The Housemaid's Scandalous Secret (20 page)

Moments later, Ross swept his hand along her thigh as she pressed alongside him and nestled her head within the crook of his arm. ‘You are very lovely,’ he murmured, dragging his gaze away from her shapely legs long enough to give her a smile. ‘Truly, my love, I’ve never seen the equal of your perfection.’

Returning his smile, Lisette ran her fingers through the fascinating feathering of dark hair covering his chest. ‘You are far from imperfect yourself, Colonel.’

Frowning, Ross tipped her face up to his. ‘Ross. My name is Ross, Lisette. Considering our long acquaintance—not to mention what has just transpired between us—I find it ridiculous that you call me “Colonel.”’

‘Very well. Ross it is—but only when we are alone.’

His gaze did a slow admiring sweep of her body stretched out alongside his. ‘I want to see you again. When I can—when you can. No one need know. It could be here—or somewhere else.’

‘But people would talk. It wouldn’t be good, for me or you.’

‘Who has to know?’ he replied, and Lisette could see gentle laughter in his eyes. ‘It will be good to fade into the background from time to time. You didn’t mean this to happen,’ he went on, and his voice was stronger, deeper, more persuasive with every word. ‘But we couldn’t help it. We’re two of a kind. We recognised it in each other. I’m glad.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Has anyone ever told you how utterly beautiful you are without your clothes?’

With her hair streaming loose and a shamefaced smile, she pressed her brow against his lean cheek, saying, in a breathless pretence at reproach that was nothing of the kind, ‘Only you. You really are the most sinful man I can imagine.’

As he kissed the top of her head, he answered, ‘And you the wildest woman I know—so, a good match.’

With a deep sigh of contentment Lisette settled against him. ‘I suppose we should be getting back.’

Ross’s arm tightened about her. ‘We will—but not just yet.’

At the insistent urging of his knee, she lifted a slender limb and laid it over his hip, allowing his thigh to encroach between hers. Somewhat in awe of her handsome lover, she admired the steely bulges of his shoulders and the taut ribs, the manly nipples. She began to brush kisses over the ridges and hollows. Ross watched her, amazed by her gentle passion.

When she curled into his side, he tried to come to grips with reality. With his arm holding her close, he couldn’t explain what had happened to him. All he knew was that no other woman had ever been like this. He was the first man she had known and he knew it and triumphed in it. It therefore came as no surprise to discover, as his sated senses cleared, that he was once again possessed of an urgent desire.

His need evident to Lisette, she sighed and stretched, lifting her arms above her head, deliberately displaying her proud breasts for his hands to cup, and it began again, this time slowly, lingeringly, exploring each other’s bodies, kissing and smiling until he lay over her, plunging into her again and again until she wept with rapture and great joy of what he did to her and he groaned as though he were in agony.

Clearly, with his skill as a lover, he could take her to the heights of desire. He devoured her and she knew that nothing would ever be the same again. She felt beautiful, feminine and absurdly happy at this moment. How delightful that coupling with a man could do that to a woman. It was an extraordinary thing, she thought as she went falling into a white-hot haven of pure sensation, until he pushed her over the edge of oblivion.

As they began to replace their clothes, the late-afternoon sun had moved round in the sky and the light in the barn was dusky but they were reluctant to leave this moment, this time, this wonderful thing they had discovered together.

Ross had made love to many women but had loved none of them. He knew the difference now and the ecstasy he had just experienced with Lisette was an awakening for him. He’d thought he knew it all and he hadn’t—until now.

He wanted her—in his bed and in his life. There was no doubt of that fact, no room for manoeuvre or negotiation. Her loveliness had flowered and blossomed in his arms, and his masculine desire for her was intense. He had the kind of feelings for her that a man can only feel for one special woman, though what the hell he was to do about it he didn’t know and at this precise moment he didn’t give a damn. She was his, she belonged to him—he could tell it by the expression in her eyes, by her lack of surprise when he’d appeared.

