The Housemaid's Scandalous Secret (8 page)

‘But in the end I have to be realistic. I can’t see my situation changing dramatically in the foreseeable future. This is the real world. No one’s going to wave some magic wand.’

‘If one believes in magic, it could come true.’

He fell silent and beneath his gaze Lisette could feel his eyes on her as she sorted out a tangle of vividly coloured ribbons, painstakingly unravelling them and rolling each bright satin strand into a neat coil. His manner was all consideration and regard as he made a study of her person with a strange sort of intensity she could not define. She looked as she always did, so she had no illusions that he had cause to deem her worth staring at.

It was with some amusement that she raised her head and looked across at him. ‘Colonel Montague, you study me most intently—as if I were an artefact. Or maybe I have a smut on my nose? Is that it?’

Ross leaned back in his chair. His eyelids lowered as his gaze raked over her with the leisure of a well-fed wolf. ‘Your nose is perfect,’ he replied, his voice husky. If ever he had discounted the possibilities that a woman’s features could be flawless, then he was swiftly coming to the conclusion that Lisette Napier would set the standard by which all other women would have to be judged, at least in his mind. If her face wasn’t at the very least perfect, it came as close to being so as he was able to bear. Several feathery curls had escaped their confines at her temples and in front of her ears, lending a charming softness to the hairstyle. In contrast to her dark tresses, her golden skin seemed more fetching by far than other ladies. A faint rosy hue adorned her cheeks and her soft, winsomely curved lips. As for her large, silkily lashed warm amber eyes, their appeal was so strong that he had to mentally shake himself free of their spell.

‘I’m trying to read your expression,’ he remarked, giving no indication of where his thoughts had wandered. ‘And as for studying you as if you were an artefact, do not be offended. Artefacts are rare and mysterious things, intriguing and often difficult to interpret. It is not unusual that incorrect conclusions are made about them.’

Lisette’s hands tightened on the ribbons in her lap. What was he saying? she thought wildly. That he did not see her as a servant? ‘Are you saying that I am a mystery, Colonel? Because if so I assure you I have never thought of myself as either secretive or mysterious. I am no great mystery at all.’

Ross leaned forward in his chair, and looked at her as if she were of the utmost importance. ‘I know very well what you are—but I also know you are a good person. I’ve never thought otherwise, not for one single moment.’ He paused. ‘I hope my sister is not driving you too hard. Accustomed to socialising with only the best in society, she tends to treat other humans as subjects. She is only happy if she is the centre of attention, being unreasonably demanding and imperious, and she takes violently against anyone who criticises or disagrees with her.’

Lisette smiled. ‘You judge her too harshly. I have no complaints.’

He grinned. ‘And you wouldn’t tell me if you had. Your loyalty does you credit. However, I am hoping your calming influence will help keep her in line.’

‘It’s not my place to do that.’

‘Nevertheless I live in hope.’

Suddenly remembering her mistress when she heard her call from the bathing chamber, putting her work down Lisette stood up and smoothed her apron. ‘Excuse me. I must get on. I’ll tell Miss Araminta you are waiting.’

* * *

Lady Mannering’s two well-sprung travelling chaises travelled north to the splendid Castonbury Park that was the principal Montague residence. The first was occupied by Araminta and Lisette, the second filled to capacity with Ross’s baggage and all of the trunks of clothes and accessories Araminta had deemed absolutely essential for any extended visit.

Lisette enjoyed the journey through the English countryside. Watching Colonel Montague riding on ahead with Will Blackstock, she longed to be able to join him on horseback. There were times when he tethered his horse to the back of the coach and joined them inside, his long legs stretched out in the luxurious conveyance. She was conscious and more than a little uncomfortable beneath his watchful gaze.

The weather had turned pleasantly warm and he often discarded his coat. His pristine white shirt and neck cloth contrasted sharply with his black hair and dark countenance. His body, a perfect harmony of form and strength, was like a work of Grecian art and most unsettling to Lisette’s virgin heart. Each time their eyes met her heart tripped in her chest. Araminta’s artless chatter filled any silence that could have been constrained.

It was the second day of their journey. Strolling away from the inn where, after consuming her dinner, Araminta was making use of the facilities in the ladies’ room, observing Lisette stroll towards a stream that bubbled over its rocky bed to the rear of the inn, Ross smiled slowly and with a wicked glint in his eyes sauntered after her.

