My Three Masters (4 page)

“Yes. I’ll come.”

“Good,” he said briskly. “Then I won’t have ruined my boots
and incurred my valet’s undying wrath for nothing.”

I giggled again. Lord almighty, it was becoming an epidemic
with me.

“I have two more things, if you will,” added the Marquis as
he put out his elbow to assist me as though I were a proper lady.

“Very well.” I tentatively placed my hand in the crook of
his arm, feeling the hard muscles move under my touch. My sudden awareness of
his physique made me slightly dizzy.

“First, you should know that Dorchester and his countess are
extremely dear friends of mine. I’m far from a stranger in their home. So if
your aim is to avoid the merest sight of me forevermore, you may want to
rethink your choice.”

I stayed quiet for a few steps. “And the other thing?”

“I’d like to request that you refrain from assuming the
accent of the lower classes. Not that I have any objection to it, but it’s
clearly not your natural speech. I promise you the Dorchesters will ask no
questions. Nor will the Duke of Warrington.”

The oddness of his inclusion of the Duke was overshadowed by
my confusion at having betrayed myself so thoroughly. “I… That is…”

He held up a hand. “I’m not asking for explanations. If you
choose to share your secrets with me, please know that they will always be
safe. But I have no intention of intruding on your privacy. Now. Are you still
willing to accept employment at Sweetbriar?”

Sweetbriar.
Even the name sounded like an impossibly
precious haven.
But you would still encounter the Marquis
, warned my
sensible side.
Yes, I will still see the Marquis
, another side of me
rejoiced.

I’ve always been a daring girl. My troubles began with the
flouting of rules. Once I’d been forced from my home, my daring was the quality
that kept me alive. Once again, it governed my actions.

“Yes, I would be delighted to accept their offer of
employment.”

“Excellent.” He snapped his fingers and, seemingly from
nowhere, his carriage trundled into the alley—the carriage that would take me
to my new master.

* * * * *

Sussex—Sweetbriar Manor—two days later

Lady Alicia stepped into the sitting room and carefully
closed the door behind her.

“Well?” The Marquis wasn’t accustomed to being quite so
nervous.

He caught her speculative glance. “She’s not your usual
sort.”

“I have no usual sort,” he growled. “And she’s not here to
be bedded. She’s here for your brat. Did they take to each other?”

She answered slowly. “I could tell she was nervous. She told
me she hasn’t spent much time with babies, though she’d helped birth a few. I’m
astonished at the extent of her experience for a nineteen-year-old who was
clearly gently bred.”

“Nineteen? She told you that?”

“Indeed. It’s a perfectly reasonable question for a new
employer to ask.”

“I suppose it is.”

Alicia crossed to the chair where she had left her embroidery
hoop. Now that she had a child, he often caught her doing such previously
despised domestic tasks. “What do you know of her?”

“Very little. Only what Angelique told me, and most of that
is probably false.”

“She’s quite wary. Has she ever explained the scar?”

“Not to me. And, Alicia, promise me you won’t bring it up.”

“She already did.”

The Marquis’ mouth twisted in a graceless way that would
have stunned the members of his club. “What did she say?”

“She was quite terrified that the baby would cry at the sight
of her.”

Something churned deep inside the Marquis’ chest. Rage or
pity or some mixture; though he reminded himself Miranda had never asked for
pity. “And?”

“Not a peep. The little lamb just smiled up at her as if she
were an angel passing through.”

“And Miranda?”

“She held her as if she were God’s own cherub. I do believe
it’s a match made in heaven.”

The Marquis relaxed against the cushioned back of the chair.
Everything in the room suddenly looked brighter. The bouquet of daffodils he’d
brought for Alicia glowed like the summer sun. The patterned wallpaper—dancing
shepherdesses in lilac—turned whimsical rather than silly. A smile quirked his
lips. “I’m relieved. It was difficult enough to get her to come here. I don’t
know what I would have done if the baby had turned away from her, or vice
versa.”

“But, my dear,” said Alicia, a perplexed frown creasing her
forehead. “Why does it matter quite so much? You can always gift her with a sum
of money and send her on her way. That would be the logical course of action.”

“A sum of money won’t watch over her. It won’t take care
that no one hurts her or insults her. It won’t pry open that closed heart of
hers and release her secrets.”

Alicia peered at him. “Do you have feelings for this girl?”

“Of course not.”

“You lie.”

“I have…protective feelings for her. She’s…fragile.
Vulnerable.”

Alicia gave an indelicate snort. “She’s been taking care of
herself very effectively without you.”

