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“Shall I get more tea?” she asked dumbly. She would have left in silence but the sag of the duke’s shoulders after being abandoned by his betrothed and his brother made her want to say something to comfort him. He had made his entrance with such a cheerful tone. There was no doubt in her mind that he had been expecting a joyful reception.
He turned toward her, surprised to hear a maid speak in his presence, perhaps. Caroline gasped.
His face was similar to his father’s in the basic masculine bone structure with a square jaw and firm brow, but it was more angular. His father had been paunchy. The younger man was anything but soft. This is what that face would have looked like if the duke had been thirty years younger as well as muscular and lean. His features, like his eyes, were hard. They bespoke the sight of many horrors. Horrors which he had not intention of sharing. He held them close.
None of those things were what had forced Caroline to swallow her gasp though. No, he would have been a shocking enough man on his own, not handsome exactly, never beautiful like his brother, but intriguing at least to look upon. He had a presence, a gruff brooding style, but commanding all the same. Still, that was not what drew her eye.
No, it was the jagged scar that ran down his face that would forever be the first thing that drew an onlooker’s eye. It ran from his temple, down his cheek, over the strong curve of his chin, and continued down the side of his neck. Down all the way into the collar of his shirt and who knew how much further. She could not take her eyes from the disfigurement.
It was healed. Several months old at least and no longer puckered or discolored. But it looked angry, jagged, and wide. It must have been incredibly painful when it had first been received. It had missed his eye by a hair’s breadth. She guessed that most people, upon seeing it for the first time, would be unable to control their shock and horror. Children might scream, bystanders would certainly stare, and he would very likely be gifted with one of two dreadful reactions. Pity or disgust.
Caroline thanked her lucky stars that she had been raised a lady and not a maid, for she had not flinched in the least. Her childhood governess would have been proud. She blinked once and stared him straight in the eyes ignoring the disfigurement. It was well out of line for who he thought she was, her lowly station, but she felt that he deserved this little show of strength when she doubted that he was often met without fear.
Like a punch to the gut, she understood Lady Lydia’s reaction. The lady had likely been told about the injury in words but, having not laid eyes upon her promised for five years, she might not have understood the full extent of the damage. Her shock and horror had not been that he was alive, although that would have been part of it, so much as at the first glimpse of his visage.
Caroline noticed that the duke was staring at her, as if he were waiting for her delayed reaction and steeling himself to weather it.
“I’m sure, she’ll get used to it,” slipped out before the words could be stopped. She instantly regretted the speech. If she were Miss Caroline, and perhaps if she and the duke were well acquainted, she might be permitted to make such bald statements. A daughter of a baron could speak. Miss Emily Baker, a maid in his house, would have done better to keep her mouth shut.
His eyes narrowed, and he hit her with a look that would set the most seasoned soldier to quaking in his boots. And my, did she quake.
She opened her mouth to apologize, but he spoke before she could.
“Get out,” he growled.
Caroline ran from the room, losing several pieces of pottery from her apron in her wake. She did not turn around to collect them.
CHAPTER11
Caroline spent the rest of the day terrified that the duke was going to sack her. If she were fired, then what would happen? Where would she go? Would she be sent back to the rookery to do only heavens knew what? Would she be deemed too much trouble and finally disposed of? Worse, she thought with a twist of her gut, what would happen to Marilee? She had no idea where her friend was or what sort of conditions she had been placed in, other than that her supposed title was laundress. She could be anywhere and subject to any number of horrors. Caroline tried not to think on the matter too much else she would find herself spiraling into a pit of despair.
Worry after worry cascaded upon her. What if the maid was found out and no longer protected by her supposed nobility? Caroline could not begin to imagine the horrors that might occur if such a thing became known, not when it was already apparent that these vagrants were skilled at making females of lesser origins simply disappear.
When evening came and Caroline lay upon her uneven palette, she found that sleep evaded her. She could not stop worrying that she had stepped out of line and perhaps angered a very dangerous and very powerful man. If the new duke was anything like his father there would be hell to pay.
