Soldier of Fortune: The King's Courtesan (Rakes and Rogues of the Retoration Book 2) (17 page)

“There’s been no lady here so long as I can recollect, ma’am, though I am expected to help the other maids with whatever they need. And then of course I’m Irish. You won’t see an Irish lass rise beyond the scullery, ma’am. Not in an English home.”

“Is that the captain’s will?”

“Why, no, ma’am. I shouldn’t think so. The master doesn’t concern himself with such things. It’s just the way things are. I do believe it’s much the same in other homes.”

“Well, not in this one. A lady chooses her own maid and I choose you.”

The girl squealed in delight clapped her hands and accidently knocked over the bucket. “Oh, ma’am! I’m so sorry. I’m so clumsy! I’ll clean it up straight away!”

“Oh, dear! I fear we are much alike. I just tripped and fell on my head. We can’t be constantly apologizing for it, though. We shall traipse this place together and take pride in leaving mayhem in our wake. And don’t clean that up, Rose. You are a lady’s maid now. Such duties are beneath you. You take your orders only from me.”

Roses grin was contagious and Hope felt optimistic for the first time that day. An ally gained. One who’s loyalty would be only to her. Sergeant Oakes was at least friendly and she would win the rest of them over one at a time. Rather than fight Mrs. Overton for control of her home she would simply walk around her.

After Rose led her to the door of her husband’s study Hope sent her to seek out her room.”Come back when you know where they’ve put me. If anyone questions you, direct them to me.”

The girl was practically skipping. “I will, my lady. Right away. When I got up this morning I had no idea, ma’am. You coming here is the best thing to happen in my life!”

Well, at least someone is glad to see me.

Hope hesitated a moment outside the door. Though she fought when she needed to she really didn’t like it. She avoided unpleasantness whenever she could. Yet except for a few brief hours in Nottingham every conversation with this man ended in strife. He didn’t like her, he saw her as a burden, he would resent the intrusion, and it would end in a fight. Nevertheless, if she wished to take charge she must beard the lion in his den. She did her best to armor herself with calm indifference, took a fortifying breath, knocked on the door and without waiting for an answer, she opened it and stepped inside.

~

It was a dark, Spartan room with a fireplace, desk, two chairs, and a collection of shields and instruments of war mounted on the wall. The sword he wore in London hung above the mantel, lethal in its beauty—but beyond carved wood and weaponry, the room boasted no color, no decoration, and no warmth at all.

If a man’s private study reflected his interior life, her husband was dark and dangerous, and his life was war.

“What is it, Hope? Do people not knock at the palace? Surely you can see that we are busy here.”

“But I did knock!” She blinked in surprise when Sergeant Oakes gave her wink and a commiserating smile. “I need to talk to you about the servants. It should be settled now before things get out of hand. It really can’t wait.”

The sergeant rose and bowed, gallantly offering her his seat. “I pray you excuse me, my lady. And you, Captain. I should pass the happy news to the staff without delay.” He stopped at the doorway. “You bring us good fortune, Lady Newport. I pray in return much happiness comes your way.”

She looked back at Robert, somewhat bewildered. Of what concern were forest lands to his staff?

“Well? You interrupted a meeting in my private study. Pray tell me your complaint.”

“Your housekeeper is insolent and terribly rude.”

“Is she? All these years and I hadn’t noticed.”

Hope strove to keep her voice as indifferent as his. “I asked her for a tour of the house so that I might find my way around and she refused me.”

He shrugged. “What do you expect me to do about it? I haven’t the time to take you by the hand. We work here.”

“How droll! That’s almost exactly what she said. I expect you to do your duty. You must introduce me properly, as your wife. The servants will not respect me until you do.”

“But you’re not my proper wife, are you? Yet you feel empowered to invade my privacy, tell me my duty and order me about.”

“Your pretend wife then, devil take you! And I shouldn’t
have
to tell you your duty. I would never abandon a guest, allow my servants to be rude to them, or treat them as you are treating me.” Her voice was heated now. Despite her best intentions, no man had ever made her as angry, or made her lose control time after time, as this one did.

“What shall we do, then? Stand in the great hall hand in hand and lie to them? Fuel speculation about dynasties and heirs, and generations of Nichols’ yet to come?”