“Yes, but…she’s out of place. She shouldn’t be slaving for
ungrateful people like my wife. She’s finer than that. More sensitive.”

“I give up,” said Alicia, tossing her embroidery aside.

“I thought it looked quite nice.”

“Not that, idiot. On you. You say you have no feelings, then
you claim protective feelings—not something you’re known for—then you speak of
her as if she were a piece of priceless crystal. What am I to think?”

“Think what you wish. But I need your help.”

“How so?”

“She’ll be working for you. You’ll see her in more unguarded
moments. You can…soften her toward me. Make her see I’m not Bluebeard and
Attila the Hun combined.”

Alicia tapped a finger to her lips. “You want me to seduce
her for you.”

“I said nothing of the sort.”

“But I know you, dearest Gerard. I’ve never seen you behave
toward a woman the way you do toward her. You look at her with a sort of
thirst, as if she could wash away all your sins. I see the look in your eyes.
You want her.”

“Stop it. I promised not to touch her unless she wished me
to.”

A broad smile crossed Alicia’s wide-eyed, open face. “It all
becomes clear. You wish me to make her
wish
for it.”

“Could you?”

She burst into laughter. “Oh my dear, deluded man. Some…
instinct
tells me she already does.”

Sweetbriar Manor—Nursemaid’s room

The chamber that the Countess of Dorchester assigned to me
was akin to my idea of heaven. At Beaumont House I’d slept in milady’s dressing
room on a hard wooden pallet. Here I was given a proper bed in a room adjoining
the nursery. It was covered with a featherbed so thick I longed to jump up and
down on it like a child. It was hard for me to pay attention to the rest of the
Countess’ words.

“Anyone who comes to us from the Marquis is a friend,” she
was saying as she dandled Rose, her baby, on her hip. I knew little of tending
babies, but I’d always thought highborn ladies left that work to their
servants. The Countess of Dorchester seemed to be unusual in many ways.

“Oh but I didn’t…”

“I understand you were working for his late wife.” An
expression almost like pity crossed her face. “A fascinating woman, God rest
her soul.”

“Yes, milady.”

She went to the small window that looked down over the
formal gardens to one side of the house. This was one treat I promised myself
once I was alone. I wanted to gaze upon the riot of pink roses and the
intricate boxwood hedge to my heart’s content.

“We are not an ordinary family, Miranda. We have our own way
of doing things. We don’t stand on ceremony much, though when we’re in London
no one would find cause for complaint. But here, in the country, in this lovely
place, we allow ourselves to surrender to the beauty everywhere around and
within us.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure what she was referring to.
Surrender, what an odd choice of word. But “odd” seemed to be the theme of the
Dorchester household. Odd but endearing. As soon as I’d seen the Countess, I’d
dismissed the wild rumors the Marquise had repeated to me. She didn’t look at
all scandalous. Her hair, the shade of autumn wheat, was dressed in a simple,
practical style. She wore a peach muslin morning dress with white
cross-stitching around the neckline. It made her look fresh as a walk in the
country. Her open, heart-shaped face and the gray eyes that met mine so
directly made her seem utterly trustworthy. Everything about her was
forthright, open, warm…honest. If I had met her before my flight, I would have
looked up to her as an older cousin or some such.

She hadn’t mentioned the fact that I spoke like her. I tried
to speak as little as possible so she might not notice I didn’t sound like a
servant. If she had, she didn’t say so.

“Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?” she asked,
looking up from the window.

I gaped. The housekeeper ought to be showing me around and
explaining my duties. The idea of a nursemaid asking questions of a Countess
seemed absurd. “No, milady.”

“You can always ask Graham, of course. She knows everything
and will be truly grateful for a helping hand. But I want you to feel free to
talk to me as well.” She offered me an intimate, confiding sort of smile. “I
grew up with nothing but brothers, and I’m always grateful for female
companionship out here in the country.”

I simply nodded as though I were an automaton. What on earth
could she be talking about? We weren’t going to be taking tea together and
gossiping about the local gentry. Were we?

The oddness of the Dorchester household was brought home to
me over the next few weeks. The Earl, who was technically my master, was rarely
in residence. When he appeared, he blew into the house like a gust of north
wind, hale and vigorous, shouting for his groom or trumpeting the news of his
latest acquisition of horseflesh. He was a handsome fellow, with the brightest
blue eyes I’d ever seen. He and the Countess seemed to treat each other like
old friends; I would have said like brother and sister, except that I did spot
the Earl with his hand on her posterior. Still, he never stayed more than one
night before he was off to a hunting party or a horse auction.

