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“But your mother said-”
“I am not in my mother’s house,” Aidan bellowed. “This is my house, and I am not going to be bullied into taking that stuff.”
Before she could come at him with the spoon again, he yanked it out of her hand and threw it across the room, then snatched the bottle of Laudanum out of her hand and threw that after it. Oblivious to the smashing of the bottle against the hearth, he turned almost wild eyes her and ignored his aching back as he leaned across the bed.
Edwards paused for a moment as though she was contemplating what to do. She hesitated, straightened her shoulders, and glared at him.
Aidan knew, at that moment, that he had a bigger problem on his hands than he had first realised. Edwards was not going to be shifted. Unfortunately, he was not in the position at the moment to be able to march her out of the house, and she intended to use it to her advantage.
Edwards pierced him with a smug look.
“I am not employed by you. The good lady dowager has hired me to take care of you and has told me that I have to remain in this house until you are well again. She said you would try to throw me out. I am here to help you whether you like it or not. I am afraid that until the dowager releases me, I have to remain here to fulfil my duty to her. If you have a problem with that, speak to her.”
Aidan groaned inwardly when her tone turned sultry, and her gaze dropped meaningfully to his bare chest. He ground his back teeth together in an attempt to keep his ferocious temper in check. She had made it clear throughout his convalescence in London that she would be willing to accommodate a much more personal interest should he be prepared but, as far as he was concerned, he would never be that desperate. She just wasn’t his type. There was something cold, almost conniving about her that he didn’t trust, and didn’t like to see in any woman.
He lowered his voice to a growl. “Ring the bell. I want Rollo.”
She didn’t. “I am sure I can cater to your every need,” she drawled silkily.
“You are not my blasted butler. Get me Rollo this instant.” He deliberately kept his voice cold and hard.
Insanely, when she merely continued to gaze raptly at his chest, he felt the wild urge to tug the sheet up to his chin. For the first time in his life, he actually felt like he was being hunted. He now had full sympathy with women who were hounded into marriage by amorous suitors, and could empathise with terrified mai
dens pursued by lecherous men out for what they could get. In his case, the lustful person after his body wore a dress and called herself his nurse.
Over my dead body, he muttered silently.
“Rollo. Now.” He demanded coldly and watched in affronted silence, with his arms crossed over his bared chest, her tug the bell pull.
Later that night, Petal lay in bed, desperate for some sleep. Unfortunately, it was the one thing that eluded her. In the quiet of the bedroom, the only sound that could be heard was Aggy’s soft snoring beside her. The room was cold because the wood within the fire did little to heat the chill within the chamber, but she couldn’t be bothered to leave the warmth of the bed to put more on. Instead, she snuggled deeper into the thick covers in search of heat. While she did warm through a little, it had no effect on her ability to sleep.
She stared at the ceiling with a sigh. Minutes later she turned onto her side. While watching the flickering of the scant flames in the hearth, her thoughts turned inevitably to an aspect of her work she had never thought to consider – laying the master’s fire. It was to be the first thing she did in the morning, and the last thing she did before going to bed. She was reluctant to admit it, even to herself, but it was partly why she was so restless. Having to go to his room so often was proving to be a tad awkward. It was a necessary part of her job, there was no way out of it. Thankfully, today, he had been sound asleep each time she had attended. However, she knew the time would come when he would be awake when she was in his room. What then? What was she to say, or do, if he chose to stare at her again the way he had done earlier?
Everyone had had a different opinion about why he had singled her out. Some had hinted it was because she was young. Others had said it was just curiosity. The men had suggested it was because she was pretty. Then the teasing had begun. She had endured the lot with alacrity, but now hoped he would be awake when she went to his room next so she could stop fretting about what he would do the next time she saw him. She would then be able to decide for herself what it had all been about.
She couldn’t quite ignore the invisible pull of attraction she felt toward him, in spite of the differences in them, but there was no reason why she had to let it affect her work. The new master of the household was, by far, the most handsome she had seen in her life. She should be able to just acknowledge her attraction to him on a feminine level and get on with her duties as any other good servant would.
With the matter settled in her mind, for now, she turned her attention to the second rather unexpected event of the day; Edwards’ appearance at the dinner table. Flopping onto her back, she stared blankly at the ceiling and contemplated the altercation she had witnessed earlier.
“Your place is here at the table with the rest of us,” Mrs Kempton reported briskly when Edwards had demanded dinner in her room.
The housekeeper’s tone made it clear that she expected no argument. Unfortunately, this was lost on Edwards, who glared at her in dispassionate disgust.
“Am I to take it that I am expected to dine here, with the below stairs servants?” Her contempt was portrayed in the glare she slid across everyone seated at the table.
“If you want to eat in this house you do,” Mrs Kempton snorted.
The atmosphere within the room thickened as tension began to build. Everyone continued to eat although with considerably more wariness than they had before Edwards’ appearance at the end of the table.
Determined to assert her authority, Edwards levelled a cold stare on the woman that could have frozen marble.
“I shall eat in my room. Send a tray immediately, and in future, all of my meals will be taken in my room.”
“There is an empty tray over there,” Mrs Kempton said with a nod toward the kitchen behind them. She then resumed her meal, making no attempt to help her, or carry the tray as ordered.
“I beg your pardon?” Edwards demanded dourly.
The housekeeper turned a glare on her. “You are a servant in this house; here to do the master’s bidding with the medication and the like. You don’t help bathe him, Rollo does. You don’t do anything in the room, Petal does. You are here to count the Laudanum bottles, and assist the master with the things that doctor in London told him to do, like getting him to sit up out of bed. That is why you are staying in the servant’s quarters with the rest of us. The master instructed it. You aren’t a guest here so there is no reason for you to warrant having the staff here carry trays to your room, or do anything for you. You eat with us, and that is the end of it.”
