

  Hawkhaven pulled on the bell, and though I never heard its chime, within barely a minute Bess was again at the door. His blue eyes sparkled, due as much in part to the fire he stood beside as to that dancing amusement that lurked in their smoky depths.

  He was trying to frighten me, I suddenly realized. Although the canes left me feeling as steady as a baked pudding, I could not afford to change my mind now regardless of his methods of discipline. I knew he wasn’t a monster; I had been across his knee once already, had stolen his watch, and still here I was. I would simply have to be very careful and make sure he never had cause to bring me under the swing of that awful, crooked-handled beast. “I understand.”

  “If nothing else,” he said, smiling, “you do have spunk. I like that. Bess, show Miss Rayette to her room, and then make her known to my sister.” His blue eyes danced into mine. “Welcome aboard, Ella. Your duties will begin immediately.”

  “Your meals will be taken with your mistress,” Bess told me as she pushed open a heavy door, partially hidden behind a set of stairs, one door removed from my Lady Victoria’s. “At those rare, few times that you are not with the mistress, then you must be here so you can hear her bell should she summon you.”

  I slipped past her, venturing in only so far as the bed, where I set my bag upon the end of a downy mattress that looked positively heavenly compared with the one I had left behind me in London. I felt the give with two experimental, stiff-armed bounces on the foot of the bed. No cornhusk here. This was goose down. Honest to God goose down!

  “Does it meet with your approva
l?” Bess asked, dryly.

  “Oh yes,” I could not help but declare. Other than the bed, my only other furnishings were a chest for my clothes and a small square table by the headboard, upon which was set a two-inch nub of a candle.

  “You’re to make that last,” Bess said stiffly.

  I think she might be surprised at just how far I could make a candle last. I smiled, turning in a full circle as I soaked in my surroundings. Sparse as it was, this room was without doubt the finest that I could remember ever staying in.

  When Bess began to tap her foot, I gave in to her impatience and quickly took off my coat. I took a minute to brush the dried mud from the hem of my gown and then followed the older woman down the hall to the Lady Victoria.

  Barely pausing long enough to knock, Bess pushed her way into my lady’s room without waiting for a reply. I suppose if she had tried, we would be waiting in the hall until the Second Coming before gaining her permission to enter, but I did not know that yet.

  What struck me first about my new mistress was how close in age we were. What struck me next was how much she looked like her brother. They had the same tall dignity, the same blue eyes, the same honey-golden hair, hers piled high in curls atop her head. The biggest difference in their appearances lay in her disability. She sat in a modified wheel-capped chair beside the window, a white-knit blanket tucked around her withered legs. But though I only glimpsed her face from the side, I could see how miserable she was. Miserable, angry and bitter. I don’t think she knew how to smile, that one tiny aspect making her as different from her charming brother as brooding night was from the sparkling brilliance of day.

  Though she could not have helped but hear us enter, Victoria did not so much as turn her head to acknowledge our presence. “Did I call you, Bess?”

  Barely inside the room, Bess drew herself stiffly upright. “No, miss. I have brought—”

  “I did not call you,” Lady Victoria cut in sharply. “I do not want you here. Get out of my room, you old, fat cow.”

  I stood in the doorway, stunned by the coldness of her. Bess, apparently accustomed to it, simply turned around to leave. The look she gave me clearly said I was on my own and good luck. Then she marched herself back outside and, unlike the manner she had displayed in Hawkhaven’s study, this time she shut the door quite hard behind her.