Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story (10 page)

“
Robert!” she shrieked.

“
Sorry.” He retrieved the onion from the floor and, with a cheeky smile, gently passed it to Cynthia.

Cynthia laid the onion on the counter and gave her shoulder a dramatic rub. “So, you're going to start pelting me with vegetables now? That hurt!”

“
Oh, come on. I'm not
pelting
you with vegetables! That was a gentle toss!”

“
Let me see your hands!” Cynthia demanded.

“
My hands?” Robert held his hands behind his back. “Why do you want to see my hands? Are you going to smack my knuckles?”

“
No!” Robert's petulant behavior had her rolling her eyes. “I want to see if they're clean! The state of your hands often leaves something to be desired. If we are going to cook, your hands should be impeccably clean!”

“
Maybe they should be dirty?” Robert countered. “Wouldn't it give you satisfaction to know your evil stepmother might be ingesting some of the filthy fungus under my fingernails?” When he saw her wrinkle her nose, he chuckled. “I'm not serious! There's no filthy fungus on my hands, I promise. As a matter of fact, I even washed my hands before we got here. They're so clean, they're practically sparkling!”

“
Let me
see
them!” she insisted.

Robert shoved his hands in her direction. As Cynthia looked them over, he said, “See? They're as crisp and clean as a morning dew!”

“
I don't know about that, but they don't look dirty anymore.”

“
Shocking, isn't it?” Robert turned his back to her and started busying himself with the carrots. “Now, turn your attention to that onion, Princess. It's not going to chop itself.”

Cynthia stared at the onion and knife on the counter, but she didn't know where to begin. It was her first attempt at doing anything of the sort, but she didn't know how to tell Robert, since he had a tendency to tease her about anything and everything. With a shrug, she started flaking off the onion's skin. As she reached for the knife, her hand was quivering.

Robert peered at her over his shoulder, “You have no idea how to do that, do you?”

“
I confess that I... do not.”

“
Here, hand it over.” When Cynthia passed him the onion, he showed her how to cut the ends, remove the skin, and properly mince it. At the end of his lesson, which was over before she knew it, he passed her another onion.

Cynthia returned to her cutting board and made her first slice. She chopped off the onion's end, removed the outer layer, and tried to chop to the best of her ability. In no time at all, there were tears forming in her eyes. When Robert saw her tears, he smirked.

“
Aww, are you crying?”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, but she must have had some onion juice on her skin, because her eyes started burning more than ever. “Is it supposed to sting this much?!

“
A lot of people cry when they chop onions. Not me, though,” Robert said with a shrug. “I find it's best not to form an emotional attachment to the poor fellows.”

As Robert chuckled at his lame joke, Cynthia shook her head with disbelief. “Oh, go ahead! Laugh at my pain! It is what you
always
do!”

“
Trust me, I don't enjoy cutting vegetables any more than you do. I'm just trying to make the most of a difficult situation.”

“
You're insufferable.” Tomorrow, she was going to ask Tess if she could be paired up with someone else—someone like Solomon. Since he never talked, Cynthia imagined it would be a much more peaceful working environment.

Cynthia finished dicing her first onion, which had her feeling quite pleased with herself. When Robert handed her another onion, she groaned. Her eyes were already red-rimmed and misty, as if she had spent the entire day in tears. “How many am I going to have to chop?!”

“
I don't know. A couple more, maybe.” Robert shrugged. “Would you like to change jobs? I'm going to prepare the raw meat, and that can get a bit messy. So unless you like blood...”

“
The onions are fine.”

Cynthia chopped the second onion without any complaints. By the time she got to her third onion, she felt like she was getting comfortable with the task, and her eyes had somehow built up an immunity to the sting. However, her comfort made her sloppy. As the knife swept through the onion, it also swept across her skin. It was a little nick, but it was enough to draw blood.

She drew a sharp breath, which alerted Robert to her injury. “Are you alright?”

Cynthia tried to suck the blood from her knuckle before he could see it. “I'm fine.”

“
Let me see your hand.”

She held her hand behind her back, mimicking his earlier behavior. “No! I'm quite alright. It isn't necessary.”

“
Your
hand
,” he insisted. As soon as Cynthia presented her hand, Robert winced. “Aww. You cut yourself!”

“
Are you going to make fun of me?!”

Robert's expression was hurt. “Of course not!”

“
You're not going to lecture me, or tell me I need to be more careful, or anything of the sort?”

“
Well, it never hurts to be more careful,” Robert said. He grabbed a cloth from the counter and tore off a sizable shred, which he used to wrap Cynthia's cut hand. “Does it hurt?”

“
Of course it hurts.” Cynthia raised her chin, as if to appear undaunted. “But I have a high tolerance for pain, and I'm certainly not the sort of lady who swoons over a drop of blood.”

“
I didn't think you were.” After wrapping her hand, he gave it a gentle pat. “There. Now, why don't I give you another task to perform? Would you like to make the bread?”
Her hands defiantly went to her hips. “I'm perfectly capable of cutting onions!”

