Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story (12 page)

“
I feel
more
guilty putting Lord Charmington in this room! What if he gets bitten?”

“
What if the spiders decide to eat him? What if he wakes up in the morning and his entire body is swathed in arachnid webbing, like some sort of Egyptian mummy?”

Cynthia shuddered. She gripped the feather duster, but she didn't move. She couldn't bring herself to eradicate the webs, because eradicating them meant moving closer to the spiders' lair.

“
If that should happen, you can rest assured, I'll cut him out of his cobweb prison and save the day. I won't let the spiders consume his eyeballs.”

“
Please, Robert, don't jest. I hate spiders. I have a dreadful fear of them.”

Robert moved to another corner of the room and continued dusting away the webs. “Well, I like them.”

“
What?! Who could possibly
like
spiders?!”

“
Robert does.” He watched her in the corner of his eye. Cynthia moved to a web-laden corner of the room, squinted, and raised her feather duster. “Have you ever tried to kill a spider? It sees you coming, then it tries to run away on its tiny little legs. It's pitiful, really.”

“
Why are you killing them if you like them?
Robert didn't answer her question. For once, he didn't have a comeback. Cynthia took a deep breath as she swept away the webs. Once she started the task, her tension settled a bit. She and Robert circled the room, dusting and de-webbing until there wasn't a trace of filth in sight.

When they finished their task, they reunited in the center of the room, where Robert's eyes went to her hair.

“
That wasn't so terrible,” she said.

“
Uh.”

“
Is there something else that needs to be done? I saw you sweeping the floor.... it looks quite clean to me.”

“
Umm...”

Cynthia continued, “You changed the bedsheets recently, did you not? I thought we would have trouble cleaning the room within the hour, but it seems to be going--”

“
Cynthia,” Robert interrupted her, “I don't mean to alarm you, but--”

“
What?!”

“
There's a wee spider,” Robert reported. He watched the arachnid tumble around in her tresses. “In your hair.”

“
Aaaaah
!” In a state of panic, Cynthia threw down the duster and ran around the room, smacking her head and flailing her hair. As he watched her conniption, Robert almost felt guilty for being the bearer of bad news.

Cynthia danced and convulsed and flipped her hair for several seconds, then she shrieked, “Is it gone?!”

“
I think it might be.” Robert was grinning as he collected her feather duster from the floor. He didn't want to see her panic, but it was really an amusing spectacle. “If it managed to cling to you after all that, it would have to be a champion spider.”

“
Will you check my hair?!” Cynthia ran to Robert's side and thrust her head under his chin.

“
You want me to pick through your hair like a monkey?”

“
No. Nothing like
that!”
Cynthia said, “Just tell me you don't see anything!”

Robert shuffled a finger through her hair, which was terrifically disheveled after her frantic dance. “I don't see anything.”

“
Are you certain?!”

“
Quite.”

Robert was about to lead her out of the room, but before he could move, the door to the guest room opened, and Roland stepped inside.

“
My dearest Cynthia, are you alright?!” Roland clasped a hand over his heart as he ran to her side. “I thought I heard a scream!”

Dearest?!
What was he playing at? She wasn't his
dearest
in any capacity whatsoever. Apart from her stepmother and stepsister, there was no one she hated more than Roland Eggert. “I am quite alright, Roland. There was... a spider.”

“
A spider?!” Roland gasped. “All that fuss over a spider?!”

“
I... have a fear of them.” When Cynthia's eyes met Robert's, she issued an ocular plea. She wanted him to come up with an excuse, a way they could leave the room posthaste—but Robert looked amused, if anything. “Did you need something, Roland?”

Rolly seized her arm and dragged her toward him. “I need YOU!” he professed.

“
You need... me?” Cynthia tried to pull away, but his grip was fierce. “Is there some task you need me to perform?”

“
I need you to heal my heart, Cynthia! I need you to merge your soul with mine! I need your love, your devotion, your affection. I need you to stop this game and end my misery!” Roland panted as he spoke, as if his words were his undoing. “I believe we are
both
in misery, Cynthia, and you are the only one who can end it!”

Roland's hand slipped away from her arm, so Cynthia inched away from him. “I'm not quite sure what you mean, Roland...”

“
Marry me! Marry me, and put an end to this sham! You don't have to live in shame, Cynthia! You don't have to keep doing this to yourself!” Roland got down on his hands and knees and groveled. He didn't care that there was another man there, or that the other man was smirking. All that mattered was Cynthia—his sweet, wonderful Cynthia! “It hurts my heart to have to see you slave away like this!”

“
You
are the one who put me in this position, Roland!” Cynthia reminded him. “You and my stepmother... you are both to blame!”

“
I needed to teach you a lesson!” Roland squeaked. “Am I wrong to think the lesson has been learned? Surely you have seen the light by now? Surely this isn't the sort of life you want for yourself!?”

Cynthia crossed her arms over her chest as she glowered down at him. “And my only salvation would be to marry you? Is that what you're saying?”

