Chapter Six
L issa carried her basket with the newly purchased loaf of bread as she wove in between the crowd of people. It was market day, and the farmers and bakers filled the town square of Melton. Though the maid’s dress itched a bit beneath her arms, it fit fairly well and concealed her daggers nicely, especially with the half sleeves that weren’t too tight. She still glowed with pleasure at Anthony’s approval over her brown-and-white maid’s gown, beige bonnet, and red cloak.
Noticing a bench outside a confectioner’s shop, she headed that way, hoping to find a servant about as ladies enjoyed a sweet. Just as she reached the shop, another woman plunked down on the seat of the bench. She stopped in her tracks.
“Oh, did you wish to sit? I can make room.” The young woman, who appeared at least six or seven years younger than her, wore an ivory work dress, white apron, and white bonnet that didn’t quite hide all of her dark hair. She moved to the side of the bench, pulling her own cloak to the side and leaving just enough room.
Lissa smiled warmly. This was exactly the type of person she needed to talk to. “Thank you.” She sat and set her basket on the ground next to her. “I’m Margret, but people call me Meg. I have been walking all over the market looking for soap. The weather is much warmer than I expected for November.”
“I be pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m Annie. Mum says we always get this heat just before a cold snap.”
“Your mum is a smart woman.”
Annie smiled with affection. “She is, and well I know it. She’s the housekeeper for Lord Emyn.
“Do you know if she needs any additional maids?”
Annie sighed as she shook her head, her expressive hazel gaze showing true regret. “Mum said with the Emyns traveling, what she has too much of is staff.”
Lissa let her shoulders slump forward. “Then I guess I will apply at Woburn Manor. Do you know if Lord Leighhall is in need of another maid?”
Annie’s eyes rounded, and she grasped her package closer to her chest. “You do not want to work there.”
Surprised by the reaction, Lissa forced herself to remain calm, tamping down the excitement of learning something of great import. “Why wouldn’t I want to work there? Are the wages so poor? I thought he was well established.”
Annie shook her head, but didn’t lessen the hold on her package. “It’s not that. He offers very good wages. He has to because no one stays very long.” She looked up as two men walked by.
Lissa did as well and noticed Anthony talking to a man near the blacksmith’s across the square.
When Annie didn’t continue, she nudged her with her elbow. “Why don’t people stay long?”
As if she’d forgotten what they were discussing, Annie blinked, then her brows rose. “Oh, I don’t truly know why, but there’s been talk over the years.” She nodded. “Yes, much talk. Mum says I shouldn’t listen to gossip, but there have been so many stories, I’m sure part of them are true.” She gave a little shiver.
Now this sounded promising. Lissa leaned in. “I’ve always believed gossip to be at least half true.”
“You do? So do I.”
She waited for the woman to continue, but she seemed to have forgotten the track of their conversation. Not wishing to start from the beginning once again, Lissa led Annie toward what she needed to know. “What do they say about working for Lord Leighhall?”
“They say—and I only tell you what others say, not what I know—but they say that the maids and such must beware of the lord’s roving hands.”
Lissa widened her eyes as if in shock, though she didn’t doubt it was true. The man obviously had no respect for the gentler sex.
“I know you doubt me, but I heared that three women were so ashamed that they left his employ and never returned to their villages. No respecting woman here would work there, so they all come from other places. And what’s worse is that strangers like yerself will come here to work for him and they are never seen again!” The last was whispered loudly.
Lissa clutched her hands in her lap. “Surely you do not mean they were murdered?”
Annie shrugged. “No one knows. But they do say there is a locked room at Woburn Manor that the lord doesn’t allow anyone into, not even to clean it. Some say he does terrible things to his staff in there.”
“No, it cannot be.” Lissa endeavored to look duly shocked, though she doubted that people were killed in the man’s home. If they came to work for him then left his employ, they most likely returned to their own village or found another position. There would be no reason for anyone in Melton to see them again. But the locked room was intriguing, if such were true.
Annie nodded sagely as if she were the keeper of all truths about Lord Leighhall. “I swear to you, it is what has been said.”
“I cannot thank you enough for telling me. I must find my brother and tell him we cannot go there for work.”
Annie breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so pleased I sat here and spoke to you. There are only these two estates in this area, but you may want to try those near Pickwell.”
Lissa rose and looped her basket over her arm. “Thank you for your kind help. I must find my brother directly.”
“Of course. I wish you well.”
