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“You can refuse,” he added with a laugh. It was the laugh that did it. He was taunting her! Challenging even. She slapped her hand down on his and stood up to meet him. Her heart gave a small leap, and she realized she did not want to refuse. She wanted to walk out with this man. In all the horror of her captivity he was the one bright ray.
“Lead the way,” she ordered with one last glare over her shoulder at the meddling Peggy. It was true she had yet to be out of doors. She had been afraid though she could not say why. Perhaps it was too much like a taste of freedom. If she went out, the laundry room would feel all the more stifling.
The garden was small and enclosed. There was no way to escape it. It was not really like freedom, but still she had avoided the pleasure so that the return to the indoors might not feel so crushing. Marilee loved to be out of doors. She and Miss Caroline had spent as many hours as could be managed outside of the austere chill of Gravesend Manor. She also wanted to be alone with Mr. Crowley, and there was the rub. She feared taking a moment of happiness might undo her entirely. Marilee was captive, unhappy and tortured. She could not allow herself to find even the smallest of pleasures in this nightmare. A garden, or a man… she did not have time to enjoy such things. Not now, maybe not for a long time yet. Maybe never. If she was rescued, she would go back to Miss Caroline if she would have her, and there would be no man in her life. She had known she would die a spinster. Such was the lot of a lady’s maid. So why was she torturing herself with the possibility when there was none?
They donned cloaks and Marilee was even able to scrounge up a pair of mittens from the basket by the door. Whose heavy woolen cloak she wore, she had no idea, nor did she care. Nick, of course, had his own things. By the time that she had finished the last tie on the cloak, he had gone above stairs, dressed for his own warmth, and met her again in the corridor beside the kitchen. It was a ragged side door as the garden was for servants and far too drab for Lady Lydia to ever make use of the place. Vegetables in the summer and mountainous piles of wood in the winter were the sole purpose of the so-called garden. There was a single apple tree but what little fruit remained on the ground had all gone to rot.
* * *
The couple was haltedby the bear at the door that refused to budge an inch when Marilee reached for the handle.
“Kate would like some air,” Nikolas informed the man with cool authority. He hated the guards masquerading as footmen at the doors. Hated more that he had in any way been a part of this wickedness.
“She can take it in the daylight with the others,” the man said.
“No she cannot,” Nikolas replied. “I’m afraid that is not possible as she is torn between tending to her ladyship and washingyourshirts for the duration of the day,” He jerked his head toward the door, indicating that the man move, but the giant only swayed slightly.
Nick felt a bit like Jack eyeing up the giant, but he knew he could not physically move the man. Besides, he did not want to lose the freedom that Lady Lydia had recently given him by being out of line. He needed that self-determination if he was going to be able to free the slaves in this household. Yes. Slaves, he thought for that was what they were. It galled him to think of it.
“Where is she to go?” Nikolas pressed putting a hand on Kate’s arm. It was so very soft beneath his. “I shall keep a watchful eye and promise not to give an opening to take me unawares and hit me over the head with a flowerpot lest she scramble over that wall in the dead of winter. Have a wit about you, man.”
Realizing that the solicitor was well apprised of what was what in the household, the man looked at Nikolas with a jaundiced eye. “There are warmer places for …” he began.
“Move!” Mr. Crowley snapped.
The guard moved aside with a leer that Nikolas hoped Kate did not see.
They stepped out into the stone yard. It was a small enclosure, no more than ten paces in either direction. They had to skirt around a neat stack of wood that neither could see above. Nikolas would normally have been concerned at the obstruction from the view of the door, but he was pleased that it would prevent the guard from spying. They could talk in peace. At the far end of the garden, though it was not far at all, stood a lone bench that someone had dusted the snow from earlier in the day. They took their seats.
“You do not intend to hit me over the head with a flower pot, do you? ” Nikolas teased.
Marilee pretended to consider her options, but could not hold her laugh back for long. She shook her head.
“Good,” he grinned. “I had thought not, although I was not so sure the guard would have been so accommodating,
He lay a hand on her mittened fingers, and even through the wool, he felt the warmth of her like a shock.
She smiled. She had such a beautiful smile, and he wanted to see it more. There was so little to smile about in this place. It was his task to get her to safety. He felt the need more urgently day after day. He wanted to shelter her and protect her. He had never felt so about a woman. He knew there were too many worries that plagued her mind. He wanted to take away the haunted look in her eyes. He reached up and touched her cheek, stoking the flesh of her face softly.
The world fell silent around them.
Nikolas allowed himself to soak in the sensation, her breath making small puffs in the night air. The crisp air and gentle breeze had reddened her cheeks and nose but he still found her beautiful. She pulled her mittened hands beneath the cloak, and Nikolas’ fingers tightened on hers as she moved her hands to her lap for warmth. He did not want to let her go. He never wanted to lose her. He never had her in the first place. He needed to tell her of his duplicity. He needed to be honest.
“It’s so quiet,” she breathed.
“Yes,” he said softly. He did not want to disturb her solitude. It seemed that for the first time since he had met her, she relaxed.
There was a dusting of snow on the ground, but he did not feel the chill. The heat of passion warmed him. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her.
“It is peaceful and quiet and I can smell the pine.” Her eyes misted, and she pulled her hand from his to brush at them. “I can almost forget…”
“Forget what?” he urged anxious to hear her thoughts.
“The scents of the out of doors almost makes me forget the smells of lye and onion and detergents,” she whispered. Almost he thought, but not really. She had not really escaped. Not yet. He would save her, but first he had to save himself.
“Look at the stars, Kate,” Nikolas whispered. She turned to notice that his face was turned up to the sky, and he was staring into an abyss of black night and twinkling diamonds. “Look up.” He tipped her face up, brushing away a tear on her cheek. He still wanted to kiss her, but it was too soon. He did not want their first kiss to be here in this place of desolation. He wanted more for her…for them. He had to find a way.
“Look up,” he said. “And believe me when I say, I will find a way to get you out of here.” Nikolas knew he had to do it, even at the expense of his own life and livelihood. He had contributed to her being here. Perhaps he had made the very concoction that had drugged her to carry her away from her family. How could he ever be forgiven for such an act? He could not. He could only hope to be able make some restitution.