In my former life, horses had been my passion, so I felt
some kinship with the Earl. And as an employer, he could hardly be faulted. His
only words to me were, “Welcome to Sweetbriar and keep up the good work.”
Hardly a strict master.

The Duke of Warrington, on the other hand, seemed to be in
the Countess’ company more often than not. I knew that aristocratic marriages
were not likely to be love matches. But how usual was it for the wife to spend
more time with another than with her husband? Or two noblemen? The Marquis and
the Duke were both present more than the Earl, though I saw little of the
Marquis at first.

If I doubted the Earl’s feelings for Lady Alicia, I couldn’t
mistake the Duke’s. He was clearly completely, utterly smitten with the
Countess, and she with him. Others might not have noticed all the little smiles
and touches and whispers. But I, so frequently in close quarters with them,
could hardly miss the constant flow of communication between them. He spent a
great deal of time with little Rose too, and seemed completely familiar with
the nursery routine. I frequently took orders from him. Did that make him my
master rather than the Earl?

The Duke was just as handsome as the Earl, though some ten
years older. He had thick chestnut hair and devastating eyes, the deep green of
moss in a forest glade. I could certainly see why the Countess was so
enraptured with him, though to my secret self, I admitted that the Marquis was
the one who always captured my attention.

Silly chit that I was. As if it mattered which of the three
fine noblemen pleased me best. I was there to serve, whether it be one master
or three.

* * * * *

The odd doings of the household came home to me a few
afternoons later. I was rocking little Rose in her cradle. The baby blinked
happily at me as she did when she was fighting sleep with all her might.

I ran a finger under her chin and sang softly. “Where the
meadow grass grows, only the country mouse knows, where the green goose
gathers, only the hunter tells…”

Slowly but surely, Rose’s eyelids drooped shut. When she was
safely asleep, I tucked her blanket around her. Then I heard Lady Alicia’s
voice speak softly from the doorway. “Where did you find such an unusual
lullaby?”

I looked up, startled by her silent approach. “I believe I
must have heard it myself, as a child. I may not remember all the words
correctly. Green goose seems unlikely.”

The Marquis would have been satisfied; I spoke with my
natural accent, the one I’d been raised to. Not a single member of the
household had ever remarked on it.

“Where were you raised?” milady asked.

Much as I adored her, I preferred to keep certain things
private. “In the north,” I said, abruptly enough to encourage no further
questioning. “Shall we leave her to nap, milady?”

“Yes, please. I have a gift for you.”

My eyes widening in surprise, I rose to my feet. “I have no
need for gifts.”

“You must not argue with your mistress,” she scolded with a
smile. “Come to my chambers, if you please.” Obediently, I followed her out the
nursery and down the stairs. “I hope you know how delighted we are that you’ve
come to us. You’re just what Rose needed; even Graham is vastly relieved,
though she’d never come out and say so. Everyone here thinks the world of you.
The Marquis told me of your healing skills, so I know you could easily find a
position elsewhere, something perhaps more to your liking than spending all
your time with an infant.”

“Oh no, milady,” I protested.

But Lady Alicia merely smiled and beckoned me into her
chamber. I couldn’t help sighing as I entered it, so comfortable and welcoming,
the bedcovers a delicious shade of periwinkle, the walls like clotted cream. On
her bed were laid out two morning gowns, one a crisp, creamy dotted swiss, the
other a muslin in palest shell-pink. “My maid was cleaning out my wardrobe and
found these two dresses, neither of which I’ve ever worn and both of which
would suit you to perfection.”

I gazed at the dresses as if they were cakes I wanted to
gobble up. “Do you mean—”

“Yes, I mean they’re yours, if they please you. Here.” She
picked up the dotted swiss and held it against my front, turning me so I faced
the mirror on the front of the wardrobe. “I knew it. Perfect! You must try it
on.”

“But… I couldn’t…”

Lady Alicia looked at me curiously. “Is it modesty or
dislike of the dress?”

“I love the dress! But look at me. It’s not meant for me.” I
dropped my head in shame, tilting the scarred side toward my mistress. Mayhap
she’d forgotten about it, forgotten the hideous flaw that made a mockery of
pretty gowns.

“Oh my dear.” With one hand, she put the dress back on the
bed and with the other touched my chin, urging my face up until our eyes met in
the mirror. “Are you referring to this?” She brushed the lightest touch across
my scar.

Stunned into stillness, I merely stared back, tears pooling
in my eyes.