Quickly, she took her leave and headed for the blacksmith’s, only to find Anthony was no longer there. Not seeing him in the vicinity, she continued toward their meeting place, an old well, just past the butcher’s at the start of the village.
That Leighhall could not keep his staff said much about him. She doubted the man gave references, and without references a maid or footman was in dire straits. Of course, they could say they were attending a sick parent for a time and use older references. That was what she would do.
So what did the Leighhall do—accost every maid, beat every footman, test out his ancient, odd weapons on them? Though she doubted that could be it, she’d heard of such goings-on in France, especially during the war. And what about the room? He may not allow servants into it, so perhaps he had nobility in? Maybe he was a spy for a foreign country and met with his contacts inside. Or maybe he hoarded gold and jewels in the room and didn’t trust his staff not to rob him. For all she knew, it could be a room of mirrors where he danced naked to admire himself.
She smirked at the thought. Dory had said the man was attractive and used that to his advantage to hide his evil intentions.
Whatever Leighhall’s reason for keeping a locked room from his servants, if that were indeed the case, it meant that Lissa and Anthony would have to find a way into that room. Anyone who locked something away was either keeping a valuable secret or was as a mad as King George. She didn’t fully understand how England could have a mad king and a prince serving as regent, but they did. Since neither influenced her life in any way, she rarely gave it more than a passing thought.
As she rounded the corner of the butcher’s shop, the village well came into sight. The forest bushes and trees seemed to encroach upon it, closer than when it was first dug, but the posts that held the hoist to lower the bucket appeared fairly new, as if added in the last year. If there were a cup available, she wouldn’t mind a sip of cold water while she waited.
Walking down the narrow, worn path of dirt through the dry grass, she concluded that the well was still used by the people in the area who needed it. At that thought, she sensed someone else near and turned to see who it might be. As she suspected, someone else trod down the path, and from his smile, he’d often done so. The young man with dark, curly hair couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen, but what had her slowing was his clothing. He was also of the servant class and might have valuable information about Leighhall.
She stopped a few steps from the well. His lanky stride quickly closed the distance. It wasn’t until he was but an arm’s length away that she recognized the look in his gaze. He had no intention of stopping to chat. Just as she moved her free hand toward the sleeve on her other arm, he reached out and grabbed her basket. She yanked hard on it, and since he didn’t let go, he lost his balance.
Slipping the blade from her sleeve, at the same time using his momentum to swing him around, she heard the thud as his head hit the well post. Like a cuirassier intent on an enemy, she slammed her elbow into his stomach before knocking his chin back and holding the knife to his throat. “Do not move, comprende ?”
The young man’s eyes remained unfocused. He was clearly still reeling from his head hitting the post.
She pressed her blade against his throat. “You would dare steal from me?”
His Adam’s apple moved above her blade. “I just wanted to feed me mum. We haven’t—”
“ Arrêt! ” Anthony’s voice rang out behind her.
At the demand to stop in French, she pulled her blade back a bit, but didn’t remove her dagger altogether. “Why should I stop?”
The soft swish of Anthony’s footfalls as he strode through the tall, dry grass toward them told her he was close, but she didn’t let her attention waver from the youth who would steal from her.
Anthony stopped just behind her culprit. “Let him go.”
“Let him go? Why? He thought to take my bread.” They should bring the young man before the magistrate or whatever law ruled the village. Or would it be Leighhall?
“Sister, do not forget where we were but three years past. What would you wish if you were caught in Talant?”
At the reminder of the night she’d almost been hauled off to prison for stealing a horse, she stilled. It wasn’t that she’d forgotten who she was, but more that she had returned to those days when fighting over a precious piece of pig meant the difference between going to bed hungry or with a half-full belly.
She looked into the youth’s eyes, which seemed able to focus now, and he appeared absolutely terrified. Mon Dieu . He was just a lad, as they said in England. Releasing her hold, she stepped back.
The young man didn’t move.
Slowly, so as not to scare him, she retrieved the bread from the ground where it had fallen, the dry grass keeping it away from the dirt and bugs. “Here.” She held it out to him. “I apologize. Sometimes I forget that I am not like you anymore.”
He eyed her suspiciously, no doubt expecting her to stab him when he reached for it, so she returned the dagger to the sheath beneath her sleeve. “Here. Take it. It’s for you. I can buy another.”
“She will not hurt you.” Anthony stepped up beside her. “She knows what it is to go hungry.”
Still, the young man didn’t move.
Anthony took the bread from her and held it out. “You may take this. Then tomorrow, go to the blacksmith. Tell him William recommended you. He is looking for someone willing to learn. Are you willing to learn?”
