Page 36 of The Confessions of a Lady
What she needed was a warm bath and a hot meal. But servants weren’t afforded such luxuries. He couldn’t very well haul her up to his room, have her fellow maids and footmen bring water up for a bath, then plunk her into the water while the rest of the house descended into chaos at such a breach of hierarchy. Though, the idea of a wet, warm, naked Miss Smith in his bath had his cock twitching as the fire in his belly grew hotter.
He shut down the fantasy with brutal control and refocused on her ankle. ‘You’re right. It isn’t broken, but you’ll need to stay off your feet while this heals, Miss Smith. At least a week, possibly longer.’
She shook her head so violently, he worried she might fall off the seat. ‘No. I’ll be right as rain in the morning, my lord. I swear it. I can’t take time off. I need my wages, and Mrs Harding wouldn’t stand for me lazing about.’
‘You’re hardly lazing about with a sprained ankle. Mrs Harding will do exactly as she’s told.’
A tear tracked down Penny’s cheek, catching in the cut. ‘You don’t understand, my lord. It wouldn’t be fair for the others. Even if you did order it, they would hold grudges. Someone would have to take over for me and there would be hard feelings. Servants don’t take time off to heal. We do that while we work.’
The sight of Miss Smith falling apart over being told she couldn’t work rocked Liam. She had just faced off against two brutes without so much as a hint of hysteria – something which he still needed to ask her about – but when told she would need to take time off work to heal, she became a watering pot. It made no sense.
Because my livelihood would never be at risk if I took time to convalesce. A truth which does not apply to Miss Smith.
The chasm separating Liam from Penny could not be more obvious, and he was a bastard for not recognising the inequity sooner.
‘I will speak with Mrs Harding, my lord. I can ask her to give me lighter duties until my ankle is feeling better, but sprains always look worse than they really are. See?’ She rotated her ankle, her face locked into a neutral mask even as her eyes flashed with what had to be controlled pain. ‘Barely a twinge. I shall be perfectly fine in the morning. I know it.’
Liam held her foot still, squeezing gently. ‘Let us get you back, ice and bandage your ankle, and we shall see how you are faring tomorrow.’
Penny pressed her lips together in a firm line. It was an expression Liam was becoming familiar with and indicated she was about to say something no maid would ever dare utter to her employer. His heart flared with something warm and troubling as anticipation sparked in his blood. He couldn’t wait to hear the tart honesty she would doubtless impart.
‘I believe I know better than you how my ankle feels, my lord. If I say it is fine, then it is fine. I don’t need you to determine what I am capable of doing with my own limbs.’
God, I love to battle with her.
‘Just the thought of what you could do with these limbs has me nearly speechless.’
She ground her teeth together. ‘That is not what I meant.’
He continued talking. ‘Thankfully, I’m not speechless as I have an important question for you. Since we are discussing what you can and can’t do with your apparently uninjured body, exactly how did you manage to fight off two much larger, much stronger men? And did one of them end up with a hat pin in his neck? Ingenious use of accessories, Miss Smith.’
Penny narrowed her eyes. ‘Yes. He did. And if I had another pin, it would have been lodged in the tall bastard’s throat.’
‘The gentleman missing teeth and sporting a broken nose?’ Liam raised his brow.
Penny crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Yes. That one. Who knows where a third pin might find itself imbedded. A thigh, perchance? Or a certain marquess’ hand.’
‘Miss Smith, are you ogling my thigh?’
Liam couldn’t stop his smile as Penny rolled her eyes and made a disgusted tsking sound.
His fingers twitched against her delicate ankle. ‘For a domestic, you display some unique skills. I’m guessing you didn’t learn how to fight while polishing desks or laundering bed sheets.’
Penny bit her cheek and lifted her gaze just over Liam’s right shoulder. ‘I didn’t grow up in a very safe place. Ladies in your sphere learn how to read. Play the pianoforte. Needlepoint. I learned how to survive. And I won’t let you shame me for that.’
The warmth in his chest spread outward, dissipating as something sharp and fragile broke within him. Imagining Penny as a defenceless young girl, being forced to fight for her survival, was impossible. What horrors had she seen? And how could he vanquish the bastards putting her in such an untenable situation? ‘Where were you born?’
‘Does it matter?’
He gently squeezed her ankle. ‘Yes.’
Penny hissed out a breath. ‘St Giles, my lord. Trust me, these dangerous streets are more familiar to me than any ballroom is to you.’
‘I would never shame you for where you were born. For what you had to do to survive, Penny. Not for the world.’ Though he had fantasised about it with frequency, this was the first time he spoke her name aloud. It felt right.
Penny’s eyes widened. For an endless moment, they watched each other, his hand gently brushing over her ankle to reclaim her foot. It was such an intimate thing, to wrap her small, sturdy foot in his warm hand. He wished he could so easily wrap her body in his arms, offer her safety, sanctuary, comfort.
Liam couldn’t look away from her eyes. Such secrets swirled in her hazel gaze. What he wouldn’t give to know her darkest deeds. To hear her confessions and ease whatever pain still lingered from a life of obvious hardships. No woman should have to learn to defend herself with such violence. And yet, hewas immensely proud of Penny. What an odd feeling to carry for a woman he had known just over a week.
