Chapter Six
He’d brought her cake.
Maeve closed the door, leaned against it and looked down upon the plate, trying to understand why he had taken such a risk, knowing full well that Mr. Plumber might see him visiting her room at night.
She took a bite of the cake and closed her eyes.
So moist and sweet.
Mrs. Allston was a wonderful cook.
And Mr. Nelson was a wonderful employer to bring her something he knew she’d enjoy.
She sat on her bed, curling her legs beneath her, intent on enjoying every bite of her second piece of the delicious cake.
He had kept his distance since the day they’d picnicked at the shore, and though she appreciated that he had heeded her concerns, she found herself missing him, which was ridiculous.
How could she miss someone she barely knew whom she saw every day?
She caught him watching her at least once a day, often more than once, but they hadn’t spoken about anything other than the house in days.
She missed the conversations they’d had, about their families and their homes. And yes, she missed his obvious interest in her as a woman.
There. She’d admitted it. As much as she’d feared what his attentions could lead to, she’d also been flattered to have gained the favor of such a handsome, kind man.
She took the last bite of cake, put the plate on the bedside table and released a deep breath full of regret. Why couldn’t she have met him under different circumstances? Because life wasn’t fair. She’d known that for some time now, but that didn’t stop her from wishing things could be different.
Maeve eyed the dirty plate on the table and decided to take it downstairs to the kitchen, lest she attract vermin. Or that’s what she told herself anyway. What she really wanted was another chance to see him, to speak to him, to breathe the same air as him.
Foolish thoughts, perhaps, but the need was too great to resist. Tightening the belt of her robe and wearing slippers, she left her room, started down the two flights of stairs and landed in the kitchen, which was dark except for one small light burning over the stove.
Her home in Ireland had also had electricity.
In fact, it had been among the first homes in Ireland to have electricity and indoor plumbing, so she’d been accustomed to both before she came to live in this house.
As she entered the kitchen, she stopped short at the sight of Mr. Nelson sitting alone at the table eating his cake. A bottle of amber liquid and a glass were also on the table.
He seemed equally surprised to see her, his fork freezing in midair.
For the longest time, neither of them moved until he cleared his throat and put down his fork.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she said.
“You’re not. How was the cake?”
“Delicious. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” As he said those words, his gaze traveled from her face to her chest and below, while his jaw clenched with tension.
She felt as if she’d been set on fire, and all he’d done was look at her.
Forcing herself to move, she went to the sink and washed the plate and fork, placing them on the rack that contained several clean pots and pans.
Using the towel that had hung over the sink, she wiped her hands and spread the towel out to dry.
With nothing else to do, she summoned the core of inner strength that had guided her to this place, far from her home, and turned to find him watching her with those eyes that saw her so clearly.
“Can you sit for a minute?”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“Who will know?”
“Mr. Plumber could come downstairs.”
“And what would he see? Two people sitting across from each other at a table.”
Using his foot under the table, he pushed a chair toward her.
She eyed the chair, wondering what she was thinking as she perched gingerly on the seat.
He got up, fetched a second glass and returned to the table to pour several fingers of the amber liquid into the glass, pushing it across the table to her.
Maeve licked her lips and reached for the glass, glancing at him to find him watching her with fire in his eyes. No one had ever looked at her the way Mr. Nelson did, and while it was unsettling and concerning, it was also deeply flattering to fully understand the depth of his desire for her.
“Your hair is so very lovely.”
“Thank you.” She took a sip of the familiar liquid and felt the whiskey burn its way through her, warming her from the inside.
“The color defies description. Calling it red or brown wouldn’t be adequate.”
“My mother used to call it liquid fire.”
“Yes,” he said gruffly. “That’s it exactly. I’ve never seen that particular color before.”
“I used to hate it when I was younger, but I’ve grown used to it.”
“You must never hate something so beautiful.”
“You flatter me, Mr. Nelson.”
“You occupy my every thought, Miss Brown.”
She choked on the sip of whiskey she was taking when he said the provocative words.
He jumped up and came around the table to pat her back while she coughed and wheezed until she finally regained her breath.