The youth nodded.
“Then take this for tonight, and tomorrow you can start buying your food instead of stealing it.”
The young man looked at her and back at Anthony, then finally grabbed the bread and spun around, running into the wood.
“Do you think he’ll go to the blacksmith?” She hoped the young man did, because he wasn’t very good at stealing.
“I don’t know. But better the blacksmith than Leighhall.”
She turned toward him at that. “You also learned that no one from this village will work there?”
“Yes.” Anthony moved to the well and lowered the bucket. “The man goes through servants rather quickly. From what I learned, he’s not in residence but one weekend a month, when he hosts a different kind of house party.”
Intrigued, she leaned her hip against the well and faced him as he dropped the bucket and slowly pulled it up. “What kind of house party?”
“Let us just say it is only partially a Society occasion.”
She cocked her head and stared at him. “Anthony, do not be so coy. Be plain with it.”
He pulled the bucket to the well wall and set it there, holding it as he answered. “Very well. It’s for men and their mistresses only.”
“That fits the man’s personality. From what I learned, his lack of respect for women includes his servants. He thinks because he employs them to cook and clean for him, it entitles him to touch them whenever he chooses. I imagine they quit after one of those weekends.”
Anthony’s brow lifted at that before he scooped the tin cup attached to the bucket into the water and offered it to her.
“Thank you.” She took a sip. As the cool liquid flowed down her throat, she let her eyes close. There was no feeling like a cold drink of water on a beautiful sunny day. After taking a few more sips, she handed the cup back to Anthony.
He took it and threw the rest back in one gulp before filling it in the bucket two more times. The third time, he dumped it over his bare head.
She chuckled as he pushed aside his damp hair. “I’ve never much appreciated bonnets and caps until this very moment.”
He grinned, then doused himself with two more cups of water.
As the water flowed down his neck, it soaked the golden hairs of his chest seen clearly by the open V of his coarse shirt. The small hairs darkened when wet, and the oddest inclination came over her. She suddenly wanted to lick them dry.
Shaking her head, she dismissed the feeling. “I learned something as well.”
He set the bucket to the side and leaned against the post the youth had so recently vacated. “Anything about weapons?”
“No—at least, I don’t believe so. There is gossip that Leighhall has a secret room in his home that remains locked, and not even the staff are allowed in there to clean it.”
“Now that is interesting. Is there any suspicion as to what is in there?”
“Of course there is.” She grimaced. “Everything from a room to torture servants to outright murder.”
“And do you think that’s what it’s used for…if it exists, based upon your source?”
“I do not.” The problem was, she had no clue as to what it may house. “The only way to know is to get inside Woburn Manor and investigate.”
He pushed away from the post and walked to where her basket lay on its side, scooping it up. “That had been my intention, but being a servant isn’t going to allow me the access I need.”
“Then the only other way is to get invited to his special house party.” She smirked. “Surely you can disguise yourself as a peer.” Even as the idea took root, her heartbeat increased. The possibilities of what they could discover were endless.
He frowned as if he had no idea what she meant before understanding dawned. “You mean for me to go to this weekend party of debauchery?”
“No, not at all. I mean for us to go to this weekend of debauchery. I shall pose as your mistress. Unless, of course, you already have one and wish to take her.” She didn’t like that idea at all. Imagining Anthony partnering with another woman bothered her greatly.
He dropped the basket. “No!”
She cocked her head, not a little confused. “No, you don’t want to go, or no, you don’t have a mistress?”
“No, I mean…” He picked up the basket and handed it to her. “I mean, yes I plan to attend if I can garner an invitation, and no, you cannot attend with me as my mistress.”
“Why can’t I?”
“First of all, you’re a lady now.”
She scowled at him, her irritation quick to take hold at his consistent need to think of her in terms she couldn’t even begin to aspire to. What lady held a man at knifepoint when he attempted to steal from her?
As if he understood the error in his logic, he quickly continued. “Second, you could not make a convincing mistress. Third, we don’t know how dangerous the man is yet.” He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to respond. “No, hear me. True, he may not be dangerous at all, but that is not a chance I can take with a peer. It is too easy for him to bring up charges if he thinks something is amiss. I will not have you thrown into Newgate.”
