The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance) (14 page)

BOOK: The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance)
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“Good afternoon, Mr. Lamb,” Mary said, bobbing a curtsy. As she bobbed, she tightened her grip on the bundle she was holding. It looked like laundry. “The weather is fine, but I think it might rain. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“You could give me a moment of your time,” he said, his smoldering blue eyes burning down on the homely little maid. After years of flirting with women, he knew how to appear interested, even when he was not. “Do you have some time to spare for me?”

“Oh…” Mary didn’t say anything for several seconds. She didn’t know what to make of his request. “Well, um… of course.”

Suddenly, Andrew pulled a flower from behind his back and held it out to her. “Have you had a chance to explore his lordship’s garden? I can’t imagine anyone’s been tending to it for quite some time, but it’s still very lovely.” He wiggled the azalea in front of her. “It’s for you, you know.”

Tucking her bundle under one arm, Mary reached out to take the flower. “Really, Mr. Lamb?”

“Yes, I picked it for you. But… it came from the garden, so it’s nothing special.”

“The sentiment is special.” In the matter of a minute, Mary’s entire neck was covered in splotches of red, an indication of her shyness. She never expected to speak to Andrew Lamb in such close quarters, and she certainly hadn’t expected him to give her a gift. A flower seemed like the sort of thing a beau would present to the woman he was courting, not a friendly gift for a maid. But Mary was too sensible to get her hopes up over something so silly. “Thank you, Mr. Lamb.”

“You can call me Andrew, if you’d like.”

“Andr--” she started to say his name, but she cut herself off. “No, I don’t think that would be proper.”

“Why not? I can call you Mary, can’t I?”

“Well, yes… that is… but I’m…”

“Call me whatever makes you comfortable,” Andrew said. “I’d hate for you, of all people, to feel uncomfortable around me.” Andrew knew he was toying with her, but he couldn’t help himself. When women started to twitch and fidget around him, he always enjoyed their dissipating poise.

“Well, I… um…” Mary was anxiously eyeing the hallway behind him. She wanted him to move, but she didn't know how to say it.

“Do you want me to carry that for you?” he asked, flicking a finger in the direction of her bundle.

“Oh, this? These are just some old linens I gathered. They were covered in dust, so I was going to wash them…”

“It sounds like His Lordship is working you too hard. I thought you were Lady Randall’s maid. You shouldn’t be forced to do various jobs around the house as well.” Andrew reached out and snatched one of her hands—the one holding the azalea. “Look at these hands! They’re too delicate for hard work.”

“Well… no.” Mary shook her head. “I did most of the washing when I worked at Mr. Lennox’s house in London. No one asked me to do this. If I see work that needs to be done, I’ll do it.”

“What an admirable trait.” He thought about kissing her hand, but the maid already seemed a bit unsteady on her feet. It wasn’t his intention to make her swoon.

“It’s not admirable,” Mary protested. She wanted to pull her hand away, but she wasn’t sure how she should act around a man of quality. Was it proper conduct to let him hold her hand, or to politely withdraw it? “I’m paid to do work. Besides, I’d rather keep busy. It keeps my mind off of things I’d rather not think about.”

“I know it’s ungentlemanly of me to pry, but… what thoughts are you trying to avoid?”

“Well…” Mary looked over her shoulder, as if fearful of being caught. “It’s just the pains of every day life, Mr. Lamb. When my mind is idle, I always find myself thinking negative thoughts.

“I suppose the same could be said for me,” Andrew said, “but I think I’m slightly different. My lack of companionship makes me lonely… and that’s when life starts to get depressing.” He stared at her as he spoke, trying to decide if her looks would improve with the removal of her dreadful gray bonnet.

Good God, I must be lonely indeed... to think about undressing this somber

little maid,
his thoughts teased him.

“I’m always lonely,” Mary said, lowering her eyes.

“Really? But what about Lady Randall? She seems to value your company quite a bit.”

