Chapter Four #2
He was gone before Maeve could push a protest past the shock of his invitation or order or whatever it was.
The man was clearly insane if he thought nothing of inviting his housekeeper on a picnic by the shore.
Who did that? And why had her heart soared with nostalgia for how her life had been before it all went so very wrong?
She was no longer a woman who had time for picnics or other things that wasted valuable time that could be spent working to survive.
But her employer had given her a directive, so how could she disregard that directive?
She could choose not to show up at the appointed meeting place, but he would find her—that much she knew for certain. He was nothing if not persistent.
Resigned to attending his ridiculous picnic, Maeve stomped up the backstairs to her third-floor room to retrieve a hat and gloves to protect her fair skin from the sun, still in a pique from Mr. Nelson’s foolishness.
The spiderwebs hanging from the chandeliers weren’t going to clean themselves, and that was one of a hundred tasks that needed to be completed before his mother arrived a week from Friday.
If they worked day and night between now and then, they’d barely get it done, and he wanted to have a picnic?
She would give his silly picnic a few minutes of her valuable time, but only because she needed to eat.
Other than the spiderwebs, the ballroom was taking shape.
She would move on next to the family’s sitting room, where they would spend most of their time when in residence.
Thinking about her plan of attack made her feel better about taking even a brief break from her duties as she went back downstairs to the veranda.
Stepping out into the warm, sunny day, her heart gave a happy jolt at the fragrant scent of the air, the sound of the sea crashing against the rocks below and the dazzling sight of the trees in full bloom.
How long had it been since she was outdoors?
She had arrived to a nightmare seven days ago and had been working ever since, having hardly made a dent, and hadn’t been out of doors except the night before for the bonfire.
Mr. Nelson stood on the path that led to the shore, wicker picnic basket in hand and a plaid blanket tossed casually over his arm as if he had all the time in the world to while away with her.
A feeling of unease crept up her back. Were the cook and butler watching her leave with him and coming to their own conclusions about what kind of woman she was? That would never do. “Mr. Nelson, I’m unable to accompany you, but I do hope you enjoy your picnic.”
His handsome face fell with disappointment that made her feel badly for being so disagreeable when he’d tried to do something nice for her. “Mrs. Allston packed the basket full after I told her I was taking you for a much-needed outing after days of hard work.”
Maeve stared at him, stunned and furious. “You told her you were taking me on a picnic?”
“Yes, of course I did. How else was I to get her to pack enough for two?”
“What she must think!”
“She thought it was a capital idea as you haven’t been out of the house in all the days since you arrived.”
“She . . . she said that?”
“She did indeed. Feel free to go ask her yourself if you don’t believe me. I’ll wait for you.”
Torn between wanting to know the cook approved and not wanting to appear to disbelieve him, she glanced at the house and then back at him, finding him waiting expectantly for her to make up her mind.
“That won’t be necessary.” She’d find out soon enough if the cook thought less of her for accompanying Mr. Nelson on his picnic.
“Let us be off then.” He extended his arm.
Maeve shook her head.
His arm fell to his side, and he began to walk along the well-worn path that led to the shore, glancing back to make sure she was following.
She linked her fingers and walked with her head down, determined to get through this as quickly as possible so she could return to where she was supposed to be.
The time when she could run away for a picnic in the middle of the day with a handsome man was long behind her.
Now her days were about work, work and more work.
That was a small price to pay for the freedom and safety she’d found in America, and not even the charming Mr. Nelson could make her forget about how far she’d traveled to find a new life.
She would do nothing to jeopardize that precious new life.
Mr. Nelson insisted on taking her hand to help her down the flight of stairs that delivered them onto the sandy beach.
Maeve tried not to overreact to his courtesy. He was doing for her what he’d do for any woman.
“This looks like a nice spot.” Releasing her hand, he spread the blanket on the sand and placed the basket on one of the corners.
“I don’t know about you, but I could eat a horse.
Let’s see what Mrs. Allston prepared for us.
” He unloaded containers wrapped in cloth towels she recognized from the kitchen.
“Fried chicken, potato salad, fruit salad, bread, cheese and cake.”
Maeve’s mouth watered. She’d had breakfast before dawn and had been busy ever since. The smell of the fried chicken had her taking the seat he offered her on the blanket and accepting the plate he prepared for her.
“This is wrong.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You waiting on me. It should be the other way around.”
“Says who?”
She gave him a withering look. “I’m employed by your family. I should be tending to you.”
“For this short interlude, can we not be employer and employee but rather two friends enjoying a lovely day with a delicious lunch and this incredible view of the ocean?”
“Two friends? You’re indeed daft if you think that is what we are.”
“Miss Brown, are we not two human beings who both need to eat around this time of day and who have earned a break from the drudgery of cleaning cobwebs from chandeliers?”
“We are two human beings. I’ll give you that.”
He flashed a grin at her, enjoying her witty commentary. “Eat your lunch.”
She took a delicate bite from the chicken leg.