Ross was beginning to discover the whole tenor of his life was changing with Miss Lisette Napier in it. Constant awareness of her presence kept him in a perpetual state of delighted confusion. The stream ran through a sunlit glade. Having removed her shoes and stockings, Lisette was dangling her feet in the cool stream. Gazing at her, he was struck afresh by her loveliness. It was easy to forget she was his sister’s maid. What was difficult was controlling his physical reaction to her nearness. An exercise in fortitude, he thought grimly. His body was achingly aware of her, even though she occasionally favoured him with a distant glance from those cool amber eyes of hers.

His throat went dry as he stared at the exposed skin along the back of her neck. Her hair was fashioned into intricate twists at the nape of her neck. Tiny combs somehow held it in place, and it gleamed in the sunlight like jet. He wanted to go to her and take it down, slide his fingers through the heavy mass of it.

Becoming aware of his presence, Lisette turned and looked up at him. ‘Oh—Colonel Montague! How long have you been standing there?’

A slow, appraising smile touched his lips. ‘Long enough.’

‘Long enough for what?’

His smouldering gaze passed over her. ‘Long enough to come to the conclusion that you are worthy of a higher position than that of a servant, Miss Napier.’

Lisette’s mouth parted slightly, and she stared up at him in surprise, unconscious of the lovely vision she presented. ‘Colonel Montague, it would be most improper for you to think of me as anything else.’

‘Oh, yes, I can—and I do,’ he asserted. ‘Am I intruding?’

‘Why, no. Did you follow me?’ Lisette enquired, unsettled yet strangely thrilled by his words.

‘Do you mind?’

‘Who am I to mind? As my employer you are at liberty to seek me out whenever you please.’

He cocked a sleek questioning brow. ‘For whatever reason?’

‘No,’ she stated firmly, her beautiful eyes sparkling with mischief, ‘
within
reason.’

His mouth curved in a devilish grin and the slight breeze teased a strand of his dark hair. ‘Methinks you bait me, Miss Napier. If that is your game, then lead on. I will welcome your attention and the challenge.’

Lisette considered his words. She really did desire this man, that she could not deny, but having listened to the gossip of the other maids and being made aware of the serious repercussions should any one of them overstep the mark by forming any kind of relationship with gentlemen outside their sphere, she was afraid of the repercussions should she be found out.

‘And where do you think it would get me if I were to give you my attention? It would create difficulties I can well do without.’

He grinned roguishly. ‘It could be fun while it lasts.’

‘Fun? Your arrogance really is quite amazing, Colonel Montague.’

In what was meant to be a display of mock disdain, her eyes skimmed his powerful frame. In the warmth of the day he’d removed his jacket. His white shirt was open at the throat. But her gaze faltered as the realisation flashed through her mind that there was nothing she could see she could poke fun at. He was hard and all lean, firm muscles.

It was clear he did not recall their meeting in India, that he had dismissed it entirely. She couldn’t. When he looked at her as he was looking at her now, it made her recall aspects of that time in vivid detail—his warm, hard mouth and the feel of his hands and his body pressed against hers. It was wholly unnerving the way memories of lying alongside this magnificent man haunted her. Discomfited, she chastised herself for allowing her thoughts to suggest what her body wanted to experience again.

Unable to bear the weight of his heated regard, she withdrew her feet from the water and dabbed them dry with the hem of her skirt. Much fascinated, Ross sat on the ground, his broad shoulders propped against a tree trunk, his knee drawn up, where he rested his arms to enjoy more leisurely what had become his favourite pastime since leaving London: watching Miss Napier. She surely could not guess the depth of torture she put him through, for beneath his cool facade he burned with a consuming desire for her.

He was ever conscious of her, and whenever he saw her seated in the carriage with Araminta, she appeared trim and fragile, like a budding rose. But when he was close to her, Ross was painfully aware that though indeed she was neither very tall nor heavily rounded, she was very much a woman, and he wanted her.

Standing up, Lisette slipped her feet into her shoes, shoving her stockings into the pocket of her dress, denying him the pleasure of the sight of her slender legs by pulling them on. She watched him get to his feet. Her mouth curved into a tantalising smile as she came towards him with almost sensuous grace.