* * *

Lisette was well aware of the startled looks they drew as the group of keepers and one red-haired female on the other side of the lake took note of them together, Ross leading the two horses by the reins.

‘I anticipated this. It is exactly what I hoped to avoid,’ she told him. ‘I had reservations about agreeing to walk back with you and shouldn’t have agreed to it—and to make matters worse I believe that is Nancy Cooper, one of the kitchen maids, talking to them.’

Ross was not unaware of the curiosity that rippled among the keepers as they walked side by side, and he could only imagine how the rumour mill would soon churn. He was an old hand at dabbling in scandal and as a rule he always ignored it, but if their affair was made known it would be too distressing, too upsetting, for her to withstand.

‘Forgive me, Lisette. I should have paused to consider the possible repercussions that would occur if we were seen. I should have let you walk back alone.’

‘It’s too late now. Nancy Cooper has ears as big as a rabbit and through practice she can move from a keyhole with the lightning speed of a weasel. Be assured, before the day is over the whole of Castonbury Park will know we have been together.’

‘I sincerely hope that will not be the case. I prefer to keep what is between us private for the time being.’

There was something in his voice that bemused and unsettled Lisette. In the time it took them to reach a place hidden from prying eyes, she had time to think about it, to dwell on the consequences of what she had done, to the realisation that a man who has marriage on his mind will speak of it. Ross Montague had not and she marvelled at her own naivety in believing that he would. She flushed hotly when she recalled how she had sighed and melted and moaned in his arms, and though she did not deny that she loved him and always would, she should not have allowed him so much liberty.

Slowing her steps until she had stopped altogether, she turned and looked at him. ‘“For the time being,” Ross? And what then? You are soon to leave Castonbury. Until that time what are we to do? Do you intend taking me whenever you fancy—expect me to lie down for you for an hour’s pleasure? Is that why you followed me—trapped me up there on the hill?’

‘Trapped you!’ A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes. ‘You were as willing as I was and don’t deny it. What is it you want, Lisette?’

Shaking her head she turned away. ‘Nothing, Ross. I don’t want anything from you that you are not prepared to give willingly.’ It was a bitter pill to know that though he was able to marry her, for nothing but his family stood in his way at this present time, he would not. He had decided that this was how it would be. Had she really thought he would marry her? Had she really been that naive and stupid in thinking that he loved her enough to make her his wife?

Ross stared at her, trying to comprehend her thoughts. Did she expect him to marry her, was that it? It was a measure of the deep feelings he carried in his heart for her that he had already begun to consider the idea of making her his wife. She had become a necessity in his life, like food and water, but at this time it would be socially impractical to bring it about.

She was lovely and gracious, and in fashionable gowns she would hold her own in any society, but until Araminta’s wedding was over and because the Montagues were on tenterhooks awaiting communication from Harry with news of Jamie, he would prefer not to add to the family’s worries by announcing his affair with his sister’s maid.

Reaching out he cupped her chin with his hand which moved on and gently caressed her warm cheek. ‘Be patient, Lisette. I am trying to avert scandal—goodness knows the Montagues have had their fair share in the past and this is not the time to create another.’ He thought he saw a sheen of disappointed tears in her wide amber eyes. She was badly hurt, he knew it, but at present there was nothing else to be done.

Feeling the tide of pain rise in her, Lisette stood for a moment. If he was indeed the man of courage she believed him to be, he would have been prepared to fly in the face of prejudice and hypocrisy his family and his social equals would have turned on him. But he was not prepared to do that and the realisation was overwhelming and hurt her deeply. Her heart was in shreds as the battle for common sense and her love for him fought tooth and nail for dominance. Managing to claw back some of the self-esteem he had stolen from her, she knew what she had to do. She would not beg him to marry her and it was some measure of her strength that her pride came to the fore.

‘You are quite right not to want a scandal at this time,’ she said, drawing herself up straight and calmly meeting his piercingly blue gaze. ‘If our affair—or whatever you care to call it—should become known, it would certainly create one. It would alter my relationship with my employers and they will look at me with different eyes. I will be considered to be getting above my station, which, after all, is the lowest it could be.’