“Let us speak plainly here. You mean generations of Stuarts, don’t you? If it irks you so much why did you agree?”

“I mean you are not to play with my servants or retainers, my lady. And that includes the sergeant. They are not your toys or here for your amusement. Mrs. Overton is useful to me and she has been with me for many years.”

His cool voice and calm demeanor infuriated her. “I see. She is useful…and I am not. Except, of course, as a means to acquire land and a title. Now that you have what you wanted…it is too much of a burden to honor and respect your side of the bargain. I am a peaceful creature, Captain. I mean harm to no one. But I swear, if I’d known you were going to be my husband I would have been sorely tempted to put poison in your May Day wine!”

“Madam, if I knew you were to be my wife I would have been sorely tempted to drink it.”

“Oh, but you did know, Captain. And you were very well rewarded for it, too.”

Her grand, disdainful exit was marred by a brief collision with the door. She had always been a bit clumsy, but this man, this house, this situation, had her so off-balance she was covered in bruises, and so frustrated she was on the verge of tears. They almost came when she stood in the hall and realized she had no idea where to go.

“I’ve found your room, my lady. It’s ready for you now.” Rose was such a welcome sight she could have hugged her. She must do something nice for the girl. She and the sergeant were the only bright spots in an otherwise dismal day. Until she saw her room.

It was a sumptuous and cozy corner suite with a polished oak floor inlaid with a sunflower pattern made of ebony and honey-colored wood. A recessed window-seat looked out over the river and a heavy oaken desk sat next to a bank of windows with doors that opened onto a terrace to the south. Pale blue satin and colorful Aubusson tapestry covered the walls, while the furniture was upholstered in darker hues. Rich hangings of gold damask and sky-blue velvet graced a comfortable bed, a mantelpiece of snow-white marble conferred a classical elegance, and a jungle of ferns and flowers grew in potted profusion in every corner of the room.

“Oh, my, Rose! It looks like a beautiful summer’s day.”

“Doesn’t it just, ma’am? I’m afraid to touch anything lest I get it dirty.”

Hope chuckled, her mood greatly improved. “We shall have to see to that. You’ll need a good bath and some better clothes. I believe I may have a dress that will do you for now. I’ll dine in my room this evening, Rose. Please inform…whomever. Then fetch me a jug of wine and a loaf of bread while I see what I can find.”

The little maid scurried happily away, only to be stopped at the door by Mrs. Overton, who seemed every bit as surprised to see the room as Hope was. “I…but this isn’t…your room is…. Rose O’Donnell! What is the meaning of this? No one has been able to find you all day. Return to the scullery at once!”

“Rose will not be returning to the scullery, Mrs. Overton. She’s been a very great help to me today. I am in need of a lady’s maid as I’m sure you’ll understand, and I’ve decided that Rose will suit me very well.”

“Well, you can’t have her. It is entirely inappropriate and it will leave me short of help.”

“Then hire someone. The matter is closed. She has already begun her new duties, haven’t you, Rose?”

“Yes, my lady!”

“Off you go, then.”

Rose ducked past Mrs. Overton and out the door.

“The master—”

“The master can go hang himself, and you may tell him that I said so. It’s been a long day and a difficult week and my patience is worn thin. Take your complaints to him. Leave me now. And if your see Sergeant Oakes, please thank him for the lovely room.”

The housekeeper sputtered in outrage.

“Good night, Mrs. Overton. Please close the door on the way out.”

Rose returned a short time later with a plate of cheese, ham and fruit, and a jug brim-full of cold sweet sack. She was turning out to be a gem. Her reward was a simple dark-blue taffeta dress, and a dark-green woolen, both of which would complement her complexion and hair. “Oh, my lady, these are mine? I’ve never seen the like. In all my life I never thought to wear such beautiful things!” She twirled around the room, the blue taffeta clutched to her chest. “How can I ever thank you”

Hope smiled to remember the days when her first real dress transported her. “I’m glad you’re pleased, Rose. And I think with a little adjusting they shall suit you very well. A lady’s maid must be well-dressed or it reflects poorly on her employer. Proper clothes are part of your wages. Now if you would help me out of my dress that is all I’ll be needing tonight. Then you should go and find Sergeant Oakes. Tell him you’re my maid now and I would be grateful if he can find you a suitable room. And tell him I say ‘Bless you’ for finding this one for me.” She knew it had to be the sergeant who’d assigned her this room. It was fit for the mistress of the house and it explained his wink and smile.