“For a maid, I suppose,” Mary answered with a shrug. “I could say the same for you. You and Lord Randall are friends, but you said you’re lonely as well.”

“Touché, Mary. Though, to be honest, I think it’s my lack of
female
companionship that leaves me in anguish.”

“Oh…” Mary finally pulled her hand away. She couldn’t believe he bothered to hold it so long.

“What about you, Mary? Is there a man in your life?”

“Oh… no…” Her face was getting warmer and redder by the second. For the life of her, Mary couldn’t come up with an explanation as to why Andrew was asking such a question. He wasn’t interested in her, surely. Even if he was the sort of man who flirted with maids, she wasn’t the sort of maid who attracted that sort of attention. She was plain and mousey, and not as young as she used to be.

“Do you
want
a man in your life?” Andrew whispered. He knew he shouldn't make a sport of her, but he couldn't help himself.

“I… haven’t given it much thought.”

“Let me take these linens for you, Mary,” Andrew insisted, tugging the soiled bedsheets from her arm. “I’ll get them washed for you, and you can get some rest. I’m sure you deserve a rest.”

“But, I--”

“In return, you must promise to keep me company!”

“I, um…”

“Do you promise?”

Mary frowned. Actually, she would have rather washed the linens. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend time with Andrew Lamb, she just didn’t think she
should
. She would hate to fall for him, knowing full well it would be impossible for him to fall for her. He, on the other hand, would be a very easy man to fall in love with. Even an unimpressionable woman like her would have a hard time resisting him. “Mr. Lamb, I don’t--”

“Mary, please” he whimpered. “Your uncertainty kills me.”

“What would you have us do together, sir?”

“We can take a walk in the garden,” Andrew suggested. “I can show you where I found the azaleas.”

Mary looked down at the flower in her hand. “Alright…”

“Next time I see you, I’ll hold you to that promise. Good day, Mary.”

As soon as he said that, Mary spun on her heel and hurried down the hallway, trying to put distance between Mr. Lamb and herself. She didn’t like the dizziness she felt in his presence. She told Leona he was the handsomest man she had ever seen, and it was truer than ever. Mary never expected him to seek her out and engage her in conversation. What was he playing at?

As she headed down the hall, the door to Leona’s bedchamber flew open, and Leona’s head emerged in the doorway. “Mary! Ah! I wanted to see you. Will you come in for a moment?”

“Umm… of course.” Mary wondered if her face was still flushed.

“I’m not keeping you from some important task, am I?”

“Of course not, my lady. My most important task is to serve you.”

“Oh, Mary… when you say it like that, you make me feel like I haven’t a friend in the world!” Leona said with a sigh. “These past few weeks, I’ve… I’ve considered you a friend, Mary. You’re my
only
friend, more or less.”

Mary stepped into Leona’s room, took a deep breath, and tried to vanquish the image of Andrew’s smile from her head. “What about your husband? He seems to care about you a great deal.”

“I’m not so sure about that. If anything, I’ve been very unpleasant to him since I’ve been here,” Leona disagreed. “What surprises me more, is… well… I find myself caring for him more than I thought I would.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“We had a nice time today. He took me to the most beautiful place...”

“Where did he take you?” Mary asked, though her mind was buzzing with other thoughts.

“Any description I could provide wouldn’t do it justice. He took me to an old church. It was in shambles, but there was something beautiful about it… it… seemed like such a peaceful place.”

Mary wasn’t even listening. She looked down at the azalea in her hand, and she nearly lost her breath. Why in the world did Mr. Lamb want to spend time with her? Mary wondered if it was for lack of something better do to. Girls like her, plain and poor, were usually invisible to gentlemen like Andrew Lamb.

Leona was still talking, “For a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. I felt like I could tell him anything. Lord Randall, he… he really is a good, gentle man. It’s a shame I didn’t meet him sooner. Of course… the way I used to be, I’m sure I never would’ve paid any attention to him. Is it terrible of me to say that, Mary?”