“Are you all right?”
Mortified, she nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. “You mustn’t say such things.”
Keeping his hand on her shoulder, he sat in the chair next to hers. “I only speak the truth.”
“It cannot be,” she said softly.
“We’re both consenting adults who find ourselves in a difficult situation, but I’ve never been one to back down from difficulties. If anything, they bring out my competitive spirit.”
“You have nothing to lose. I have everything to lose.”
“I would make sure you lost nothing.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I would take care of you always if you would only let me.”
She shook her head. “You can’t promise such things.”
“I can.”
“No, you can’t. Your family—”
“Is very important to me, but they don’t dictate how I live my life.”
She knew she ought to withdraw her hand from his but couldn’t bring herself to do it. “They would never understand this.”
“They don’t have to. The only ones who need to understand are the two of us.”
“You say that now, but when you’re ostracized from polite society—”
“You’d be doing me a favor. I abhor polite society.”
“Your friends, the duke and duchess—”
“Will adore you. They are so very, very happy together, and one of the last things Her Grace said to me before I departed London was that she hoped I one day found someone who made me as happy as her husband has made her.”
Maeve looked down at the floor, wishing she had the fortitude to resist the overpowering desire he invoked in her.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“You make me feel weak.”
Taken aback by that, he said, “I do?”
She nodded. “I like to think I’m a strong, independent woman, but when you look at me the way you do, I’m no longer strong. I’m weak and powerless.”
“You, my dear, have all the power here.”
“No, sir. You do. I’m nothing but a lowly housekeeper.”
“You’re so much more than that to me.” His gaze fixated on her mouth, and she knew that if she stayed there, he would kiss her, and she would let him.
She stood abruptly, withdrawing her hand and wrapping her arms around herself. “Good night, Mr. Nelson.”
“Aubrey,” he said with a small, sad smile that let her know he too wished things could be different.
“Mr. Nelson,” she said firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.
She turned and left the room. Making her way upstairs, her legs felt wobbly and uncertain beneath her.
It occurred to her halfway up the stairs that Mr. Nelson presented an even greater risk to her than the man she’d fled in Ireland.
That man had been a danger to her physical self.
Mr. Nelson had the power to break her heart into a million pieces that could never be put back together again.
In the morning, Aubrey received a telephone call from his mother. As the line crackled with static, he wished he couldn’t hear her as clearly as he did.
“Yes, Mother, the house will be ready for your arrival and that of the duke and duchess. Miss Brown, the housekeeper, has done a spectacular job.”
“That is a relief.”
“How’s Father?”
“He’s had a difficult few days but seems better today. We’re seeing another specialist tomorrow.”
“Will he be strong enough to make the trip to Newport?”
“We’re hoping so, but he’ll need to rest.”
“The salt air and sunshine will do him good.”
“That is the hope. I won’t keep you, Aubrey. I just wanted to check on you.”
“There’re things we must discuss when you arrive.”
“What things?”
“It’ll keep until you’re here.”
“Very well. I’ll see you on Friday.”
“Good-bye, Mother.”
Aubrey ended the call with a sinking feeling. Four more days until his mother, sisters and their children would arrive and take over the house. He experienced a growing sense of desperation at the thought of so many people around to witness his tender feelings for Miss Brown.
After their late-night conversation, he had passed another sleepless night trying to think of a solution to his “problem” with Miss Brown.
Maeve.
He liked to say her name out loud, to think about her, to imagine what might be possible if only they could find a way. If he hadn’t invited Derek, Catherine and the others to spend the summer in Newport, he would’ve been tempted to run away in the night with her and never look back.
Thanks to the unprecedented success of the company, he had resources of his own that would keep them comfortable for the rest of their days.
They could go west, maybe to California.
He’d heard so many interesting things about the far western state and had wanted to visit for quite some time.
They could find a home there where no one knew them and start a whole new life.
Even the idea of never seeing his beloved siblings, nieces and nephews again wouldn’t stop Aubrey from stealing away with her. She would be enough. He knew it in the deepest part of him. But with his friends having already left on the transatlantic crossing, it was too late now to change the plans.