03 - The Wicked Lady Page 3

  Had Trevor sold her? Just who was this Duke? She'd have her answers in a few minutes. One way or another.

  She walked down the staircase holding onto Hagan's hand, and just for a moment another picture of a woman and a little girl moving down a staircase flashed through her mind. They both had hair the color of her own. She grasped the handrail and stopped. All her life she'd had these little flashes of what she assumed had been a life she couldn't remember, but she'd never made any sense of them.

  "Why'd you stop?"Hagan asked.

  "Huh?"

  Hagan stared at her, baffled. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. Just felt a wee bit dizzy. Come on. Let's go find His Worship." At the bottom, she didn't have the slightest idea where they should go, and she almost tried to find the door instead. But if she could give her brother a better kind of life, she'd wait and see what happened.

  A maid of some sort came around the corner so Kristen asked, "Can ye tell me where tae get breakfast?"

  The girl was pert, of medium height, with a short blonde bob. She sparkled when she smiled. "You must be new around here."

  "Aye we are, and don't have the foggiest idea where we should go."

  "I was the same way when I first came here, but the house is easy to learn." The girl pointed. "Just go through that door and down a hallway to the kitchen and they'll help you. My name is Rebecca, mum. I have to hurry now."

  "Thank you." Kristen smiled as the cheerful young woman hurried off in a different direction.

  Kristen and Hagan moved down the hall. She opened a huge wooden door and the quietness of the house evaporated as the busy sounds of the kitchen surrounded them. There was a big hearth with a roaring fire and steaming pots. To her right stood a long table where several people sat eating and laughing.

  "I'm hungry, Kristen." Hagan pulled at her hand. "Something sure smells good."

  Kristen cleared her throat. "Is this where we eat?"

  "If yer hungry, it is. Get two plates and have a seat, love." The largest woman motioned with a fork.

  Kristen fixed Hagan some toast, and they settled down at the table listening to the girls' gossip about the duke.

  "He's a fine one. I wouldn't mind one bit if he looked in my direction."

  "Don't you be dreaming, Fanny. Did you see Lady Bonnie? She looked crushed when His Grace said it was over between them. and before that it was Lady Sarah."

  "She just knew--" The older woman stopped and looked at Hagan. "We should talk of something else since we've a lad present."

  Fanny's face flushed. "Yer right. Are ye going to be an upstairs maid or a downstairs maid?"

  Kristen set down her piece of toast. "I'm not sure. Ye see, I was on a ship yesterday, and this morning I find myself in a strange house. I haven't met his lordship, so I canna say."

  "Aye, a real big ship." Hagan held his hands wide.

  The kitchen door opened and the woman Kristen had seen upstairs came in. Lord have mercy. I've found you!"

  Kristen jumped up. "I'm sorry, but ye're the one that told us we should have breakfast."

  The woman came and stood in front of Kristen. "I've turned this house upside down looking for you both, and His Grace is now in a snit." She threw up her hands in disgust.

  "Then we'll be leaving." Kristen grabbed Hagan's hand, but he refused to give up his toast, so she got a handful of jelly as she snatched him to his feet and started for the door, not taking time to wipe her hand.

  "No, no!" The panic in the woman's voice grew. "He's upset because he thinks you've left. You are simply in the wrong room, please follow me."

  Since the woman put it that way, Kristen decided to stick it out and thanked everyone at the table. She noticed they looked at her strangely, but they seemed a nice group of people anyway.

  Still grasping her brother in one hand and trying to hide her other sticky hand, she followed the woman.

  They entered a huge room that had a very long dining table and three chandeliers. Sitting at one end of the table was Trevor, only he looked very different.

  When they entered, he placed his napkin on the table and came slowly to his feet. He wore cream colored breeches, a dark blue coat, and gleaming Hessian boots that came to his knees. His hair was neatly combed and fell below his collar. He didn't resemble the carefree sea captain she'd met yesterday. Now, he looked arrogant, very rich, and a touch irritated. She hadn't missed that look. She wondered what role he had with the duke. Maybe he was an earl or one of those other titles she couldn't remember. Then she frowned. On second thought, he didn't fit any of the above.

