Page 14 of Maid for the Duke

It was to one of these trees that Amelie directed his attention. He could see movement and, as they crept closer, he was amazed to realise there were three foxes eating something off the ground. Amelie still had not released his hand and Will could not be the one to break contact, even as they came to a standstill.

‘I’ve been leaving some scraps out for a few nights now and watching,’ Amelie whispered, her lips close to his ear. He felt a shiver run through his body and had to suppress the urge to reach out and pull her to him. It was entirely inappropriate. He was her master, and there was a gulf of social standing between them, but even so he found it hard to ignore her. There was something captivating about Amelie and, as hard as he tried, he could not control his body’s response to her. ‘I thought it might help with your drawings.’

‘You did this for me?’ His voice was gruff and low; even to his ears it sounded different, foreign.

She looked up at him. They were standing close, so close he could smell the sweet scent of her. He wanted to reach out and touch the silky softness of her hair, to allow his fingers to trail over the skin of her neck, to drop lower…

He swallowed and his eyes snapped up; that way ruin lay. He was a gentleman, and had always prided himself on being a decent man. Not the sort of person who gave in to desire and seduced his maid. Yet…

‘I think it is a mother and her two cubs,’ Amelie whispered, not answering his question. ‘Look how she ensures they are fed before taking her own food.’

He was aware of every movement of Amelie’s body beside his. It took all his self-control not to groan as her arm brushed against his, all his resolve to keep his eyes fixed on the foxes as he sensed her close.

‘If you are still having trouble with the foxes, or any of the animals, I would be happy to…’

He spun to face her, the movement startling her and cutting off her words. They were face to face, only inches apart, her eyes expectantly raised to his. His gaze flickered to her lips and he imagined the softness, the sweetness, of her kiss and he felt himself swaying in.

He quickly took a step back, trying to break the spell, but even at a distance the pull between them was undeniable.

‘I’m sorry, Your Grace,’ Amelie said. ‘I did not mean to offend you.’ She looked perplexed, upset even, but he did not have the words to explain why he was acting so strangely without admitting he could not stand close to her or there was a risk he would ravish her on the lawn behind the cottage.

‘You have not offended me,’ he said. The best thing for him to do would be walk away. To thank her for her kindness in thinking of him, trying to help him overcome his difficulties in drawing the fox for his work, then quickly move somewhere he could not see her, could not smell her, could not reach out and touch her.

She stepped closer and Will had to work hard not to retreat backwards. She was still speaking softly, conscious of the foxes only a few feet away.

‘Is something amiss, Your Grace?’ There was such kindness in her eyes, such sincerity in her voice, that Will found his resolve slipping. He did not want to upset her, and storming off for no reason would certainly be a cruel move, especially when everything she had done this evening had been motivated by kindness. He would have to trust himself. He knew what was right and what was wrong; all he needed to do was stick to his morals.

He was saved from answering by the biggest of the three foxes looking up and giving a sharp bark. The two cubs responded immediately, grabbing hold of the last of the food in their jaws and then returning to their mother’s side. With a last look in the direction of the cottage, the foxes turned and scampered away, disappearing into the darkness without another sound.

‘They’re beautiful,’ Amelie said, her eyes shining.

‘They are.’ Will took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep looking off into the darkness. It felt like torture to have her stand so close, to know he could reach out and touch her, but also to know he shouldn’t.

‘Do you think it will help, with your drawings?’

‘I think it will,’ he said simply, feeling her eyes upon him. He wondered if she felt any of the turmoil he did. On the banks of the river earlier that morning, he’d thought he detected a hint of attraction in her eyes, and when he had emerged from Peterhouse this afternoon she had blushed as if she’d been both pleased and a little embarrassed to see him.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself silently. It would not matter if she was indifferent to him or if she felt this same flicker of attraction. His actions needed to be the same no matter what.

‘And, if not, am I to understand you would not mind lending your skilled hand to the project?’

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her pull an odd face.

‘Hardly skilled, but I am happy to submit a picture if you would permit me. I always preferred watercolours, but I can sketch reasonably well.’

‘I do not want to take advantage of you…’

She turned abruptly at this and now he was forced to look at her. He swallowed hard, watching as she searched his face for meaning.

‘In truth it would be a pleasure,’ she said after a moment. Her voice was low and, even though he knew it couldn’t be so, he thought he heard a hint of seductiveness in her tone. Then she shrugged and he knew he had picked up on a reflection of his own feelings, nothing more. ‘I have not indulged in anything artistic since I came to London.’

‘Has your work not allowed it?’ he said, feeling a moment of guilt for the gulf between them.

‘Life as a servant is certainly busy, but I think more than anything else my heart was too pained to do anything but survive.’ She gave him a quick smile. ‘Gosh, that sounds very pretentious, doesn’t it? I suppose what I mean is that I was in shock, unable to do anything more than what was necessary for survival. I love reading, but I have not read a single page in over a year either.’

‘You have been mourning for the loss of your previous life.’ Amelie pressed her lips together and he saw the tears in her eye. ‘Forgive me,’ he said, stepping closer. ‘I did not wish to cause you pain.’

She shook her head. ‘You have only spoken the truth. I feel guilt for feeling such self-pity. For many years I lived a charmed life, a life of leisure. Even now, I have a reliable post, a way to support my kin. So many people are more unfortunate, those born into poverty with no way to escape it.’