Название | Seducing Miss Lockwood |
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Автор произведения | Helen Dickson |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
Juliet’s eyes narrowed and anger stirred inside her. ‘I am Lord Lansdowne’s employee, not his servant,’ she was quick to retort.
The woman looked at Juliet with a malicious twist to her lips and an uninterested shrug of her shapely shoulders. ‘What’s the difference? If he pays your wages, you are the hired help.’
‘Enough, Geraldine,’ Dominic chided, his smile softening the reproach. ‘Please remember your manners.’
Juliet was beginning to doubt that this Geraldine had any. The woman was sumptuously attired in a deep pink silk gown with an overskirt of pink net lace sewn liberally with tiny pink beads that twinkled in the light. The bodice was so low as to prove an almost inadequate restraint to the swelling ripeness of her breasts. Her hair was auburn and adorned with diamond pins. Around her throat she wore a gold necklace inset with blood-red rubies. The stone cast a rosy light upon her white flesh and Juliet felt a total inadequacy stir within her.
Sedgwick smiled, his smooth face easily accommodating the ingratiating expression. ‘Then let your—employee come and join us? It could be fun.’ His voice was low and laced with mockery. His fingers rhythmically stroked the stem of his glass and his knowing eyes bore into her.
The beautiful woman laughed softly, provocatively. ‘Don’t be lewd, my darling. Can’t you see the poor girl is positively terrified? Better she should be directed to the kitchen.’
Dominic saw the horror and shock that flashed across Miss Lockwood’s face. ‘Pay no attention to Sedgwick. He’s not normally rude, but his manners are somewhat lacking at present.’
He was amazed at his own concern, for what did he care about a woman he had never met? Perhaps it was because of her wretched appearance, or because she was to undertake a project that was important to him and he didn’t want her bolting for the door before she had taken up her post. Whatever it was, it annoyed him slightly, since he didn’t really have the patience to be fretting himself over a woman he did not know.
Sedgwick reached out and trailed his skilled fingers down the soft nape of Geraldine’s neck. She sighed and arched with pleasure, like a cat, Juliet thought.
‘Ah, Charles, you know what I like.’
He chuckled low and leaned over to trail his lips where his fingers had been before.
Juliet watched, unable to tear her eyes away. Never had she seen anything so blatant, so decadent, so—so disgraceful. She felt she was about to collapse, not because her sensibilities had been shocked, but from a swift rush of anger such as she had never before experienced in her life.
Now she was being possessed of another strange emotion. She had never hated anything or anyone, but at this moment she became so afraid of the intensity of the feeling that was causing her heart to beat violently, that she dropped her gaze from the rude woman and down at her tightly clasped gloved hands that were gripping each other so that her knuckles stood out through the material.
She had ceased to see what was in front of her, for her gaze had turned inwards and she was seeing herself as she must look to this roomful of fashionable people—dull, soaked, her soiled boots and ripped cloak with its muddy hem giving her the appearance of a vagrant.
Witnessing the birth of a new creature, someone born out of frightening emotions, all she wanted to do was strike the mocking smile from the woman’s lips, to rush towards her and topple her from her chair on to the floor. All eyes were watching her.
Thankfully at that moment the butler appeared. For once Pearce, usually the picture of dignified calm, looked somewhat flustered as he fumbled to do up the buttons on his waistcoat, which he had unfastened when he had gone to sit in a comfortable position with Mrs Reed, the cook of many years, in front of the kitchen stove, hoping for an hour or two’s respite while the young gentlemen seemed intent on getting more inebriated than they already were, which was certainly nothing new when they had spent the day shooting at birds or galloping after the fox during the hunting season.
‘There was no one on duty at the door, Pearce,’ Dominic said sharply but without reproach. ‘Miss Lockwood had to let herself in.’
Somewhat disconcerted, Pearce allowed his features to relapse momentarily into an expression of disbelief. Then, his lips pursed in a suitable disdain, he said, ‘I apologise, your Grace.’
‘I think your apology should be directed at Miss Lockwood, Pearce. Show her to her room and make sure she has everything she requires.’
‘Yes, your Grace. Miss Lockwood’s room is prepared.’
Dominic looked down at his new employee. ‘Goodnight, Miss Lockwood. I hope you have a comfortable night. I’ll see you in the library in the morning. Nine o’clock sharp.’
‘Yes, of course.’
Pearce half-turned to Juliet. ‘If you would come this way.’
‘Thank you. If you gentlemen will excuse me.’ Juliet’s voice was low, cool and slightly contemptuous as her eyes passed over them, before she turned about and went out.
Pearce was already walking away. When the door closed behind her, for a moment there was silence, and then, as if on cue, that roomful of ugly people erupted in loud guffaws of laughter.
‘Good Lord, Dominic,’ Sedgwick cried, loud enough for her to hear, ‘I doubt you will be tempted in that direction. Why, the girl’s pathetic, as plain as a pike staff and—’
‘I know, Sedgwick, and with no feminine appeal what-so-ever and more unfashionable than Farmer Shepherd’s scarecrow,’ the Duke interrupted, laughter not far away.
Juliet seethed.
A scarecrow!
Upon her soul, she couldn’t remember ever being so humiliated. Having no wish to hear more, she turned away and strode after Pearce, unable to force any coherent thought to the forefront of her mind. She was dazed, numb. All she could hear over and over again was the carelessly brutal opinion of her spoken in jest by the man she was to work for.
It wasn’t until she found herself traversing the many corridors and staircases of Lansdowne House that the anger in her began to subside, and, like a mist clearing from her eyes, she looked at her situation. But as she did so a sickness assailed her, for she knew that no matter how she came to view her employer, there would remain in her an intense dislike of him while ever she remained beneath his roof. If she had any alternative, she would leave right now, but, she thought as she suddenly shivered and sneezed, she needed the work and a roof over her head and the money to help Robby, so for the present she would have to bite the bit and put up with it.
Pearce turned and gave her a baleful look. ‘Oh dear, Miss Lockwood. I do hope you haven’t caught a chill.’
‘So do I,’ Juliet murmured, fumbling for her handkerchief as she sneezed again and felt the beginnings of a stabbing headache.
Alone, she looked at the room that was to be her home for the next few months. It was a well-appointed chamber, both handsome and comfortable with a large bed, overlooking the lawns to the south of the house. It was close to the servants’ quarters, yet far enough away to make her different in their eyes. She sighed. As if she didn’t have enough to contend with without resentment from the domestic staff.
Feeling her headache getting worse, she poured herself some water from the pitcher and drank thirstily. When a footman brought her valise she quickly unpacked and got ready for bed, relieved when she finally slipped between the cool sheets. She closed her eyes to stop the hazy waves in front of her eyes, feeling herself slipping into a swirling mass.
The next thing Juliet heard was a knocking on her bedroom door. Her bemused mind refused to function, preferring the anaesthesia of sleep. When the knocking continued, she struggled to open her eyes. Sunlight slanting through the windows almost