Page 7 of What Lies Beneath

“Very good, my lord,” she said politely, bowing her head and walking to the door.

He followed in her wake, and the knowledge made the fine hairs on the back of Regina’s neck prickle. She felt as if his eyes were upon her as she moved, which she knew was ridiculous, but she was suddenly conscious of every sway of her hips, of the way her skirts swished as she made her way down the stairs. By the time they reached the garden, she was thoroughly out of sorts, despite telling herself she was being a ninny. To compound her discomfort, the earl offered her his arm, just as though she was his equal, and they were at a garden party.

She balked at the offer, walking past him and into the garden without a word. Regina heard his soft laugh and wondered what he was playing at.

“You are determined to keep me in my place, I see,” he said, and she did not look back, not wishing to see the way his eyes crinkled when he was amused.

It was far too appealing an expression and made him seem almost human, rather than a being far beyond her reach. He’s not beyond my reach, she reminded herself, for she was the granddaughter of a duke herself, and was so startled by the thought she blushed. Good heavens. As if she would ever consider making a match with such a man. She would rather die than tie herself to someone who was incapable of fidelity.

“I beg your pardon. I did not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

Regina looked at the earl then, realising he believed her blush was because he had overstepped the mark. She shook her head.

“It is of no matter, my lord. Only the servants would talk if they saw. It would not do for them to see us looking too comfortable together. I am already a misfit, neither fish nor fowl.” Regina bit her lip, furious with herself. What the devil was she thinking, saying such a thing out loud? Not that it wasn’t true, but that she had told him…!

He nodded, though, understanding at once. “Of course. I have often thought it must be difficult for you, not belonging entirely to either world. You are neither a servant nor a member of the family. Yet I hope you realise you are more than a mere employee. Tilly adores you,” he added.

Regina looked at him in surprise. Though she knew it was no more than the truth, to hear him say it was a revelation, and that she was more than a ‘mere employee.’ That was a great compliment from a man who rarely spoke effusively.

“Thank you,” she said, too pleased to do otherwise, but a little bewildered by where this was going. “You wished to speak to me?” she reminded him, hoping he would get to the point.

He nodded, but did not do so, the two of them walking down a path that took them under a rose arbour. It was a ridiculously romantic setting, blush pink roses in full bloom, their heady scent surrounding them as stray petals fell to the ground.

“Are you happy here, Mrs Harris?” he asked suddenly, his demeanour suddenly serious. “As I said, I have often remarked your situation is a difficult one, but it never occurred to me that—that you might be lonely.”

Regina gaped at him, too astonished by this to say a word. It had been shocking enough to know that the earl had even considered her position in the household, let alone troubled himself to understand how precarious it was, balancing her position with the family alongside her position with the servants. The housekeeper would deign to take tea and chat with her now and then, considering herself a step above the others, but even she seemed a little uneasy in her presence. No matter her disguise, her bearing and accent proclaimed Regina’s status as a lady, and yet she must work to earn her crust.

“Lonely?” she repeated, as if she could not understand the word, and in some ways she did not, for spoken in the earl’s cultured tones and directed at her, she hardly knew what to say.

“It is still not a trick,” he said, sounding just a little impatient now, or was that frustration? “I am not about to throw you out if you admit to dissatisfaction with your position here. I would not have asked if I did not wish for an honest answer. I have never known you to be anything less than forthright, after all,” he added, a wry tone to his voice that made her smile.

Regina tried to hide the expression, but her lips must have twitched, for he snorted. “Oh, yes. I can still feel the sting of many a set down, Mrs Harris. I wonder that Tilly adores you so when you can instil such terror into well aimed rebuke.”

“You seem to have survive unscathed,” she observed, before she could think better of speaking so rudely to him. She opened her mouth to apologise, but he answered before she could do so.

“That’s what you think,” he retorted, his gaze holding hers. “However, I am adept at hiding my wounds.”

Regina stared at him, a strange sense of exhilaration thrumming beneath her skin. He spoke with the utmost seriousness, though she knew he was funning, and yet… and yet there was something that felt like honesty there too. Oh, how confusing this was, and yet she did not wish to end the encounter, too curious to know where it would lead, what else the earl might say to her while in this strange mood.

“I did not know my words were capable of piercing your armour,” she said, discovering her words were muddled too, at once teasing and sincere.

“My self-consequence, you mean,” he corrected gravely. “And, indeed. From the first day we met, I have been in no doubt of the contempt in which you hold me.”

Now Regina blushed, appalled by his words, which were entirely true. Whilst she had mellowed towards him somewhat over the years, upon seeing the sincerity of his devotion to his daughter and his family, and the respectful way he treated everyone in his household, she had never hidden her scorn of him and what she had once thought of as his dissolute lifestyle. No, he was not a libertine, but neither was he settled with a wife and a family as he surely ought to be by now, for he was no longer a young buck but a man grown.

“Oh, no,” he said, watching her open her mouth and holding up a hand. “Do not trouble yourself to deny it. We both know it is true, though I hope perhaps I have risen just a little in your estimation during the time we have known each other. No, no,” he added hurriedly, though laughter danced in his eyes. “Do not pretend that it is more than a very little, for I shall not believe you.”

Regina could hardly believe it herself, but Ashburton was jesting with her, and poking fun at himself whilst doing so. Though it felt rash and somewhat dangerous, the desire to joust verbally with him was more than she could resist.

“Well,” she said, giving a remorseful sigh. “Perhaps just the smallest amount. A soupçon,” she suggested.

Ashburton considered this, apparently with the utmost sincerity. “A soupçon,” he agreed. “That seems fair.”

Regina covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile, but the earl missed nothing.

“You see how meek I have become after so many years of your censure.”

“Oh, surely not, my lord,” she protested, laughing now. “That I cannot believe.”