His eyes passed lovingly over her face and a smile curved his lips. ‘An adorable servant, Lisette.’

She smiled a bitter smile. Not adorable enough, it would seem, she thought. ‘It is in my best interests that it is kept between ourselves—as well as your own,’ she added as if it were an afterthought and his concern for his own well-being not on the same level of importance as her own.

‘I’m glad you understand. For the time being I believe it is the most sensible course to take. Get used to the idea, to the knowledge that you are very special to me, that I will make a decent life for us both, that I will take care of you and that you have nothing to fear. What we feel for each other is quite unique, that is evident, and all it needs is time—and we have plenty of that.’ Lisette looked at him, wanting to sink against him, to be held to his chest in strong arms which would tell her he loved her. To sigh and melt and feel again that languorous magic drift through her...

‘Yes, you’re right, of course.’

When they parted, walking back to the house she gave herself up to her thoughts. Had she been seduced, beyond recall, not by Ross but by
her
desire for him? She knew in the depths of her heart that it was a most pertinent distinction. This desire was of the kind that had trapped women since time began into loveless unions. She had every reason to distrust the emotion, to avoid it, to reject it.

But she could not—perhaps before today, but now this rogue emotion was too strong, too compulsively within her, for her ever to be free of it. But this in itself brought no sadness, no pain, and indeed if the act itself could illicit such power and joy, such boundless excitement, such pleasure that she was addicted to it, then given the choice she would have the experience rather than live the rest of her life without it.

Having made her decision she was aware of a kind of peace stealing over her. But like a dark cloud coming over the sun, she knew this small sense of peace and happiness she had felt so briefly in Ross’s arms could not continue—not in the face of what was real.

* * *

Ross began visiting Araminta’s room more often. He began to waylay Lisette whenever he could. Sometimes when she was going to and from the kitchen he would stop her for no reason at all other than to hear her voice. Having stressed his desire for secrecy, Lisette could not believe how he flirted with danger and ran the risk of being caught dallying with a servant girl in a house that bred scandal.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms wordlessly about her. On turning, her heart almost stopped when she saw his lazy, dazzling white smile that swept slowly across his handsome face, and the way his vivid blue eyes crinkled at the corners. He kissed her softly, gently, his lips travelling across her face to the corners of her eyes, smoothing her cheek, before releasing her and allowing her to go on her way.

But this happy state of affairs could not last. With sly hints and insinuations from Nancy Cooper, gradually the other servants began to take notice of the attention Ross paid her, and not only to notice but to disapprove. Some accepted the situation they suspected existed between the colonel and one of their own—after all, there was nothing new in one of their lordships having an eye for a pretty maid as long as they were discreet about the liaison. But some of the more strait-laced were horrified that a servant should be guilty of such an atrocious error of judgement, a wicked deviation from the accepted code of conduct, and to be allowed to get away with it.

Her fears that Nancy Cooper had done her worst were realised when Mrs Stratton summoned her into her sitting room early one evening before dinner. Mrs Stratton’s sitting room was a comfortable room with a good fire in the grate. There were deep, comfortable armchairs on either side and a table on which stood a white china teapot with cups and saucers to match. Lisette liked this room. It was so warm and welcoming as a rule, but not today. Mrs Stratton, who always treated her kindly, was seated at the table, and by her blank expression and cool manner, it was clear she had something to say. She did not invite Lisette to sit down.

‘Is anything wrong, Mrs Stratton?’

‘It depends how you define the word
wrong
, Miss Napier. I felt I had to speak to you. It has been brought to my attention that you and Colonel Montague share a...relationship.’

Lisette suppressed a bitter smile. ‘I see Nancy has already given you her version.’

‘I abhor gossip and I will not have it in the servants’ hall.’

‘It is a rumour, Mrs Stratton, no more,’ Lisette said, hating the falsehood but she could hardly tell the housekeeper the truth. But how could she look Mrs Stratton in the eye after this lie?