  "I see you've found them, Mrs. Ditchfield."

  "I'm sorry, Yer Grace, seems there was a misunderstanding and they were in the kitchen. It won't happen again, sir. If you had only given us a little notice, I could have informed the staff of our guests' presence."

  Trevor felt a moment of relief, followed by one of irritation. He'd thought the girl had run away, and he'd been ready to go out and search all of London for her. And he would have found her, too. Nothing could have stopped him!

  Then he had to ask himself, why? She was someone he barely knew, but someone he wanted to know better for whatever the reason.

  "Yes, I know how you like to be prepared, Mrs. Ditchfield, but this time I couldn't send you advance notice. Please have their breakfast served while it is hot."

  Kristen breathed in a shallow, quick gasp. "Yer Grace?" Kristen wrinkled her nose while she looked at him as if he had grown horns.

  "At your service." He reached out and took her hand, but recoiled immediately. "What the--"

  "Jelly," she replied.

  "We have linen for wiping one's hand." He wiped his hand, then tried to hand her a napkin.

  She ignored him. "Yer Grace," she repeated.

  With a tip of his head, he motioned her to the chair beside him. "That's right, Kristen. Welcome to my home. At least, my London home."

  "But I thought you were a captain?" Hagan said with as much disappointment as his sister had shown. He climbed up in his chair. "I liked that ship."

  Trevor had never bumped into anyone who wasn't impressed by his title . . . now he had two very unimpressed people at his breakfast table. "That is my ship, young man, and I sail once or twice a year, but my main estate is on the Scottish border. You will get to see my ship again. I promise."

  "And yer a duke?" Kristen still had a strong look of distaste on her face.

  "I'm afraid so." He nodded and chuckled at her. How refreshing! "You seem to have a problem with that small fact."

  A woman appeared and placed two plates in front of her, one filled with fresh fruit and the other muffins and meat. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had fruit. "I don't know. e just didn't seem so high and mighty last night."

  "If that was a compliment . . ." His brow rose a fraction. ". . . then, thank you. But you shouldn't judge me by a title. I didn't judge--"

  "Didn't ye now. Ye thought I was a thief."

  He chuckled. "You are. Or were."

  "Well, ye have me on that count, but ye thought I was a bad girl right away. And don't be botherin' to deny it. I could see the truth in yer eyes. Ye didn't even like my Scottish heritage." She shook a fork at him, and Trevor was quite thankful she didn't have a knife at the moment. "I can see ye don't need the likes of me."

  "That's where you are wrong!" he stated very emphatically. "We had a bargain, and I intend to hold you to the agreement." He thought a moment, rubbing his chin. "Unless you've decided you would prefer jail to my company?"

  "What's a bargain, Kristen?" Hagan asked, a purple ring of jelly very prevalent around his mouth.

  She had forgotten her brother who looked like a chipmunk with his pouches packed. "Don't talk with yer mouth full. A bargain is an agreement made between tae people saying each will do what they promise."

  "Is that what you do when you get married--make agreements?"

  "That's exactly what a marriage is." Trevor smiled. "You are a very smart, lad
. With a bit of schooling you'll be brilliant when you're bigger."

  "What's brilliant?"

  "It means very, very smart. And that's enough questions," Kristen said a little exasperated. "Now back tae our agreement. I canna possibly fit into yer world. Look around ye." She swept the room with her hand. "Then look at us. 'Tis quite evident we don't belong. Even yer staff thought I was a new servant."

  "You belong where I say you belong," he stated firmly and then softened his voice. "Sometimes it merely takes the right trappings to make someone fit in. We are going to remedy a lot of your problems today. We will visit Eva Marie, the dressmaker, and you'll be fitted with the finest clothes money can buy. I have also persuaded Eva to give you some lessons in the proper dos and don'ts.'"

  "And who is Eva Marie?" Kristen asked.

  "She owns a dress shop in London. Only the highest born ladies can afford to shop there."

  "What about me?" Hagan butted in with a child's impatience. "Can I come,too?"

  "You, young man, will accompany me while your sister is busy with Mistress Eva Marie."

  " 'Tis tae much." Kristen stood. “I could never repay ye."

