Page 55 of A Cinderella to Redeem the Earl
It was true. There were some mornings after a party when it was hard to make herself rise and get on with her day. ‘Well...’
‘There is a chamber in the west wing of the house you could use. It is in pretty good shape. Your scullery maid can make it up and the London staff will add it to their bedmaking duties.’
The west wing was on the other side of the house to the rooms their guests used. It was the wing where he and Monsieur Phillippe slept.
Cooking first thing and then spending the evening tending to their guests was tiring, especially since they continued their work far into the early hours after everyone left. She glanced up at him. There was only concern in his expression. Concern for her. It warmed her. She had the urge to hug him for being so thoughtful.
‘You are right. It is tiring. Very well, let us hire a cook to replace me, if you think it is not too expensive.’
‘Not too expensive at all since we can’t have you looking haggard when our guests come, can we?’
‘What will the other girls think?’
‘It is not their business to think anything.’ His voice was harsh. ‘Besides, they are fully aware that you hold quite a different position in the household than you did when you first arrived.’
‘Hiring another full-time servant to work for what is really only three days a week seems unnecessarily expensive. I can continue to look after the stocking of the pantry and so on. Why don’t I hire someone from the village to come and cook on those evenings when the staff need feeding?’
He chuckled. ‘Always so careful with our money. But, yes, if you think that would work, I agree.’
They had reached the door to her chamber. She turned to face him. ‘Thank you for being so thoughtful.’
A faintly guilty look passed across his face. ‘I don’t deserve your thanks. It is more about what is good for our endeavour.’
He would never admit to being kind. He was the same when he was kind to the staff. He always brushed off any thanks.
Without thought, she rose up on her toes, put her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you all the same.’
In a second, his arms were about her waist. He pulled her close and covered her mouth with his in a deliciously gentle kiss.
His breathing was harsh in her ears, his arms strong around her back, but tender, holding her as if she was some sort of delicate flower.
She felt womanly and feminine.
She leaned into him, kissing him back, opening her mouth as their tongues tangled in a dance of passion. Heavenly, heavenly kisses. Her heart beat far too fast and she fell into the dizzyingly lovely melding of mouths and felt the hardness of his body pressed against hers.
It was all too brief.
He broke away, gazing down at her. His gaze was hot, but also stormy, as if he were angry. His shoulders were rigid.
Had her unbridled desire caused her to ruin things between them? ‘I am sorry,’ she whispered breathlessly. ‘I should not have...’
He gave a short sharp bow. ‘You are right. It was ill done of me.’
‘Oh, no. I did not... I mean...’ Why on earth was she stuttering and stammering as if her tongue was too large for her mouth? Perhaps because her heart was still hammering in her chest.
‘I will be driving up to London in the morning, please hire the cook as we discussed. Also have a woman from the village come and make up your new quarters while I am gone.’
‘Oh.’ Disappointment slowed everything to a crawl. ‘When will you return?’
‘In time for the next party, as usual.’ His tone was frigid, almost arctic, as if he resented her questioning him. It wasn’t as usual. He often stayed a few days after each party, having dinner with her each evening. It seemed that her kiss, her unwanted kiss, had ruined everything.
He reached around her and opened her door. ‘I had forgotten how small this room was. Barely space enough to swing a cat.’
‘I have been allocated worse,’ she blurted. ‘I find it cosy.’ It was private, which was always a luxury when you were a servant.
His gaze hardened. ‘I bid you goodnight, Pamela.’
He bowed and stalked away.