In the morning, Mrs. Reilly was still short with her, but no more than usual. The housekeeper did not seem to have any knowledge of the incident else Caroline was sure she would have gotten a tongue lashing, or worse. She shivered at the thought. She had never been beaten but would not put it past the woman to give her the first taste of the vulgar punishment. Perhaps the duke had said nothing. She was beneath his notice. Still, she decided that it was best if she avoided the duke outright. Best not to tempt fate, she thought.
She went about her duties with all the stealth of a servant who had been born to the task. On any occasion that she was asked to enter a room where the duke might have been present, she was able to pass the task off to one of the other maids in exchange for taking on their more cumbersome chores. It was exhausting but necessary and the other females were more than happy to take advantage of her offer without question.
She was glad of it because whispers through the house alleged that the duke had been surly and curt since his return. He and his brother had faced off in several sharp rows that had left the house on tenterhooks. The gentlemen were not in agreement with the duke’s determination to avenge his father, his brother seeming to think that the money and effort being devoted a futile effort. They had no leads and no evidence. In a way, Caroline agreed with Lord Edward. She could not inform the brothers that the highwaymen had seemed to have come across them by sheer accident. They had not even been traveling the usual route after all. Beyond that, she had heard nothing during her capture of anything tying them to a specific group or purpose. The only thing that she knew was that they had connections at one of the many brothels in London’s seedier areas. There were innumerable brothels in London, and Caroline could not even lead them to the right place. The madam had not been pleased with their actions and so Caroline had determined that as awful as the woman may be, she had not ordered the attack. It was most likely, as Lord Edward had professed, that the thugs had simply been in the habit of accosting carriages for no other purpose than to rob the occupants. Having come across a duke who had been determined to stand his ground, the situation had spun out of control. Still the elder brother had been determined to find the culprits and avenge his father. Accident or no he wanted the men responsible brought to justice. Caroline wanted the same although she could scarcely think how it might ever come to pass.
Caroline could not decide if the duke’s efforts meant that she ought to trust him outright or if they were a signal of his true involvement in the underbellies of London’s less desirable nature. If he were acting from a place of honor, then he could be trusted. On the other hand, if he had his own criminal network to defend it would make sense that one band of miscreants might wish revenge on another. She had heard tell that such groups were protective of their own people and territories. My she had become such a cynical thing, but there were far too many unknowns for Caroline to put herself, and Marilee, in the line of fire. She had to bide her time. It was better to be safe than play her hand too soon and lose all.
To make matters more difficult, the young duke visited Lady Lydia Blackwell daily, but she had yet to return to the house, and it seemed that the duke’s mood was spiraling with every passing day that his betrothed expressed discomfort at the mere sight of him. Five years of letters, it had seemed, did not make up for the shock of what it meant to live with his disfigurement. He had returned home expecting a warm welcome, and was met nothing but misfortune from every angle. She could almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
Caroline had assured him that the lady would get used to it. Now, she was confident that even the sight of her in his presence would remind the gentleman that she had been sorely wrong. Consequently, she stayed out of his sight.
By the third day of evasion, it was not uncommon to be approached with a sly grin and a cheerful, “I’ll handle the tea service if you iron the linens.” Serving tea took no more than a quarter of the hour. Ironing all of the freshly laundered bed linens and clothing items for two Lords’ rooms took two hours at best and that was if she didn’t burn anything, or herself, with the hot irons.
She had just finished that exact task, her arms laden with a basket of neatly folded shirts, when her path crossed Lord Edward’s in the hall.
“A beautiful face on a dreary day,” Lord Edward had crooned with a glance out the window at the grey clouds. His back was rigid and from the way that he had been stomping down the hall he had just broke free from another spat. “Just the tonic I needed.”
With the basket in her arms, she was unable to push by him and he stood in the middle of the hall as if he was fully aware that she would not.
“I have to get these to Melly,” she murmured as if he knew who the new maid was that had arrived only the day before.
“She can wait,” he grinned. “If she complains simply tell her that it was my doing and she can take up any issue with me.”