Aubrey got comfortable on the blanket and devoured two legs in the time it took her to eat most of one. “Where’re you from in Ireland?”
“Dingle, a tiny fishing village on the west coast.”
“What’s it like there?”
“A lot like Newport, actually. That’s why I wanted to come here. It reminds me of home.”
“Do your sisters still live there?”
Nodding, she looked down at her plate where most of the food he’d served her remained.
“Are they married?”
“Two are. The other is still in school.”
“Nieces? Nephews?”
“Two adorable nephews. Jack and Hughie. They’re three and four with another baby on the way.” Would she ever know if she’d had a niece or nephew? The possibility that she might never know pained her.
“Do you write to them?”
With her lips tightly set, she shook her head.
“Do you have photos of your family?”
“I have one.”
“May I see it sometime?”
She gave him that look, the one he was calling her “you must be daft” look. “Why would you want to see it?”
“Because they’re special to you, and as I mentioned before, I’d like to know you better.”
“Why?”
He released a deep sigh. “I wish I knew the answer to that, but all I can tell you is from the time I first met you, I wanted to know you.”
“Mr. Nelson, please forgive me for being rude, but I’m not sure what kind of game it is you’re playing. A man of your means and stature could have his pick of the debutantes in New York or London. Surely you’re not unable to attract the interest of someone from your own world.”
He had never been more delighted by any woman than he was by her in that moment. “Indeed, you’re right. They quite like me.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“I don’t like them, not enough anyway. They’re often silly and sometimes desperate and shockingly forward at times. They have no substance to them.”
“You just haven’t met the right one yet. I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity to meet many lovely young ladies this summer.”
“It’ll just be more of the same.”
“If you think that way, you’ll never find anyone.”
“I want someone like you, someone with fire and passion and the ability to handle whatever life throws at you with grace and aplomb.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “That is not me. I’m none of those things.”
“You are all of those things. I saw those qualities in you from the very beginning when I walked into a calamity to find you trying to fix it all by yourself. The women I’ve met in New York and London ballrooms would’ve sooner set the place on fire before they would’ve tried to fix it.”
“You barely know me.” Her words were hardly a whisper. “I certainly don’t know you.”
“I would tell you anything you wanted to know.”
“Mr. Nelson—”
“Aubrey.”
“Mr. Nelson, I appreciate that you think you see something special in me. That’s the nicest compliment I’ve received in a very long time.
However, if you continue to pursue the ridiculous notion that we will ever be more than employer and employee, then I shall be forced to seek employment elsewhere. ”
“Please don’t do that. I would never do anything to endanger you or your position.”
“You already have by inviting me on a picnic at the shore. Imagine the conversation Mr. Plumber is having with Mrs. Allston as they enjoy their midday meal in the servants’ dining room, which is where I should be.”
“I apologize. I only wanted to give you the opportunity to enjoy some fresh air and for us to have the chance to get to know each other better.” He began to pack up the picnic and was shocked when her hand on his arm stopped him.
“The damage is done at this point. I suppose it won’t do any further harm to finish our meal. I believe you said Mrs. Allston sent cake?”
Aubrey tried to hide his shock—and delight. “That she did.” He served her a large piece of the coconut cake with the rich vanilla icing and then cut a piece for himself.
Her moan of pleasure traveled directly to his cock, forcing him to shift his position so she wouldn’t see what she’d done to him. Imagining that moan in another context only made his “problem” worse.
“This is the most delicious thing I’ve eaten since I left home. Perhaps there could be an advantage to having a ‘friend’ with connections in the kitchen.”
“Have you a sweet tooth, Ms. Brown?”
“A terrible, awful sweet tooth that’s going to be the very death of me.”
Aubrey filed the information away for future use. When she finished her cake, he cut her another smaller piece and put it on her plate so quickly she never saw it coming.
“I couldn’t possibly! I’ll burst.”
“Have it so it doesn’t go to waste.”
“That would be a terrible shame.”
He smiled widely at her. “Indeed, it would.”
As she took delicate bites of the cake, clearly trying to make it last, Aubrey watched, transfixed by the movement of her lips, the flush of her cheeks and the ladylike way in which she moved.
“I can’t help but notice that you have the bearing of a well-educated, upper-class woman.”
She swallowed her bite and blotted her lips with a napkin. “I’m well educated. My father is a banker and ensured that we were properly raised.”
“Then how did you end up a housekeeper in Newport?”
Though her eyes remained open, they may as well have been shuttered, closing her off to him. “That’s a story for another day, Mr. Nelson.”
He wanted to hear that story—desperately. Everything about her fascinated and compelled him to want more of her. But he couldn’t discount her concerns or disrespect her by making things difficult for her.
He would have to be more circumspect in his approach going forward to eliminate her worries about gossip.
They had only a few days before his mother would arrive and two full weeks before Derek and the others from England were due, and he would use that time to show the delightful Miss Brown that he could be a very good friend when he set his mind to it.