Page 23 of An Innocent Maid for the Duke
They did not stop until they arrived at her landing. A fist thumped on her door.
‘Who is it?’ Her voice was not as firm as she would have liked.
‘It is I, Miss Nightingale.’
The cultured accents were unmistakable. Westmoor. How on earth had he found her?
‘’E says ’e’s a friends of yourn,’ the belligerent tones of her landlord added. ‘Shall I throw ’im down the stairs?’
‘I’d like to see you try, my good man.’
‘Would yer? Put ’em up, I says.’
Goodness, they were going to come to fisticuffs on her landing.
She rushed to slide the bolt and open the door.
The Duke, with nary a hair out of place, was grinning conspiratorially at her landlord. Money went from a ducal fist to a grimy grasping hand. Blast the man.
‘Miss Nightingale.’ The Duke removed his hat and bowed.
‘You tricked me.’
‘As you tricked me. May I come in?’
‘I did not trick you.’
A movement on the staircase caught her eye. Old Mrs Carter was at the forefront of a growing group of spectators. Oh, this really was too much. Her reputation was going to be ruined.
She opened the door wider. ‘Please come in.’ She certainly did not want her neighbours listening to the conversation that was about to ensue.
The Duke ducked his head beneath the lintel and entered. The ceiling was too low for him to stand fully upright. Wincing, she gestured to the only chair in the room. ‘Please, be seated.’
He eased his large frame on to the rickety chair as if fearing it would splinter beneath him and looked around.
Shame filled her.
Followed by anger.
She’d been proud of her little room. Her own place, rented with the money she’d earned. ‘What are you doing here?’
He started to rise. ‘A gentleman may not sit in the presence of a standing lady.’
They couldn’t? There was nowhere for her to sit but on the edge of the bed. She perched there and clasped her hands in her lap to stop herself from throwing something at him. Or perhaps to hold herself together from flying into a thousand miserable pieces now he knew the full extent of her poverty.
‘I came to make sure you arrived home safely.’
She stared at him. ‘I manage to arrive home safely every day without any help. What you have done is made every occupant of this house wonder about my respectability.’
He gave an impatient sigh. ‘This is not where you should be living, Rose. You deserve better.’
‘What would be better about being your mistress?’ The words were out before she thought about them. Heat scalded her cheeks. Her stomach twisted in a knot. She fixed her gaze on the patch in her carpet. ‘Please. Go. You can let Mrs Parker know I won’t be working at the V&V any longer. I have found another job.’
She clenched her hands harder and prayed she would be able to do so.
‘Rose.’ His voice sounded grim.
What now? Would he strike out? Like the first gentleman whose advances she’d refused. She’d left that position. And several more after it.