“
Well... yes.”

“
Then my answer, as always, remains the same!” Cynthia said. “I would rather be a servant than marry you, Rolly!”

An audible whimper slipped from his throat. “Are you serious?!”

“
I am as serious as I could possibly be. Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to inform Lady Montforth that the room has been prepared.” Cynthia gave a nod to Robert, who obediently followed her out of the room. If she was any other servant, she knew she would be chided for giving Roland the cut direct.

But she wasn't just any servant.

If only Lord Charmington knew...

* * *

“
Biscuits?!”

When Cynthia saw Edith standing in the doorway with the plate in her hands, she gasped. It had been so long since she had spoken to Edith, Cynthia thought her stepsister had forsaken her. Edith quietly stepped into the room, careful not to rouse Cynthia's roommate. Tess was already asleep and snoring—a fact that continuously contributed to Cynthia's sleeplessness.

“
I brought them for you...” Edith handed over the plate and sat beside Cynthia on the bed. “I should also take the time to iterate how completely and utterly
sorry
I am!” Edith's words were supported by the fact that she had tears in her eyes.

“
Why? You have nothing to be sorry for, Edith.” Cynthia sank her teeth into a ginger snap and reclined on her pillow.

“
I do! I feel terrible!” Her words were emphatic, but she kept her voice low. “I cannot believe my mother is capable of this... I cannot believe what she's done to you! And for what reason? It is happening right under my nose, and there's nothing I can do about it!”

“
Nevertheless, you have no reason to apologize,” Cynthia insisted. “The fault lies
entirely
with Jemima and Roland.”

“
I am so sorry I didn't come sooner.” As she spoke, Edith stroked the younger woman's hair. “I was afraid my mother would forbid it. But... rest assured, you are still my sister. You will
always
be my sister. You are more of a sister to me than Georgiana could ever be!”

“
Likewise.”

“
I only wish there was something I could do to help you,” Edith sighed.

“
The biscuits are wonderful,” Cynthia said, flashing an encouraging smile. “And really, it isn't as terrible as you might think. The servants are friendly... and while the work is demanding, it keeps me busy. It leaves me no time to fixate on gloomy thoughts.”

“
You had no time to mourn your father,” Edith said with a pout. “It isn't fair!”

“
I have had the same thought... but perhaps it is a blessing? He would not want me to spend my days crying about him.” As an image of her father's kindly face flashed before her eyes, Cynthia could feel tears filling them. “But I
do
miss him. So much.”

“
As do I.” Edith took her stepsister's hand and gave it a squeeze. “And he would be disgusted with my mother for what she's done!”

“
True. But wishing he was here will never bring him back...” Cynthia sighed. “I just have to keep moving forward. I don't intend to be a servant forever. Somehow, someday, I'll get my life back.”

“
And if there's anything I can do to help...”

Tess grumbled and stirred, so both girls were silent for several seconds. The maid rolled her head into a spot of drool and continued her sonorous slumber.

“
What about Lord Charmington?” Cynthia whispered.

“
What about him?”

“
Is he...” Cynthia hesitated. While she trusted Edith with her whole heart, she did not want to tell another soul about her encounter with the earl. The fact that Robert knew about it was bad enough. “Has he set his cap on Georgiana?”

Edith laughed. “Goodness, no! I think she vexes him! You know how Georgiana can be. She can be quite a handful!”

Cynthia nodded in agreement, then nibbled on her biscuit. She couldn't shake the feeling that Lord Charmington would be her hero, her salvation. The fact that they were under the same roof made her even more eager to cross paths with him. As the minutes ticked away, Cynthia became desperate to see him again. Apart from slipping into his bedchamber—which she would
neve
r do—she did not know how to approach him.

At the moment, all she could do was dream of his face.

If only she could sleep!

Chapter Thirteen

Her vision was so blurred by sleeplessness, Cynthia was having a hard time reading the words. The fact that her candle's light was waning did not make the task any easier. It was after midnight, but she would have to wake up early the next day. It seemed she would be enduring yet another night without rest.

She couldn't settle her mind long enough to fall asleep. Every time she laid down, it was as if she was swimming in a sea of self-sabotage. The moment she felt her body slipping, her brain conjured new thoughts to keep her awake.

Now that she was a servant, she doubted she would be welcome in the library, but she didn't care. Novels were her only escape—if only she could focus on the words she was reading!

When she saw the door open, Cynthia held her breath for a few seconds. If Georgiana, Jemima or Rolly found her reading in the library, she could only imagine the repercussions. However, the late night visitor was none other than Lord Charmington, the very man she had been dreaming about all day long.

“
Oh!” he exclaimed when he saw her. “I did not realize the library would be occupied at such an hour...”

Cynthia's head sunk between her shoulders. While she desperately wanted to be in his presence, an encounter with the earl wasn't without its risks. Not to mention, it was hardly proper for a lady to cavort with a gentleman after midnight.

Fortunately for Cynthia, she wasn't a lady anymore.