“No, you’re being honest with yourself,” Mary managed a reply. “Honesty is always good.”

“Honesty…” Leona sighed. “Poor Tristan. I know I should be honest with him about everything, but I can’t. If I told him everything, his opinion of me would plummet. I don’t think I could stand to see the look on his face if I told him about… well, you know…”

“You’ll have to tell him eventually, won’t you?”


Will I?
” Leona asked. “My father didn’t seem to think so. Although… I suppose it would weigh very heavily on my conscience for the rest of my life if I
didn’t
tell him the truth. Not to mention, I… it would be impossible to execute my father’s plan at the moment, considering the fact that we haven’t… Lord Randall and I haven’t….” Leona laid face-down on her bed and groaned into her pillow. “I’m being vague, aren’t I?”

“I think I understand what you’re trying to say.”
“I’m supposed to pass off my child as his! That was my father’s plan,” Leona explained. “But… at this point in time, that would be impossible. I haven’t… we haven’t…”

“You don’t have to go into any more detail than that, my lady,” Mary assured her, twirling the azalea’s stem between her fingers.

“What’s that?”

“I said you didn’t have to go into detail,” Mary repeated herself.

Leona motioned toward the azalea. “No… what’s
that?
It’s pretty. Where did you get it?”

Mary swallowed hard, and her head buzzed even louder. She couldn’t tell Leona the truth, could she? Unlike her mistress, she was terrible at telling lies. “It was a… a gift.”

“A gift?” Leona pressed. “From whom?”

“F-from… Mr. Lamb,” Mary stuttered. “I passed him in the h-hallway and… he gave me a flower.”

“He did, did he?” Leona sat up, looking somewhat revived. “That was very nice of him.”

“Y-yes, I… suppose it was.”

“Is that why you’re blushing?”

“I am?”

“Like a schoolgirl,” Leona answered with a chuckle. “You’re very lucky, Mary. I wish someone would give
me
some flowers.”

“I can pick some flowers for you, my lady. I found some lovely vases the other day. It would certainly add color to your room.”

“Oh, Mary… you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. Having some flowers around the room might cheer you up.” She smiled at her mistress.

“You really are the kindest person,” Leona said. “I don’t deserve you, Mary.”

“Nonsense, my lady. I’ll go right now.” Mary bobbed a curtsy and fled from her mistress’ bedchamber. She wanted to be alone—to think about her exchange with Andrew Lamb. In spite of herself, she knew she was nurturing some feelings for him. It wasn’t love, of course, but it was certainly an infatuation. Her thoughts hadn’t been so consumed by a man since she was a little girl. She wasn’t the sort of person to succumb to youthful flutterings of the heart, and yet Andrew--

“I’m glad to hear it went well, Tristan.”

It was Andrew’s voice! He was heading in her direction again! Her head went numb at the thought of passing him in the hallway again, so she ducked into the nearest room and waited for Andrew to pass.

Andrew’s voice continued, “In a way, I wish I could’ve gone with you… although I’m quite sure I would have spoiled the mood. I’ve been dreadfully…” She could only hear parts of their conversation, so she pressed her ear to the door.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tristan said. “Does that mean you’re going back to London?”

Their voices stopped right in front of the door—and Mary’s heart missed a beat. They weren’t coming inside, were they?

“No, I’m not going, even though it’s tempting” said Andrew. “There isn’t much to do around here, and…”

“You miss the London belles?”

“Well… yes,” Andrew admitted. “There isn’t much to look at around here, is there? Well, aside from your pretty wife, that is. You know I wouldn't say no to a tumble with a maid, but…”

Mary’s shoulders fell, and so did her opinion of Andrew Lamb. He had almost fooled her with his saccharine tongue.

“Well, you won’t be bedding any maids under my roof. I wouldn’t allow it.”

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t,” Andrew added with a chuckle. “And if I did, I’d have to cover my eyes. The maids in this place are ghastly!”

BOOK: The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance)
6.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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