“
I'm sure you are. However, I thought you might want to take a break, what with your cut hand and all.” He motioned toward the opposite end of the kitchen, where ingredients had already been assembled. “You should find everything you need. Eggs. Flour. A recipe. Should you need further instruction, I am happy to assist.”

“
I'm sure I can... figure it out,” Cynthia said, though her voice was filled with hesitation. As she read the recipe, the corners of her mouth were sagging. Cooking certainly wasn't as easy as she imagined it would be. She almost preferred working in the stables!

“
So, I'm sure you've heard...” Robert spoke up, “your Lord Charmington will be here for supper.”

Cynthia gasped. “
He is
?!”

“
He is.”

“
I don't know what's more shocking...” As she spoke, she started measuring and combining the ingredients. She didn't want her bread to be a disaster, so she tried to be as accurate as possible. “The fact that he's coming for dinner, or the fact that you actually called him
Lord Charmington
.”

“
I said it for your benefit, but he'll always be Lord Magnificent to me.” He punctuated his sentence with a dreamy sigh, which had Cynthia rolling her eyes yet again.

* * *

When Lord Charmington entered the dining room, he was fashionably late. His greatcoat was also covered in flecks of snow.

“
Oh my!” Georgiana gasped when she saw him. “You're covered in snow! It's snowing out there?!”

“
It is.” There were empty chairs beside Edith and Georgiana, but James chose to sit next to Roland, which seemed like the safe bet. “This morning, it was only a few flurries. It's coming down much harder now.”

“
An unseasonable snow...” Georgiana said, awed. “The other day, do you remember me telling you it was unseasonably cold? It must mean we are going to have a difficult winter.”

“
Indeed,” Lord Charmington agreed. “Anyway, ladies, it is a pleasure to see you again. Please pardon my late arrival... the weather was cumbersome.”

“
You are forgiven, my lord,” Jemima said. “Besides, we are thrilled to have your company, regardless of your time of arrival.”

James smiled at the ladies' mother. “I am glad to hear it.”

Roland puffed out his chest, which seemed to accentuate his unfortunate mammaries. “You said it was your pleasure to see the ladies. What about
me
, my lord?!” His voice squeaked, as if he was truly offended.

“
It is a pleasure to see you too, of course.”

“
Your hair,” Georgiana giggled. “My lord, it is covered in snowflakes!”

Alerted to the presence of the flakes, James tried to dust himself off. “My apologies. I did not mean to arrive in such a disheveled state.”

“
Oh, there's no need for apologies. You look quite handsome like that. Like some sort of snow angel!” Georgiana declared, and her candor earned her a cautionary glance from her mother.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Robert was preparing to serve the first course. He tried to hand a plate to Cynthia, but she shook her head.

“
I can't.”

“
Pardon?”

“
I can't go in there!” Cynthia exclaimed. “I can't show myself to Lord Charmington. I've been ordered not to approach him.”

One of Robert's eyebrows was comically raised. “Why? Is he a carrier of the plague?”

“
Goodness, no. My stepmother does not want me within his line of sight. She thinks it will distract him from Georgiana.”

“
Well, unless I can successfully sprout a new arm within the next few seconds, I can't carry all these plates on my own,” Robert said. “You're coming with me, with or without her approval. If the crone lectures you, I'll take full responsibility.”

“
She won't care! She'll blame
me
!”

Robert thrust a plate in Cynthia's direction, which left her no choice. She took the plate with a sigh and prepared herself for the worst. “Are you ready?” he asked. “Ready to face the man of your dreams?”

Cynthia used her free hand to swat Robert's arm. “Please. I never said he was the man of my dreams!”

“
Well, regardless, you might want to remove that flour from your nose. I quite like it, but His Magnificence might have a different opinion.”

“
I have flour on my nose?!” Cynthia tried to wipe it with her sleeve. “Is it gone?”

“
No.” Robert licked his thumb and swiped it across her nose, which made her wince. “There. Gone.”

“
You're absolutely revolting.”

“
I know. But isn't that what makes me such a pleasure to be around?”

Grunting with disgust, Cynthia grabbed the remaining plates and carried them into the dining room. Upon entering, she briefly made eye contact with Lord Charmington, who smiled as soon as he saw her.

She also caught the gaze of Lady Montforth, who looked as if she was prepared to twist Cynthia's head off of her shoulders. Without a doubt, her presence would invoke her stepmother's wrath.

But Cynthia got to see Lord Charmington again.

The sight of his face was worth it.

Chapter Eleven

By the time they finished supper, the snow had increased tenfold. Lord Charmington stood in the foyer, staring out into the great white tempest.

“
Well, my lord...” Jemima tightened her lips to conceal her grin, “you couldn't possibly travel in such terrible weather. You will have to stay for the night.”

“
I appreciate the offer, but I don't think that's wise. I would not want my mother to worry.”

“
No, I insist! It would be far too treacherous!” Jemima took him by the arm and pulled him away from the door. “I am sure your mother will understand your inability to travel. Being a mother myself, I know my children's safety and well-being is more important than anything.”

Edith's eyes rolled so far into her head, she might have caught a glimpse of her brain.