After Rose left she settled with the wine jug in the window-seat, watching as a yellow moon rose slowly from the mist and trees. For the first time in days she had a place to ponder and be alone. No one came to disturb her and she wasn’t surprised. It should have been restful and God knew she was exhausted in body, mind, and spirit, but the events of the past week had happened so quickly and been so chaotic it was as though she’d been shipwrecked and washed up on some distant shore. While she was moving, walking, fighting, planning, talking, she had no time to dwell on it. But now, when she rested, it crowded in.

Charles’s betrayal had been devastating for both the substance and the manner in which it was done. What had she done to make him hurt her this way? To make him abandon her in this half-empty place amongst strangers. To give her to this coldblooded man?

Nothing! I didn’t do a Goddamned thing! ”
She felt a white-hot bolt of anger and washed it down with a glass of wine. She’d given him her friendship. She’d given him more of herself than anyone else ever had. And because of that friendship she’d never asked him for a bloody thing. Not jewels nor favors
.
Only the freedom to leave in peace. And that, he’d cruelly denied her, through trickery and deceit.

I hate him
. She had made him no promises. She owed him nothing anymore. She was not some toy for him to put away while he played with a new one.
He thinks to treat me like a whore and rule me like a husband.
And her proxy husband? He married her for what he wanted while scorning her for who she was. He blamed her for a bargain she’d had no part in making, whilst he’d entered it freely and claimed his prize.

One was a liar, the other a hypocrite, and both had treated her as an object of little value, to be used and moved to suit their own ends.
The captain gets his title. Charles gets to hide me without letting go, at least until he’s sure he wants to, and what is there in this for me?
Humiliation, exile, the loss of freedom, and from menials to master— nothing but scorn.

If anyone had a right to be angry she did. It was she who suffered and she who’d done nothing wrong. All that she owned, everything she’d worked for had ceased to exist or belonged to her husband now. Charles had even denied her the stage.

I will take what I may from both of them, and both of them will pay.
She would make the honor-bound captain desire her, despite his disdain. The evidence in the coach the other day had been unmistakable.
He is not the only one with power here.
She would seduce him, gaining revenge on both captain and king. She would show Charles he didn’t control her and the captain that was no better than she was.
I will force him to admit his honor is no better than mine.

She tossed back another glass of wine, trying to soothe the sharp edges of anger and loss. Her childhood fantasies had featured a place like this, with towering trees, clear flowing water and vibrant gardens alive with flowers of every hue. Cressly was neglected but its charms ran deep and it’s beauty shone through. But surrounded by silent, staring servants and tied to this distant icy man she felt lonely, weary and trapped. Her throat ached and tears threatened but she ruthlessly beat them back.

She reached for the wine jug again, and then let her arm drop. Wine did soothe ragged edges but its powerful alchemy turned anger to self-pity and no good had ever come to her from that. The moon had risen now and though the sky was clear a creeping bank of fog was winding up the river and somewhere in the distance thunder groaned. She shivered and hugged her knees tight to her chest. She should have asked for a fire. It was time for bed.

Despite feeling her way carefully through the dark, she stubbed her toe on the edge of the massive oak bed. The pain welled through her, rising the length of her body and making her cry out as she collapsed in a heap on the mattress. It was a small thing, but it was a small thing too much. As the pain subsided to a throbbing ache, tears spilled down her cheeks. She bit her knuckle, trying to hold them in but the pain and hurt she’d been feeling for days finally overwhelmed her. The tears came in gut-wrenching sobs and she cried like a lost little girl.

~

Robert Nichols settled into his bed, exhausted. ‘You’re not very good with people are you?’ had been Oakes words to him when they’d returned to finish their business in his study. Later, he’d spent twenty minutes listening to the frantic complaints of Mrs. Overton. He had enough to deal with as things were but it seemed that the Mathews chit would insist on upsetting his household.