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Nora had paused, but when he didn’t speak, she made to move around him, and that was enough to bring him from his own thoughts. He put out a hand, and she stopped, though she didn’t look up or speak.
Curiosity piqued, he took another step closer. “Where are you off to, might I ask? I should have thought all the servants had retired by now.”
“So they have, Your Grace. I was just on my way home.”
“On your way home?” As far as he knew, all the servants they employed lived in the servant’s quarters.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“You don’t live on the grounds, with the rest of the servants?” Even the married couples had lodgings on the grounds. And from the look of her and the unadorned ring finger, she wasn’t married.
“I do not. I requested special permission for other lodgings when the Dowager offered me a situation. It was agreed when I was taken on that I should live in my own home away from the estate, provided I ensure my tasks are complete each evening before departure and return no more than half an hour later than the other servants rise to begin my duties.”
“Is that a fact? I’d no idea mother was so accommodating.” Never mind his father. “How odd when I’d thought myself and my companions were the only ones sneaking in and out of the grounds these days.” He smirked.
To his surprise, she raised her head, eyes flashing in a rather becoming manner as her lips pursed in disapproval. “Perhaps, Your Grace, if you were to pay as much attention to your estate, your mother, or the activities of those you employ as you do to getting young ladies into and out of your private study without confrontation, you would have known of the arrangement much sooner, as well as a great many other things.”
Arthur stared, too startled to respond nor even to feel the indignation he ought to have at being chastised by a mere slip of a maid. It was rare that he’d been addressed so candidly, especially since his assumption of the Ducal title and responsibilities.
He was still searching for a suitable reply when she flushed and ducked her head. “Forgive me. I misspoke. It isn’t my place to comment on your activities or how you choose to spend your time. If you will pardon me, Your Grace, I must be getting home.”
A hasty curtsy, and then she was gone, brushing past him and disappearing into the darkened halls.
Well, that was certainly interesting. And intriguing.
He’d thought her a little mouse, a meek maid, too shy to even respond to his teasing or flirtations. But it appeared there was some flash and fire in her after all and a ready tongue when she wished to make use of it.
He continued on to his study, but his thoughts were no longer on business nor correspondence.
There was no denying that the maid was a pretty little thing. And if she’d the spirit and the wit to challenge him like that, she was no meek-as-milk maiden, no matter how she addressed him or kept her eyes down. Instead, it seemed as though her quiet manners were a mask over a much more interesting personality.
And yet, she persisted in fleeing from him. She made no response to his teasing nor did she show any signs of relaxing when he spoke casually to her. Always with her eyes averted.
He wondered what it would take to make her forget her stiff manners in a more pleasing fashion. He grinned as he stepped into his study and shut the door behind him. Now there was something that promised to be a fascinating diversion from both the pressures of his station and his mother’s increasingly frequent lectures on propriety.
His mother could hardly complain of women going to and fro at all hours if the girl in question was her own maid. In fact, there’d be little need for sneaking at all. He could simply ask for the maid to share some duties with one of his servants or perhaps to take over delivering his meals from Bradstone. And no matter if ‘mealtime’ happened to be a bit longer than expected.
And what complaint could there be if he dallied with a maid? It was far from unheard of among members of the ton. Many of the gentlemen in his club enjoyed the charms of their female staff when they did not wish to pay for companionship or had no ready or willing wife to go home to.
It wasn’t as if he’d treat her poorly. He’d never had complaints about either his prowess or his courtesy in the bedchamber or any other designated assignation. Even if the worst should happen, and his mother dismissed her upon discovering their activities, it would be no trouble to see her set up in a new situation or comfortably kept on a small retainer.
As far as he knew, he’d never fathered a child on the wrong side of the sheets, but he’d always maintained that if an accident happened—well, he’d not be accused of forsaking kin, whether he took the mother as a wife or not.
His thoughts returned to the maid. Light-of-loves, as his mother had called his frequent casual partners, were all very well for a quick tumble and satiating of urges, but he could admit that he’d been desiring a bit of a challenge of late. A bit of proper pursuit, the type that got a man’s blood up and made the final surrender all the sweeter.
There was no lady among the ton to fit such criteria, at least none he could approach without inviting scandal or a demand for a proper commitment. But the little maid, with her carefully banked fire under that demure demeanor…
Yes. I do believe she’ll make a fine pursuit—and an adequately entertaining companion both in the bed chamber and out of it.
He would have to think of how to approach the matter. However, such considerations would have to wait until morning.
For now, there remained his correspondence, his business and an empty bed to rest in.
* * *
Nora slid silently through the door of the small house she shared with Scarlett with a sigh of relief.
She had not thought to encounter the Duke twice, of all things. And she was still somewhat surprised he had not taken umbrage at how she’d addressed him. There were many among thetonwho’d have seen her dismissed immediately for such disrespect, regardless of earlier ‘favors.’