Beyond frustrated with him, she straightened, intending to stalk off, when another idea hit. Instead, she set her basket on the ground and pulled her bonnet from her head. With a few jerks, she removed the pins that held up her long, dark hair and let it fall about her in waves. Then she untied her cape and dropped it before tugging at the handkerchief that covered her chest and bosom, letting it fall, revealing the bit of cleavage between her breasts as they were held up by her stays.
His eyes darkened from their sky blue to a deep azure.
She gave him a sultry smile before sauntering up to him and brushing back the hair from his forehead. “But mon ami , I know much about how a woman can pleasure a man.” She pressed herself against him, finding his chest harder than she expected. Rising on her toes, she whispered in his ear, “Do you prefer me against a wall or on my hands and knees?”
His heart thundered against her own chest before he took two steps back. “Lissa.”
If he’d thought to yell at her, his harsh whisper was anything but. She smiled seductively, not a little surprised by how quickly her own heart had begun to race. “Yes. I am here and I am yours. What would you have of me? Would you like a taste?” She pushed her breasts higher, her nipples threatening to show themselves.
Anthony’s gaze riveted to her chest, his Adam’s apple moving hard as he swallowed twice.
His singular interest had her blood heating. For the first time, she looked at him as a would-be lover and was pleased by the possibilities. With no one to stop her, she sauntered forward until she stood before him once again. “Perhaps I can convince you.” She pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his.
That was all the invitation he needed. His arms wrapped around her and his mouth took over their first kiss, but it was no gentle meeting of the lips, as with young lovers. It was a demand from a man who needed her, or perhaps any woman. The thrill of his tongue thrusting into her mouth had her wrapping her arms around his neck in full supplication.
His hands roamed over her, one finding her backside as the other ran up her side to cup her breast. His fingers moved over her bare skin to dip into her dress, searching and finding her hard peak. The suddenness of her desire caught her by surprise, intensifying every feeling. She pressed her hips against the evidence of his need and moaned.
Suddenly, his hands were gone and she stumbled back, confused, blood pounding in her veins.
“I cannot in good conscience…” He didn’t continue, just stood there staring at her as if he didn’t know who she was.
Tamping down her frustrated desire, she retrieved her handkerchief from the ground and wrapped it around her neck, tucking it in beneath her stays. Crouching down again, she found three of her pins, picked up her bonnet, and then, as if he weren’t still standing there watching her, coolly wrapped her hair up, fastened it, and tied her bonnet. Lastly, she swept the red cloak about her and fastened it.
She walked over to her empty basket and looped her arm through it before facing him. “We’ve learned quite a bit today. Shall we return home now?”
“No.” His voice sounded normal, though his countenance was anything but pleased. “We will talk about this.” He waved his hand between them. “Where did you learn to entice a man so? Does your grandmother know? Did you know this back in France?”
Relieved that he would not hold her actions against her, she moved toward him, but when he took a step back, she halted. “If you wish to know if I was a virgin when you came to find the Capitaine , the answer is no. Before you arrived, I met Etienne.” A part of her heart still hurt when she thought of the man she’d loved. “He and I were to be married, but we did not wait for a ceremony to fully show our love for each other. It was wartime and every moment was precious, no day assured.” She paused, waiting for the sting of pain to subside. “He, like my father and brother before him, was forced into the war and killed. He is the one who taught me about love and fulfillment.” The memories were bittersweet—more sweet as the years passed.
“I didn’t know. You never told me.”
She shrugged. “There was no need to. It was in the past.”
He took a step forward and stopped. “But it’s a part of you, what made you who you are.”
There was no censure in his voice, but she was well aware of the mores of the English. “ Oui , so you can see more now that I cannot marry a peer. You know how they think.” Even as she said the words, she shivered. If only she didn’t have to marry at all. But there was her grandmother to think of.
Anthony appeared lost in his own thoughts, though why her revelation would concern him so much was a puzzle. Unless he was considering her suggestion. “That is why I can easily pass as your mistress if you can find a way to obtain an invitation. I don’t suppose you can steal one?”
That dispelled his pensiveness. His lips quirked. “No, I can’t steal one. An invitation to someone’s home is delivered only to the people invited.”
“Then you must get invited.” She strolled past him. “Now, we’d best get that horse you used and get back to Northampton, or we’ll be traveling at night, and you know how thieves like to lurk about at night.” She winked, since they had once been those very thieves.
In short order, they had retrieved their horse and mounted. She was once again behind him and didn’t mind holding on to him. She’d never noticed exactly how pleasant cloves could smell. Then again, it might simply be his particular clove scent. “Have you ever thought about getting married?”
He chuckled, his body moving slightly with his humor. “Now why would you ask that?”
