Page 9 of Maid for the Duke

As she swam Amelie was taken back to the carefree days of her childhood and she could almost imagine her mother sitting on the banks of the river back home, a blanket spread out, reading one of her French novels. Every so often she would glance up to ensure Amelie was still alive, but her mother had believed in letting her children find their own limits, so her supervision had been very minimal.

Today the conditions were perfect. The sun glinted off the water and the birds sang their morning chorus from the trees nearby. Amelie felt some of the worry start to lift from her. She had not planned to divulge quite so much to Lord Beescroft, but when he had asked her directly about her circumstances she had found she could not lie to him. There was something intense but trustworthy about him. She had initially thought his assessing gaze to be judgmental, but she now realised it had just been his expression of interest.

The Duke had been very reasonable, very respectful of her privacy when she had changed the subject away from her family, but the idea that he might have an inkling that there was something she did not wish anyone to know about her father was unsettling. There were some secrets too shameful to share. Hopefully, his reserved manner would stop him from asking any more.

She sighed as she pushed through the water. Privacy was important to her, but it had felt good to talk. In the year she had been employed in the Duke’s household, she had told no one the full truth of her circumstances. Mrs Potter knew she was supporting her kinsfolk, but Amelie had not told her the whole story, and she had kept her distance from the other maids, feeling as though she didn’t fit in.

There was no one she confided in any longer. When she had lived in Kent she’d had a small group of friends, young women she’d grown up with. Some had distanced themselves when the extent of her father’s debts and deception had become apparent. Amelie had never really blamed them—those years of early adulthood were important for young women, and anything that besmirched their name or hinted at connection to scandal might affect the likelihood of marriage proposals, and for some that would be catastrophic. Amelie had pushed away others herself, finding it too distressing to have other people witness her shame and her complete change in circumstance.

‘Enough,’ she told herself. The Duke needed her here in Grantchester and she knew she was doing a good job. He enjoyed the meals she made, and she ran the small household without any difficulty. It was wonderful to have small pockets of time throughout the day to herself, when the chores were all done and she was waiting for the Duke to return before starting to prepare dinner. He had struck up the conversation to be friendly, but now he knew a little about her he was hardly going to go digging around for more information.

After she had swum a good distance up the river she turned and allowed herself to float on the surface of the water. Slowly the current pushed her back towards the cottage garden.

Will woke with a start, pulled from his dreams with a jolt. At first he was unsure what had roused him, but then he heard it again: the faint splash of water coming from the bottom of the garden. He frowned, pushing himself upright in bed. It was early, too early for anyone to be rowing on the river, and as he listened he heard another splash, bigger this time.

Curiosity piqued, he rose, leaving his bedroom to look out of the window in the hall that had a view over the back garden. The glare of the sun made it impossible to see at first, but then he caught a glimpse of a body in the water.

For a moment he was paralysed, unable to do anything but stare at the unmoving form of Amelie, honey-blonde hair spread out behind her like riverweed, eyes closed and limbs still. As he watched, her body seemed to convulse, and then she disappeared under the water. A surge of panic ripped through him and, without stopping to pull on a shirt, he raced downstairs and out into the little garden.

His eyes darted back and forth across the surface of the water. Thankfully Amelie was clad in a white chemise which made her easy to spot and, without a moment’s hesitation, he plunged into the water and caught her in his arms, pulling her to the surface.

The relief he felt when she took a spluttering breath was instant and overwhelming and he held her a little tighter to his body. By the time he had her half on the bank, she had found her voice.

‘What are you doing?’ Amelie gasped, wiping water from her eyes and pushing her long, blonde away from her face. Her chemise was plastered to her body, the wet fabric clinging to every curve and leaving very little to the imagination. Will’s eyes raked over her, checking she was unharmed, unable to stop himself from noticing the details of her almost naked form.

‘What am I…?’ He blinked at her, still panting, water dripping from his hair into his eyes. ‘I thought you were drowning! You went under and—’

‘I was swimming,’ she interrupted, cheeks flushing a deep pink. She clutched the fabric of her chemise to her body, as if suddenly aware of how the material clung to her.

Will swallowed hard, dragging his eyes back to her face. His throat felt dry despite the river water trickling down it.

He tried to say something but nothing came out. After a moment, he cleared his throat. ‘Forgive me. I thought you were in danger.’

Amelie’s lips parted, her expression caught between indignation and laughter.

‘I see that,’ she said at last, her voice softer now. Her eyes came up to meet his and he felt a catch in his chest. For a long moment they stood there, Amelie half-in, half-out of the water, his hand on her waist, his body pressed against hers to stop her slipping down the bank.

It was an intimate position, too intimate, and eventually Will regained enough control of himself to step away. Amelie scrambled backwards onto the bank, her cheeks flushing, her hair hanging loose and wet about her shoulders. She looked like the most beautiful woman in the world just now and Will felt the urge to reach out, to climb from the river and kiss her.

With great effort he pulled his gaze away, turning slightly to give her some privacy as she got up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her rise and then hesitate before shaking her head and walking away.

Will sank a little further down into the water. He had an excellent visual memory and now the image of his maid almost naked was seared into his mind. He swallowed hard, trying to think of something else, anything else, to distract himself, but it was impossible.

Chapter Six

Amelie paused for a carriage to rumble past as she crossed over the cobbles of King’s Parade. Although she was a country girl through and through, she could not deny Cambridge was a magical city. It was so small that it was easy to see all the main sights in half an hour, but was filled with beautiful old buildings with wrought-iron gates that afforded glimpses of green lawns and pretty gardens in the courtyards beyond. Students in dark gowns strode purposefully past her, hurrying to get to their lectures on time, and a procession of choir boys walked serenely into the magnificence of King’s College Chapel.

She held her basket a little tighter as she approached the crush of Market Square. Over the last few weeks she had settled into a routine, walking in to Cambridge twice a week to buy anything she could not get in Grantchester. It was a lovely walk through the meadows alongside the river and she could be back at the little cottage within two hours of leaving. Today she needed some fresh vegetables, as well as bread and cheese, and the market did not disappoint. She loaded up her basket carefully, not wanting to squash anything on the walk back to Grantchester.

She enjoyed these moments of freedom, reminded of the carefree days before her father had allowed them to spiral into debt and their home had been taken from them. Back then Amelie had often walked into the local little town, basket on her arm, her sisters and brothers running alongside her.

As she left the crush of the city centre, she ambled along slowly, enjoying the sunshine. Inevitably her thoughts strayed to the events of the morning. Despite her best efforts she had not been able to go more than two minutes without thinking about how it had felt when Lord Beescroft pressed her against the bank, their bodies almost naked. It had been an intimate moment, unlike anything she had ever shared before with anyone, and even now she felt her cheeks flush at the memory.

The Duke was an attractive man. His fair hair and blue eyes perfectly complemented his tanned skin, and somehow he maintained a physique that an athlete would be proud of. Earlier by the river it had taken all her self-control to stop herself from reaching out and running a hand over his muscled torso.

Amelie let out a little groan. This was entirely inappropriate, and messy. She had to live in close quarters with the man for the next three months; the last thing she needed was to be attracted to him.

‘At least nothing will happen,’ she murmured, almost laughing at the idea that a Duke would even notice a lowly maid.