Nathaniel sat in the cozy sitting room upstairs, spent. Helen sat in an armchair near the fire, book in hand. He was glad they had decided to give the servants their ball. But it had never crossed his mind that in so doing, he might be compelled to dance with Margaret Macy again, and in his very home. He might have reconsidered had he known. His traitorous body had reacted to her nearness, the touch of her hand in his, in annoying fashion.
Hudson gave his telltale double knock and entered when bid. Nathaniel was still not used to seeing his friend in such a role. In Barbados, things had been much more informal between them.
“Good evening, Hudson. Everything all right belowstairs?”
“I... believe so, sir. Shall I have tea and sandwiches sent up for you here?”
“Thank you, Hudson, yes,” Helen replied for them both.
Hudson hesitated. “I thought you would want to know that Mr. Lewis has just arrived.”
“Lewis?” Helen’s countenance brightened. “We weren’t expecting him.”
Nathaniel frowned and sat forward. “Where is he?”
“Last I saw him he was dancing with our new housemaid.”
Nathaniel stood abruptly to his feet. Helen rose and stepped to his side, laying a hand on his arm. “Nathaniel... careful. Please don’t fight again. Lewis means no harm to... anyone, I’m sure.”
It was an odd reaction, he realized after his burst of anger subsided, unless she knew the true identity of the new housemaid.
“I shall just go down and welcome him home.” Nathaniel patted Helen’s hand, extracted himself from her grip, and quit the room. He strode down the corridor and jogged down the stairs. In the basement, the unexpected sound of the pianoforte—along with the aromas of savory meats, yeasty breads, and ale—ushered him down the narrow passageway to the servants’ hall.
From the doorway, Nathaniel saw them, and his stomach clenched. Lewis, tall and handsome, hand in hand with Nora, looking self-conscious. But in a flash, he saw not Nora but Margaret. Not with black hair but with blond. Her simple frock replaced with a gown of fine white satin, jeweled ornaments in her golden curls, eyes sparkling up into the face of his dashing older brother. He felt again the sharp kick of jealousy, the iron weight of dread he had felt two years ago when he realized,She doesn’t look at me that way....And he’d tried to ignore the growing fear that he was losing her. To his very own brother. A man who would never appreciate her, never love her as he did.
Lewis danced Nora through the doorway, all but colliding with Nathaniel, jarring him from his miserable reverie.
Lewis drew up short. “Nate, ol’ boy. Grand party. Well done. Wouldn’t have thought it of you.”
“Mr. Upchurch!” Nora blurted, face blushing. “I... I am glad to see you. Again.”
He doubted it. She looked embarrassed. Caught.
Bemused, Lewis glanced from the girl’s flushed face back to him. “A housemaid is glad to see you. And why should that be, I wonder?”
“I have no idea,” Nathaniel said, avoiding her eyes. “What brings you home?”
“I must have sensed something afoot. I can smell a party forty miles off.”
“Apparently.”
Nora pulled her hands from Lewis’s grasp and excused herself, hurrying away down the passage.
Lewis watched her go. “She reminds me of someone.... Who is it?”
“One of your many conquests, no doubt,” he said dryly. “Well, I shall leave you to it. Just wanted to welcome you home.”
Retreating into the kitchen, Margaret wrung her hands in time with the twisting of her stomach. Now Nathaniel would think the worst of her. If he still thought her simply a maid, he would now think her a flirt, a saucy light-skirt who had instigated the dance and near tête-à-tête with Lewis. And worse, if he suspected who she was, he would surely think she was up to her old tricks. Trying to woo his older brother. She paced the kitchen, fretting.
One of the hired servers looked up from the tray she was laying with tea and sandwiches. “All right, love?”
Margaret nodded. Then her eyes locked on the tray. “Is that for upstairs?”
“It is.”
“May I take it up?”
The older woman shook her head. “Don’t want them thinkin’ I’m shirkin’ my duty. Yer to be dancin’. Aren’t you enjoying it?”