“You know that I once planned to marry, so I was curious.”
“The answer is no. I have four brothers—three are married and two have children. There is no reason for me to wed.”
She found his answer odd. “What about for love? Have you ever been in love?”
He shook his head as he guided the horse to the left at a split in the road. “That tender emotion has never visited me. It is just as well. I could not imagine having to stay at home with a wife and family when there is so much going on around us.”
His answer wasn’t a surprise—still, it did not bode well for her suggesting they marry. Then again, she wouldn’t mind if he continued with his investigations.
Or would she? Being absolutely honest with herself, she was sure she’d want to help. Maybe after this one was completed, she could bring up the possibility.
His first answer, though, had her puzzled. “Did none of your brothers marry for love?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not privy to their thoughts and feelings. I rarely see them as we each have our own—”
At his sudden pause, she prodded. “Own what? Life?”
He twisted around to look at her. “I think I know how I can get an invitation.”
Excitement at that prospect had her heart racing. “How?”
“My brother.”
“Your brother?”
He turned back to face the road. “Yes. He can most definitely make it happen, but I’m sure he’ll require payment of some kind.”
Payment? Why would a brother pay another? Her brother and she never required payment from each other. “Your English ways will never make sense to me.” She shook her head, completely baffled.
“It’s not necessarily an English way, but more of a Taylour way of operating. My family is nothing if not creative.”
“Your family does not sound like any I’ve known before.”
He laughed. “That describes my family perfectly—not like any other.”
As they turned onto the lane before reaching the path to Silver Meadows, the sky turned a pale pink, signaling the setting of the sun. She was used to returning to the house in the early morning or in the dark of night. But with her maid’s clothing, she could simply walk in the side door and no one would be the wiser. She should have thought of the disguise long ago.
“Would you like to meet my brother?”
At the surprise invitation, she immediately questioned the motivation, but then again, this was Anthony. She could trust him. “Yes, I believe I would.”
“And I believe I would prefer to enter the lion’s den with you by my side, and maybe perhaps the duchess as well. After all, you’ll need a chaperone.”
“I will?”
“Yes. Be sure to wear your best day dress. Think of it as another disguise, preferably to intimidate.”
Ah, now that she understood. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
He stopped the horse so she could dismount.
She stepped to the horse’s head to look up at Anthony. With his coarse clothing and disheveled hair, he appeared rather handsome. She’d always thought him well made, but in the pink light, he practically glowed with vitality. That was what had made them friends from the start. “When should I expect you?”
“Two days hence. I’ll need to send an invitation to the duchess. She may choose to send a different chaperone, so if there is anything you can do to convince her to take this day journey with you, that would greatly aid our cause.”
Seeing an opportunity to press her advantage, she gave him a decisive nod. “I will as long as I can join you once you’re invited.”
He was obviously still not convinced, but he didn’t shake his head. “That is a weighty request. Allow me these two days to look at it from all sides.”
She didn’t see that there were many sides, but she would accept that he couldn’t make the decision so quickly. He liked to examine the ramifications of risky enterprises, but he almost always engaged in them anyway. “That is acceptable. I shall do what I can to entice the duchess to join us.” She grinned. “If your brother were to have a well-stocked library, it would be so much easier.”
“As it happens, he does, and I’m quite sure he rarely uses it.”
That was perfect. Lady Northwick was of the mind that any library not used for reading should be stripped from its owner. “Now I’m quite certain I can entice her.”
“Then I will see you in a couple of days. I shall wait here and watch that you make it inside un-accosted.”
She opened her mouth to object to such a waste of time, but he held his hand up.
“No, do not argue with me. While you are with me, I must be sure you’re safe.”
She chuckled as she remembered a particular night when it was she who had kept him safe. “As I did with you, mom ami ?”
She couldn’t be sure in the fading light, but his face appeared to color. “Yes, we must keep each other safe.”
Having made her point, she nodded then turned and walked briskly across the field to the gardens. Anyone inside would think she’d been in the woods gathering mushrooms with her basket. Either that or she’d been trysting with her lover.
The memory of Anthony’s mouth on hers flared to life, causing her to walk faster. She wouldn’t deny she enjoyed every moment of being in his arms. Nor would she deny that she would like very much to be so again.
Heat filled her as she slipped in the side door and hurried up the servants’ stairs, myriad ideas crashing against each other as she reviewed the possibilities of attending Leighhall’s weekend of debauchery—not the least of which was seducing one Anthony Taylour.