  "You are going to repay me by becoming my wife." Trevor picked up a bell and rung it. Immediately, a lady in a white cap appeared.

  "Yes, Your Grace?"

  "Please take Master Hagan to his room for a bath and prepare him for our outing."

  "What does Master mean? Everybody usually calls me Hagan."

  Trevor chuckled. "I can see you're full of whats, but I must admit, it is a good way to learn."

  "Yeah, you said I'm going to be brilliant, 'member?"

  "That I did." Trevor stood, placing his napkin on the table. Hagan was a true gem, Trevor thought. And adorable, but strangely enough, he didn't resemble his sister at all.

  "Miss Ruby will answer your questions while she takes you upstairs," Trevor said.

  Just as they left the room Kristen heard Hagan say, "I don't like baths."

  "His whats will try a saint." She turned her attention back to Claremont. "I don't understand why ye want us."

  Obviously, she'd never studied her reflection. Even dressed in rags, she was beautiful, but that wasn't why he'd made the bargain. He really wasn't sure as to his reasons, and he didn't want to reflect on them at this time, but he had to tell her something.

  "We've been through this before. I need a wife without a lot of fuss and bother. You need a home, and so does your brother. I don't usually take charity cases, but this is different. You owe me, and I have a hole in my shoulder to prove it. It's bad enough you were a thief, but do you know the penalty for the attempted murder of a duke?"

  "I wasn't trying tae murder ye," Kristen answered stubbornly. "The aim was much tae high."

  He moved closer, looking down at her intensely. "Would you like to debate the issue?"

  "Nay."

  "Then I suggest you drop the subject, and I don't want to hear anything more about our deal. I think you'll come to like our bargain."

  "Your Grace." The young girl who had sent Kristen to the kitchen entered and curtsied. She stood waiting for Trevor to recognize her, but his gaze stayed on Kristen.

  After a moment, he said, his eyes still on Kristen, "Rebecca, I would like for you to meet Lady Kristen."

  Kristen turned to face the girl.

  "How do you do, mum?" Rebecca curtsied and Kristen almost laughed, but she didn't want to embarrass the girl whose face was as red as a newly fallen September apple.

  "I would like you to be lady's maid to Lady Kristen,” Trevor said. “I was told that you have been trained in such things."

  "Yes, Your Grace, I have." Rebecca finally smiled. "I'd be honored to assist your lady."

  "Good." He nodded. "Please prepare her bath. We are planning an outing today."

  After Rebecca had left, Kristen couldn't hold her tongue any longer. "Are ye daft? I've been dressin' myself for the last fifteen years, and me mother dressed me before that. I don't need any assistance in getting in and out of my clothes."

  "I can see you're going to argue every little thing, and at times will try my patience as you're doing now." His eyes were dark and unfathomable as he moved until he stood right in front of her. "You do need a lady's maid. Every proper lady has one, and when we go later today to have garments made, you'll see a vast difference in your wardrobe with many hooks and buttons. And, I've been hoping, perhaps praying, that Eva Marie can soften some of these hard edges of yours."

  "Hard edges?" Her wide-eyed innocence looked out of place as her hands went to her hips. "Have ye just insulted me?"

  He grinned. "Of course not. e are going to turn you into a very proper lady."

  "I can picture me now sitting at some fancy table, having tea and crumpets. But I don't need a lady's maid when God gave me two good hands tae work with," she continued primly.

  "Damn, if you are not hardheaded. It isn't proper. You do need a maid. You might consider the fact that if you turn down Rebecca, she'll have no place to go and she won't be able to get a job when everyone hears The Duke of Chatsworth turned down her services."

  " 'Tis a big head ye have." She grinned mischievously. "But since ye've put it that way, I'll keep her."

  "Thank you," he answered dryly. Then he smiled in the way that made her knees weak. "Now run along and get ready for your big day. We've much to accomplish."

  When Kristen went to her room, she found a large tub completely filled with steaming water and scented soap.

  Rebecca flitted about the room, gathering bath sheets and soap. "Will your bags be coming later, mum?"

  "Nay."

  "Then they are already here?"

  "Nay."

  "I--I don't understand." Rebecca's brow creased into a frown.