“You’re a lovely girl, my dear,” Lady Alicia murmured. “Look
at you.” She traced the line of my jaw. “Exquisite bone structure. And your
skin is as soft as Rose’s. Especially right here, in the curve of your neck.
Have you ever felt your own skin?”

I shook my head quickly. I had no time for such indulgences,
except in the dark of the night, but that couldn’t possibly be what the
Countess was talking about.

“I never thought about how we must feel to our men until I…
Well, until I was initiated into the secrets of the marriage bed.”

My breath quickened. Alicia feathered delicate touches along
my neck. I wondered if she could feel my rapid pulse, and if there was some way
to slow it down.

“That intrigues you, doesn’t it? I knew you were a kindred
spirit.” In the mirror, Alicia gave me an intimate smile, which I was too
confused to return. Alicia spread her hands across my shoulders in a caressing
manner. She lightly ran her hands down my upper arms, then back up again. My
heart in my throat, excited, mortified, I felt my nipples rise and prayed she
couldn’t see their peaks pushing against my bodice. “The Marquis wouldn’t have
brought you here otherwise.”

I jumped at her mention of that name. “The…Marquis?”

“Yes, my dearest friend, Gerard. I suppose the Marquise told
you terrible things about him?” With her thumbs, she found the tight muscles
next to my shoulder blades and gently rubbed them. A small sigh escaped me and
my head tilted back; I couldn’t help it. Her touch was utterly delicious.

“Well, yes, quite a few, actually. I don’t know how much is
the truth.”

“I made it a practice never to believe anything the Marquise
said, but that’s not to say the Marquis isn’t terribly wicked. He is, in his
own particular way. I should know, since he deflowered me.”

It took a full moment for my half-shut eyes to snap open.
“My lady!”

Alicia laughed. “What else was he supposed to do when he
knew my own husband would make a hash of it? He didn’t want me to turn my back
on all the pleasure he knew awaited me if I could only open my eyes to it.”

I whirled around. My own eyes must have looked like
platters. Her gaze drifted to my front, where I knew my body’s truth was
written in two hard little peaks.

Alicia smiled knowingly, as if we were equals or even
friends. She reached up to cup my scarred cheek. “I feel that you are a kindred
spirit, and so I feel free to share my philosophy with you. Society’s rules
leave some of us out in the cold. Why should those rules be allowed to dictate
our lives? Everything good in my life, everything, without exception, has come
from following my own rule—that of love.”

She caressed the scar, the raised skin hard under the flesh
of her thumb. “I don’t know who did this to you, but I hope you don’t let it
take away your womanhood, your capacity for pleasure, your ability to love and
be loved.” Lightly, Alicia released my face. As her hand dropped, it brushed,
by accident and ever so slightly, against my nipple.

I suppressed a gasp as a ripple of reaction shuddered
through me. I prayed Lady Alicia hadn’t noticed, and indeed, she made no
comment as she continued toward the door. “I know we’re thoroughly shocking,
and if you choose to leave us I will completely understand. But I would be
saddened indeed.”

From the doorway, she glanced back at the dresses. “And
those belong to you no matter what. I will leave you now so you can try them
on. Or mull over the odd ways of the Countess of Dorchester.” With a wry smile,
she left the bedchamber, softly closing the door to give me privacy.

As soon as she was gone, I put my hand to the nipple that
still throbbed with almost painful arousal. Did she know she’d touched my
bosom? Did she know that my nipples tingled and cried out for a caress? Her
hands had been so gentle as they touched my face. I couldn’t help but wonder
how they’d feel on the rest of my body.

Oh I was a wicked girl. I stood there, facing her mirror,
and clutched my hands to my front. I crushed my breasts in my two hands. It
felt better—and worse. It eased the itch and yet made me yearn for more.
Feeling heated and confused, I stripped off my dress until I wore only my
shift. I looked at my body in the mirror and found I liked what I saw. My face
might be hideous, but my body was… Well, quite fetching. Slender but curving at
the hips and bosom. My nipples were round, dark shadows under my shift.

I wondered what the Marquis would think if he saw me like
this. Would he wish to deflower me the way he had the Countess? Introduce me to
the full array of carnal pleasures? I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but
I did know how my body responded to the idea. Waves of heat shimmered from my
head to my toes, and seemed to center particularly on that part between my
legs, the part the Marquis had pleasured. Would he kneel down and put his head
between my thighs, press his cynical mouth into my mound?

I tore myself away from the mirror. Where did such thoughts
come from? What had the Countess done to me with her seductive words and
guileless smile?
Every good thing in my life has come from following one
rule—that of love
.
Those words echoed through my mind with a sort of
mocking cadence.