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He smiled at the pink marring her pretty face. “What brings you to me, Mrs. Kingsford?”
“Your grace, it is a small favor,” she replied, clasping her hands in front of her.
He chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “Then, it should be easy to grant.”
Her blush deepened. “Your grace, it is about my little cousin. Her employer passed away a month ago and she is currently without a job. As you know, being a servant in a great household is the preferred occupation choice among poor commoners like myself. I was hoping to get her a job here.”
Rorke nodded. “You have my permission, Mrs. Kingsford. I would like to meet your cousin,” he said, and she bowed again, hands pressed together as if in prayer.
“Thank you, Your Grace!” she gushed.
“What is your cousin’s name, and how old is she?” the Duke asked.
“Penny. Her name is Penny Bradford. She is twenty years old, Your Grace,” Mrs. Kingsford replied.
“Well, then, she isn’t so little now, is she?” Rorke teased.
“Welcome home, Your Grace.” It was a chorus of warm greetings as the Duke stepped out of his coach. He’d had a long day of haggling with pompous merchants that had been trying to swindle his farmers. He pasted a smile on his face to reassure his servants.
His eyes locked on a breathtaking young maid. She had golden locks woven into intricate braids on her head, flawless skin topping a slender neck. The swell of her bosom was detectable beneath the traditional servant garb, and he swallowed hard and flicked his eyes back up to her face.
“Welcome home, Your Grace,” Mrs. Kingsford said, and stepped out from behind the young woman. “This is my little cousin, Penny Bradford.”
“Thank you for allowing my employment, my lord,” Penny said, her voice a breathy soprano.
Gooseflesh sprung up on the back of the Duke’s neck at the sound of my lord escaping her lips. “Pleasure, Miss Bradford,” he replied, and took her hand, placing a soft kiss on the knuckle. “I trust you’ve found everything to your liking.”
“Oh, very much, my lord.” She nodded emphatically, and straightened her shoulders. Her wide, innocent blue eyes made his breath catch in his throat, and he chose to ignore the smirk on Mrs. Kingsford’s face.
Rorke was delighted to find that Penny had been assigned as a chambermaid to his very chambers. He could have requested her, of course, but that may have been a bit too forward. As it turned out, Mrs. Kingsford seemed to not only sense his desires, but want to foster them.
The young maid was very good at her job, keeping everything perfectly clean and always having everything ready for him, sometimes before he asked. She was quiet as a mouse and he couldn’t have asked for a better servant.
“Thank you, Penny,” he said as she set his dinner down for him.
She graced him with a bright, genuine smile. “You’re welcome, my lord,” she replied, with a little curtsy. As she turned to wait in the kitchen, she could feel the weight of his gaze on her back, and, not for the first time, wished it was the weight of his hands.
The handsome young Duke was kind to his servants and an incredibly pleasant and generous employer. The beautiful young maid couldn’t help but enjoy the view, and the fantasies brewing in her own mind.
Penny Bradford knocked lightly on the Duke’s chamber door, and inserted her key into the lock. “My lord,” she called softly. He’d asked her to wake him at 6:30 am to write some letters, which was rather early for him. She didn’t want to startle him out of sleep.
“Come in, sweet Penny,” he replied, and in turn, startled her.
“You’re awake,” she said as she entered the room. She fought the blush creeping up her cheeks at the fact that he’d called her sweet. He was already sitting at his writing desk, though still clad in his cream coloured sleep clothes.
“Yes, I am. Leave the windows. Why don’t you come sit with me?” he offered.
Penny set down her cleaning basket and walked stiffly to his desk. She’d never shirked duties to sit with a nobleman before, but it was alright if he asked her to, right? She tried to ignore the fact that she did, desperately, want an excuse to be near the handsome young Duke.
Rorke pulled another wooden chair from beside the desk and set it beside him.
She sank into it slowly, swallowing her trepidation. “My lord...”
He lifted his hand and pressed his finger to her delectable lips. “Call me, Rorke. Please,” he said.
Her heart rattled in her chest. It was definitely not proper for a chambermaid to call her Duke by his first name. But it was also definitely difficult to concentrate on that with his finger against her warm mouth.
“I want to hear you say it. It’s just us in here. It has been a while since anyone called me by name.” His tone was soft in volume, but there was a commanding undertone. He removed his finger reluctantly. “Do it.”