When he took her hand her heart accelerated inside her chest. What charged it more, her horror of being seen alone in his presence, or the sensation of his strong fingers holding her hand, she could not say. He drew her to him, and she let him put his arms around her. It was nice.

She felt him shudder. Anxiously she said, ‘What is it?’

He looked at her. ‘Do you realise how lovely you are, Miss Napier?’

‘Oh, no. I am quite ordinary. I have never pretended otherwise.’

‘You hide behind your modesty—although modesty is an adoring quality and you wear it well.’

He was looking at her with such intensity she became still. Her cheeks were hot. She should have looked away, but she didn’t. She went on staring back, with the wondering start of a smile, knowing she was lost, but not caring. He raised a dark brow and considered her flushed cheeks and the soft, trembling mouth. His gaze moved even lower and surveyed her bosom, until Lisette wondered wildly if he could see right through her dress. Beneath his steady regard, her breasts burned. This was not what she had expected. Everything seemed to spin—the light from the sun intensified, the trees seemed to close in. She waited for what was to happen next, and then she found herself held close in his embrace.

Her heart was racing now. The next moment he bent his head and she felt the warmth of his mouth. He pulled away a little, then kissed her again. The touch of his lips on hers was soft. Feeling a tumult of feelings well up inside her, she relaxed her lips in a faint echo of his kiss.

Unbidden, into Ross’s mind came a memory, a memory that he had once kissed a girl like this before, and that her lips had been just as sweet—but he did not dwell on the thought and it drifted away.

Encouraged, he moved his lips against hers. Lisette could feel his breath warm on her face. He opened his mouth a little. She pulled away.

He looked puzzled. ‘Don’t you like it?’

In truth, his kiss evoked so many memories of the time when he had kissed her before, and all the times she had wanted it to happen again, that she tilted her head and allowed him to kiss her once more. There was nothing threatening, nothing violently uncontrollable, no force or dominance—just the reverse. This kiss was a shared pleasure and she gave herself up to the magic of it.

His lips parted and she felt the tip of his tongue. He teased her lips apart. She relaxed. He sucked gently at her lower lip. She felt dizzy.

‘Open your mouth,’ he urged softly.

She did as he asked and felt his tongue again, touching her lips, passing between her parted teeth, and probing into her mouth. She was filled with the need to hold him, to touch his skin and his hair, to feel his muscles and his bones. Her tongue met his and she was thrilled by the intimacy of it. He held her for what seemed an eternity. There were no minutes, no measures, only sensations and heartbeats. Although her head was spinning with a sickening mix of forbidden love, desire, guilt and unworthiness, she knew she must steady her thoughts. He was the first to break the kiss. His breathing was uneven, his eyes burning with intensity.

Touching her face he looked down at her. ‘You see how much power you have when you choose to wield it, Miss Napier.’

She did see. It awed her and excited her that she, who had travelled halfway across the world, who had convinced herself she had no influence over anything in her life, who had placed herself in the position of desiring a man who didn’t remember who she was, had the power over the very man she so desired. Suddenly, ordinary Lisette Napier felt as captivating and alluring as any woman, and a joy she had never felt blossomed inside her.

‘Was that your first kiss?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she whispered, saddened because he didn’t remember. ‘My second.’

‘And how do I compare?’

‘It is not a competition, Colonel, but I will say that you compare equally as well.’

He looked at her in mock dismay. ‘That is high praise indeed—but not high enough. Is that all my kiss was worth? I am insulted. I believe my kiss should be valued more highly than that. I am a lord and a military colonel, after all.’

‘So was he.’

‘Really? I must remember to ask you about him one day,’ he murmured. ‘Then we are equal in more than just kissing. However, I know you enjoyed the kiss as much as I, Miss Napier.’

He saw a hint of blush come into her cheeks, and he thought her the most enticing thing he had ever seen. Kissing her could be the prelude to all the delicious imaginings in his mind, imaginings that would compromise his honour and her innocence. He was a soldier and a gentleman, he reminded himself, something that had never been hard to remember. Over a lifetime of fulfilling the obligations and duties of his military position, of obeying the strictures of an upbringing of discipline, no matter what his rank and title, a true gentleman did not corrupt an innocent young woman, especially one in his employ, and he should step back. But by God he knew he wanted her.