18. Ms. Shea’s Warning
R ose scrubbed, polished, and dusted her way through the day, constantly recalling her conversation with the Prince. It is you who fills my dreams. I wake aching and stroke my cock to thoughts of you.
Good Goddess, he was bold.
She walked around all day slick between her legs. Larkin, the cheerful red tanager, joined her after his morning hunt and was a happy distraction. He sat on her shoulder steadily chirping along to her humming.
When her chores were done, she moved on to tending the flowers, as had become her habit. The lower gardener who cared for the indoor plants had noticed her work. Because she did a good job, the human male let her continue. The areas she cared for were flourishing, after all, and it reflected well on him.
As she filled a large crystal vase in one of the main corridors outside of Prince Adrian’s apartments, a form stepped from the shadows. The vampire in black leathers bowed as he held out an envelope. Knowing it was from her Prince, Rose took it with a quiet, “Thank you.” Smiling at the sealing wax stamped with a rosebud, she opened it to read:
A new riding habit will arrive for you before morning. I look forward to our rendezvous with excited anticipation.
With her heart beating wildly and a riot of butterflies in her belly, she looked up to respond. With what, Rose didn’t know, but she planned to say something. It was unneeded, however, because she found the hallway empty.
She read the note again. I look forward to our rendezvous with excited anticipation .
Oh, she did too.
With her shift over, Rose made her way to the servants’ common room, where the long table was just being cleared of the food from dinner. She was late, having spent too much time on the flowers, and was lucky anything was left.
Larkin said his goodbye, heading to spend time with their master. Rose watched him fly away through the open door and then sent a sheepish smile to the scullery maids cleaning up the dinner dishes. She picked a small leftover slice of the nutty brown bread and some of the fruit that was always a favorite.
To do so felt dangerous.
But no slap came, no reprimand.
As she ate and drank her fill of water, the other maids gossiped and talked as they lounged on the sofa on the other side of the large room. Many chose to relax there before retiring upstairs or starting the night shift. Lucinda was one of them, and the dark-haired beauty glared daggers at Rose.
“Rose,” Ms. Shea called, capturing her attention as she approached. “There you are.”
Rose bowed. “Good evening, Ms. Shea.”
“I received your request for tomorrow. Approved.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Rose bowed again.
“Prince Adrian has requested you move to the night shift. You begin Thursday.”
Rose nodded acknowledgment and gave another slight curtsy. “Yes, ma’am.”
“In addition,” Ms. Shea continued, her voice lowered, “His Highness has requested you have off Sundays. That will begin next week.” Stepping closer, her superior continued even more softly, “A package arrived for you, and if I’m not being too forward, I would suggest you remind your . . . admirer of the repercussions of being so obviously besotted. There are eyes and ears everywhere. If you are not careful, you may make enemies. Not everyone is so taken with you.”
Rose watched Ms. Shea make her way out, surprised at her words, and then went upstairs. Having been a slave for so long, she understood there were eyes and ears everywhere, in all the staff, and everyone loved good gossip. Word of anything she and the Prince did could make it to people they didn’t want to know. No amount of loyalty or money could stop all talk.
It was easy to get swept away by Prince Adrian, lost in the romance of the moments he created. But that romance came at a price. It was already affecting Rose’s heart more than she’d admit. And he was in no position to give her his.
There was no good way for this to end for her .
Not only could she end up emotionally wrecked, but she could end up with great enemies, enemies that could do far worse than sabotage chores.
She was grateful for Ms. Shea reminding her of the reality of her situation.
Entering her attic room, she headed to her wardrobe without even seeing Cordelia sitting on her bed reading.
“Hi, Rose! No new books tonight? I thought for sure you’d have more geography.”
Rose looked over as Cordelia closed her book with a snap. “I forgot to go to the library. The flowers distracted me. I almost missed dinner.”
Cordelia chuckled and then jerked her chin toward Rose’s bed. “You received packages.”
One was long and thin, the other fat and square. With Ms. Shea’s warning knotting her stomach, she was hesitant to open them.
It must have shown on her face because Cordelia teased, “If you don’t open them, I will.”
Shaking her head, Rose walked to the bed and pulled the long box to her, lifting the lid and setting it aside. She gasped at the riding habit inside. On top was a dusty blue overbust corset with stiff boning and delicate pearl buttons down the front center seam. It was embellished with peacock blue flower embroidery along the seams and the cups.
“That’s beautiful,” Cordelia whispered in awe, joining Rose.
Rose quite agreed but said nothing as she ran her thumb over the delicate threads of the flowers before she set it aside to pull out the simple white cotton blouse that was to be worn underneath. It had the same embroidery around the collar and the cuffs of the sleeves, and pearl buttons at the neck.
The skirt was peacock blue with long slits at the sides to allow for more freedom of movement. There was larger embroidery in dusty blue, continuing the striking contrast, and more pearl buttons at the side closure. There was also a pair of breeches to be worn under the skirt and a waistcoat in peacock blue to match the skirt.
The Prince had spent quite a lot on this, Rose thought and wondered which Marchioness or Countess he’d stolen it from. Almost reverently, she put everything back in the box and pulled the second one to her. Tucked inside was a pair of shiny black riding boots. The note included read:
To reduce your chances of falling.
Stifling a laugh, Rose ran her thumb over the letters, touched at her Prince’s thoughtfulness.
And then she wondered if the boots meant she’d have her own mount. The prospect excited her.
“I would wish for such an admirer.” The ravenous jealousy on Cordelia’s face soured Rose’s mood.
Saying nothing, she returned the boots to their box and tucked the little note in her apron pocket with the other.
“Do you and the Prince perhaps have a riding date? Word is going around that you were spotted in one of the gardens this morning.”
Not having a witty response, Rose went to her wardrobe to gather her night things. The sight inside made her gasp and step back in shock.
All the dresses Prince Adrian had gotten for her were slashed.
She stared at the long tears in the fabric, understanding the threat that it could just as easily be a knife sliding through her flesh. There were no locks providing safety or security to this room. Anyone could gain access.
Cordelia gasped behind her. “Oh my.” Her unsteady hand reached out to finger one of the cuts. “We should tell someone. ”
“No. We tell no one.” She would not give whoever did this the satisfaction of a reaction.
“But . . .” Cordelia’s voice trailed off as she met Rose’s eyes and saw the resolve there. She sighed. “I bet it was Lucinda anyway, and she’s gone now.”
“Gone? I just saw her at dinner.”
Cordelia nodded. “She was fired earlier today. Told to leave the palace by nightfall. Made a right ruckus with Ms. Shea demanding to speak to His Highness. She ended up slapped.”
Rose was floored. Her Prince had fired the maid they’d just been arguing about on the same day they’d argued about her?
It couldn’t be a coincidence.
She wasn’t sure what it meant. Part of her felt responsible for the other maid losing her livelihood.
And then she thought of slave traders bleeding from slit throats and was grateful it wasn’t worse.
The romanticism of the morrow suddenly seemed bleak.