Seducing Miss Lockwood. Helen Dickson

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СКАЧАТЬ I will. Thank you.’

      He glanced at her, and she felt her cooling cheeks begin to burn again. A glint of amusement flickered in his intelligent silvery eyes, almost as if he had guessed what she was thinking.

      ‘No need to thank me. Fresh air is free, Miss Lockwood.’

      Juliet waited until he had disappeared into the house before resuming her seat. What sort of person was he, she wondered, this employer of hers? Her stomach churned when she remembered the harsh coldness of his words when he had come to her room, not realising she was ill, and when he had his kindness and concern had been exemplary.

      Her position was becoming far more complicated than she had ever anticipated. Not only did she have her work to contend with, she also had to find a way of dealing with her own irrational attraction to her employer. She couldn’t believe he had aroused such a strong response within her—no one else had achieved that.

      The following morning, throwing back the covers, Juliet swung her feet down to the carpet, feeling much stronger and eager to begin work,

      Sitting at the dressing table, she brushed out her hair before twisting it into a tidy bun at her nape. She lingered a moment, examining her features with a critical eye, remembering the attractive woman she had seen on her arrival. For the first time in her life she wished she were beautiful. Beauty meant delicate features, clear blue eyes and soft blond hair. Her hair was an indeterminate shade of brown, her eyes too dark and her cheekbones too high, her mouth too full. The girls at the Academy had teased her about her looks and about her figure, too, for it wasn’t proper for a young woman to have a tiny waist and a voluptuous bosom.

      She had never been concerned about her looks. She had thought only about learning, reading, her father and her brother, so that it left little room for anything else. A change had taken place, and it had come on her arrival to Lansdowne House. With it had come something that must be instinctive with every woman and she didn’t welcome it. The meeting with her employer had awakened something new, something she had sensed fleetingly in the past but never fully realising it until she had looked into a pair of silver-grey eyes.

      A rueful smile curved her mouth. The Duke’s friend Sedgwick had called her pathetic, and if she were honest she must have looked a sorry sight. But there could be no excuse for what the Duke had said—about her looking like Farmer Shepherd’s scarecrow. It was an aspect to his character that told her a great deal about the man. If she could leave Lansdowne House, she would, but she would never find another position as well suited to her qualifications and the generous amount of money she was being paid.

      But to be near the Duke of Hawksfield, knowing the disdain with which he regarded her, was an intolerable prospect.

      Leaving her room, she stepped out into the passage. The rest of the household appeared to be sleeping. Everything was still. Downstairs, the hall was deserted, although she could hear the sound of voices and the distant clattering of pots in the kitchen, which she entered.

      It was a splendid room where delicious smells assailed her, whose every surface was so highly scrubbed and polished it hurt the eye. A massive range with glowing coals occupied one wall, and there were two enormous tables, copper pans and bowls and chopping boards, and a huge dresser with what seemed to be hundreds of pieces of crockery and silver-covered dishes.

      Maids scurried about their work under the watchful eye of Mrs Reed. They all turned to stare at the newcomer. She returned each and every look with a cordial smile. Seemingly unimpressed, they looked away. Like them she was employed by the Duke, but her elevated position set her apart.

      Mrs Reed, stout and full bosomed and holding a long-handled spoon, looked up and studied the new arrival from head to foot. ‘You must be Miss Lockwood.’

      ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Juliet replied quickly, awkward at her intrusion.

      ‘You’re not from these parts?’ she said, as though Juliet had professed herself to be an alien from a place beyond the reach of civilisation.

      ‘No, I am not.’

      ‘And you’re feeling better now, are you?’

      ‘Yes, much better, thank you.’

      ‘Good.’

      ‘You are Mrs Reed?’

      ‘I am. I’m the cook for his Grace—have been for thirty years.’

      ‘Then I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Reed,’ Juliet said, already realising that it would need a delicate touch to deal with the ticklish task of keeping on the right side of the cook. ‘It is you I have to thank for the excellent food Dolly was so kind to bring to my room. I wonder if I could have some coffee—and perhaps some toast sent in to the library? I’m anxious to see where I’m to work.’

      Mrs Reed looked none too pleased at having one of the maids taken off their work to wait on the new girl, which Dolly had been doing too much of late, but she nodded all the same. ‘I’ll prepare a tray and have Dolly bring it to you, but in future I’d appreciate it if you fetched it yourself. They’ve enough to do without running back and forth to the library.’

      The tone was courteous, but the dismissal clear.

      Juliet smiled sweetly. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Reed.’ Mrs Reed sniffed as though to say and so she should be. ‘In future I will do that.’ She had no choice but to withdraw.

      Sir John’s library was impressive, but it could not compare with what she saw when she entered the library at Lansdowne House. Instantly she felt the room’s peace and tranquillity. It was a square high room and smelled of beeswax and old leather, a wonderful smell she savoured. A globe of the world stood in one corner, alongside a glass display case containing a selection of artefacts and curiosities, and four beautiful miniature water colours by an artist she did not recognise. There was a richly carved huge round table in the centre and comfortable leather chairs.

      The room was awash with books on shelves from floor to ceiling, huge tomes, some behind glass for preservation, and journals and pamphlets. She ran her eyes along each shelf in turn, reading the names on the polished spines, letting her fingers trail over the leather bindings, pausing now and then when a particular volume caught her interest. Some were dog eared and in need of attention.

      There was a collection of religious texts, a section devoted to English literature, and in the furthest corner of the library was an alcove dedicated to books on history. She stared in awe at the priceless artefacts and the glorious collection of paintings in ornate frames, and she was sure that was a Rubens over the fireplace.

      Dolly brought the tray with her coffee, a small jug of frothy milk and a bowl of white sugar cubes. She placed it on the table. ‘Shall I pour it, miss?’

      ‘No, thank you, Dolly. I can manage.’

      ‘Very good, miss—and don’t mind Cook. Her bark’s worse than her bite, as they say. She meant no harm—in fact, she’s sent you some of her special biscuits to have with your coffee, as well as the toast.’

      ‘I can see that,’ Juliet said, somewhat heartened by the cook’s unexpected kindness. ‘They look delicious. Please thank her for me, will you, Dolly?’

      ‘I will, miss. And don’t be put off by Pearce either. He might look as though he’s come out of the laundry over-starched, but he’s an old softy at heart.’

      Juliet СКАЧАТЬ