AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My stomach clenched in discomfort. Was my fear of facing a bad reputation not part of the reason I’d fled? It was never my intention to attach further scandal to my name—my parents had done enough of that for me already. But I would not allow Benedict to unbalance me now. I stood my ground. “Truly, sir. I am not this Miss Northcott of whom you speak.”
“Devil take it!” He ran a hand over his face. “A little white powder will not hide you from me. Drop the facade. I know it’s you.” His chest heaved in frustration.
The way I understood this situation, I now had two options: I could admit the truth, or I could keep pretending I didn’t know what he meant until he began to second-guess himself and left me.
Truly, I never had a choice to begin with. There was no situation in this world that would ever entice me to allow Benedict to win.
“It’s flour, sir, and it’s not a disguise. It is a product of my occupation. You must be on your way now or my employer will be out here soon, and she will surely report you to the constable.”
“For standing in the garden?”
“For pestering her kitchen maid.”
“I was correct. You’ve gone and found yourself a position.” He scoffed. “I never did realize you were capable of such work, Thea. Though I suppose you feel the need to exhaust yourself daily in order to cover the guilt you must surely feel.”
“I have no guilt, sir.”
“Of course not,” he muttered. “You would have to be possessed of a heart first.”
That stung a little. I tried not to think of his mother and what my absence had done to her. In truth, I hadn’t much considered Lady Edith or what she would think. It was something of a surprise to learn that it had affected her to any great extent. “Go on your way, Ben—”Blast. He had me now. I hurried to cover my blunder. “Beon your way, please. I have nothing more to say to you.”
The gleam in his eye proved that I hadn’t been able to cover my blunder well enough. Time for a distraction. I picked my way through the garden and dropped to my knees, digging beets from the earth and piling them in the bottom of my apron. Benedict quietly watched me work, his attention unnerving. When I stood again, it was with a renewed determination to have the man far from Brumley.
Benedict’s hand on my arm gently stopped me from escaping. I held my breath, aware of the warmth that permeated his touch. It was likely the heat of boiling rage transferring from his hand to my arm, but it gave me pause, nonetheless.
“I will not press you further today, Thea. But know these two things: I will not leave Brumley until you agree to come with me, and you could never fool me into believing you are someone else.”
I said nothing in response to this bold declaration. What would be the point? It implied a depth of intimacy I was unable to validate. He had caught me nearly calling him by his name, so we both knew exactly who I was.
Yet I was far too stubborn to admit defeat so squarely.
“I hope you find comfortable accommodations, then. If you are waiting for me to come with you, you will never be leaving Brumley again.”
He dropped my arm, and his mouth ticked up into a half-smile. He looked to the tall house looming behind us. “This is the Fullers’ residence, is it not?”
Cold dread pooled in my stomach. We were in Leicestershire, miles from York, where I had been previously attending school, and even further from Benedict’s home in Cumberland. How the heavens did he know a genteel family fromBrumley?
His smile was snake-like and frustrating. “I rather think I will just stay here.”
Chapter2
THEA
Idid not catch another glimpse of Benedict for the remainder of the day, but when the footmen came downstairs to retrieve dinner dishes for the Fullers, they were exasperated.
“They’ve had a late addition to dine,” Tom said. “A gentleman.”
Benedict. It must be. How had he managed it? When he’d known the name of my employers, I had been surprised. But that he knew them well enough to receive an invitation to stay? That bordered on ludicrous.
There was nothing for it. I would need to escape in the middle of the night.
But where would I go?
“What does the gentleman look like?” I asked Tom while Cook dashed madly about the kitchen to ensure the tureen had enough soup and the platters enough bread and ham.
“Tall chap,” Tom said. “Curly hair. From the look of his clothes, he comes from money.”
It sounded like Benedict. I gritted my teeth. If he was dining, that gave me plenty of time to clean the rest of the kitchen and pack my measly belongings before I could escape. I looked at Cook; her harried expression tugged at my heart. I couldn’t leave her without notice, not when she had so many tasks and no one else to help. Deserting her now would be beyond the pale.
