Page 72 of The Lord Meets His Lady
“Butyousigned it. Your signature is right here.” Mr. Beckworth tapped her name scrawled across the bottom. “And it says your name is Genevieve Turner.”
“I know.” The writing was large, the letters ill-formed. “Please forgive me for deceiving you. I had to travel under a false name.”
Lord Bowles faced her, the harsh line of his mouth softening. “Because you had no idea what you were agreeing to.”
Her shoulders slumped at the first signs of understanding from him.
His eyes lit tenderly. “Some mark the contract with an X when they can’t read or write.”
She’d been proud to be able to write her name that day. At the time, it was all she could write. “I was a fool.”
“You’re young,” he countered. “Forgive yourself this folly.”
“Before I signed the indenture, I asked Mr. Millburn to read it for me,” she said. “I trusted him.”
“And this man, Reinhard Wolf, who you thought was helping you… What happened between you two?” he asked softly.
“At first he was never at his home,” she explained. “I met Elise Sauveterre when she fitted me for a housekeeper’s gown. We became friends, and soon, she was teaching me to read and write.”
Lord Bowles fisted a hand on his hip, his hazel eyes measuring her, pain flickering in their depths. “When did your circumstances with the Prussian change?”
Her head tilted toward his. Not circumstances, rather it was sex and the attachment Reinhard felt for her. Did Lord Bowles compare what went on between them at Pallinsburn with Reinhard’s arrangement? Murky emotions were at play in the parlor. Too many emotions. She needed to tread this conversation with care.
“Last summer. I wasn’t cleaning much of anything and doing little for his household. Then he started to bring me small gifts: a fur-trimmed cloak, pretty hairpins—”
“Which you don’t like,” he inserted.
A smile danced at the corners of her mouth. “He never talked to me like you do. It took a while before he learned that.”
Air stirred between them. Hurts and recriminations melted like wax. Men could be so funny about other men. She’d known Reinhard before she’d ever laid eyes on Lord Bowles, but Lord Bowles had to know he affected her.
“His attentions were obvious,” she said, her gaze locked on Lord Bowles.
His balled fist tightened. “And what did you do?”
The truth would hurt Lord Bowles. Better to cut quick and clean.
“He kissed me one night, and I kissed him back. He and I…we…”
Lord Bowles’s eyes were hooded. Was he thinking the same as her? Of forbidden kisses stolen with the master of the house? To an outside eye, she would be painted a wanton adventuress.
“At first I liked it,” she murmured. “I welcomed his attentions.”
The parlor was very quiet, save the drumming in her ears. The chair creaked beneath her, but not a soul spoke after her bold admission. Sex with Reinhard was more than satisfactory, but she’d not say that aloud. It would hurt Lord Bowles. She stared into the fire, determined to finish this, determined that both men would understand. Women trod life’s thorny patches more often than the stronger sex, dodging unsavory circumstances, making tough decisions they’d never face. Her character was more agile for it.
“I asked about references, but Reinhard kept putting me off. I decided to read my indenture contract and discovered I owed him seven years, not one. Mr. Millburn had deceived me. Hetradedme like common goods,” she scoffed. “For windows and a new roof at the Golden Goose.”
Lord Bowles averted his eyes, and Mr. Beckworth coughed into his balled fist. They were no different than Reinhard Wolf and Mr. Millburn.
Her laugh was short and bitter. “Don’t worry, gentlemen. You aren’t as bad as them. At least you gave me a say in your arrangement.”
Mr. Beckworth’s mouth pinched. “I-I…”
“It’s fine, sir. I showed up on your doorstep a less-than-honest woman. Elise helped me escape.” She exhaled slowly, the feel of it cleansing for the truth revealed. “She approached your aunt, and here I am.”
“What exactly was Herr Wolf planning for you?” Lord Bowles asked.
“He said when his mission here was done, we were leaving forKönigsberg. I’d live in a house and be his mistress.”