  "I only have the clothes I am wearing," Kristen admitted, but she noticed her new maid was still frowning, and Kristen couldn't think of a nice way to tell her that she could be a maid, herself. " 'Tis a long story. My clothes were lost," Kristen finally offered. She smiled as Rebecca accepted the lie.

  "Here let me help you undress." The maid moved toward her.

  "Rebecca, I'd like tae be honest. I'm goin' tae have tae get used tae having a lady's maid."

  Rebecca twisted her hands together, her distress showing in her face. "You're not going to send me away?"

  "Nay, of course not." Kristen patted the girl's hand to reassure her.

  After Kristen had removed her clothing, she slipped into the tub. "Saints be praised, this is heaven," she sighed, gliding all the way under.

  "Oh, mum, you're not hurt?" Rebecca's voice was horrified as she pulled Kristen back up by the hair.

  Kristen gave a carefree laugh, thinking it was the first time she'd felt this way in a long, long time. "I think I've died and gone tae heaven." She sighed, wiping the bubbles from her eyes.

  "It's only a bath, mum."

  "Tae ye maybe, but tae me, 'tis heaven. Ye wouldn't believe how many cold baths I've taken. Would you help me wash my hair?"

  "See, now you're getting the hang of it." Rebecca smiled for the first time and finally that worried look she'd been displaying disappeared.

  "I guess yer right."

  As Rebecca lathered Kristen's hair, she said, "I want to thank you for not saying anything about me sending you to the kitchen."

  "The way I see it," Kristen reached over and took Rebecca's hand in hers, "we're going tae be friends." Kristen squeezed Rebecca's arm. "I'll protect ye, and ye can protect me. Deal?"

  "Deal."

  "Ye know, I've never had a friend before."

  Rebecca broke into an open, friendly smile. "Well, you have one now."

  When the bath was finished -- much to Kristen's disappointment -- she sat patiently while Rebecca dried her hair in front of the fireplace. It was the end of March and the air still held the sting of cold. She felt so guilty indulging in all this pampering. Quickly, she banished the thought. She was probably dreaming, and someone was bound to wake her
up shortly.

  "You have beautiful hair, mum."

  "I don't like it. 'Tis much tae thick and it 'tisn't the same color like everyone else's. I wish it was a lovely brown or black."

  "But that's what makes it so different. It shimmers like gold, yet it sparkles with fire. When we have more time, I'll arrange it in a different way for you."

  "I guess I better get dressed so we can go out." Kristen stood up, dreading to put back on her old dress, but knowing she had no choice. "Have ye ever been tae this place before?"

  "Oh no, mum." Rebecca rushed over to get Kristen's dress. "But I get to go with you today to help advise you." She held the dress up for Kristen. "I'm kind of excited to be going for an outing."

  "It will be nice tae have your company."

  "Do you want to see yerself in the looking glass before we go?"

  "Looking glass?"

  "Yes, mum. To see how you look." Rebecca pointed to the mirror at the far end of the room. Kristen hadn't even noticed it this morning.

  Rebecca’s eyebrows raised inquiringly. "Surely you've seen your reflection before?"

  Kristen felt her checks heat. "Actually, I've only seen myself in store windows. We never had need of such things."

  Rebecca took Kristen's elbow and guided her to the long mirror. "Well, it is truly a shame because you are very beautiful."

  Kristen stared at her reflection with the fascination of a child seeing something truly rare for the first time. Hesitantly, she reached up and touched her face. When had she grown up? The years all seemed a blur, and it was sad to think that she didn't remember any of them being happy.

  "Why do you look so sad?" Rebecca said, bringing Kristen out of her trance. "You have to be pleased with a face like yours."

  "I know this sounds silly . . ." Kristen touched her cheeks. "But 'tis hard tae believe 'tis really me." She turned to her new friend. "I've not lived a very normal life, I'm afraid."

  The connecting door sprang open, and Hagan barged in. "Did you have to take a bath too, Kristen?"

  Kristen's hand fell to her side, the mirror forgotten. "Aye, the tub 'twas a big one."

  "Aye. I told that Ruby lady that I could wash myself 'cause I'm a big boy."

  "You are that." Rebecca smiled.