“Beg your pardon, milady, but we were just getting the house polished up for you and your friend.” The other woman tugged on the younger one’s arm.
“No need to call me milady,” Rose corrected. “Just Miss Van Etten.”
“I’m Kilda.” The older servant bobbed in deference. “And this here is Ann.”
“Nice to meet you, Kilda and Ann.” Rose inclined her head too. She hadn’t expected to run into anyone, but perhaps this was actually an opportunity to gently begin to dig into what the household staff knew about the earl and the late viscount. “We must have arrived very suddenly. I’m sorry that the earl did not give you more notice so you wouldn’t be working all night.”
“’Tis no problem, miss.” Kilda’s eyes flicked nervously up and down the hallway, as if expecting a phantom to materialize.
Rose began to suspect that perhaps the women were hiding something ... and thatsomethingcould be linked to the spy ring. “Does the earl normally show up unannounced?”
Kilda stiffened. “I couldn’t say.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to tell tales on your employer. I was curious—that’s all. It seems like such a whirlwind trip to me. I just wondered if the earl is a spontaneous man or a creature of habit. It is important to understand a man’s character before thinking about coming to an understanding.” Rose knew she was committing scads of social blunders by having such a frank conversation with the household staff. Fortunately, she had her reputation as a nouveau riche American to explain away her behavior.
“The earl doesn’t like us to speak about him or his guests,” Ann burst out so quickly that between her broad brogue and soft voice, Rose almost didn’t understand her. Kilda did not appear happy with the scullery maid’s outburst.
“Unless you would like us to fetch you something, miss, we’d best be getting to our beds now,” Kilda said. “We’d just finished with the parlor when you came down.”
“Oh no, I’m fine. I was having trouble sleeping, and I thought I’d read a book in the library.”
“It is down the hall, third door to the left,” Kilda said crisply before she grabbed Ann’s arm and shepherded the young woman toward the servants’ corridors.
Rose waited until they had disappeared into a concealed door in the wall, and then she ducked into the room Kilda had emerged from. All the drop cloths had been removed and the heavy, masculine furniture revealed. There was no lightness, it appeared, in this manor house. Rose believed the decor was to evoke a sense of might, but it just seemed unnecessarily weighty.
As she moved her lantern through the darkness, she spied nothing much of interest. The room appeared to be exactly what it was: a parlor. There was a little side table with a small drawer under it. Rose started to bend down to see if there was a keyhole, but the thud of footsteps stopped her.
She flicked off her lantern and tried to still her breathing. The tread was definitely that of a man, and there were very few male servants with so many of the soldiers still trickling home from the war’s various theaters. She wasn’t so much frightened as she was alert.
The parlor door scraped back, and the earl stood illuminated by candlelight. The soft glow obscured some of his wrinkles, making him look young, handsome, and somehow more sinister. He strode masterfully into the room, using his tall body to block the exit.
Unlike the night on Daytona Beach, Rose wasn’t caught off guard. Although energy pumped through her, it didn’t make her shake. Instead, like it had on the shell-blasted roads of France, Rose’s fierce response steadied her.
Not one to hide in the dark, she flicked on her lantern. The light caused the silk fibers of the earl’s dressing gown to glow, bestowing upon him an almost unearthly appearance. Yet this was no archangel but a fallen one.
The earl’s gaze swept over her body, and his lips twisted slightly when he saw that she still wore her practical traveling suit. Clearly, he’d hoped to find her in a gauzy night rail.
“You needn’t have traveled halfway across my home for a private moment with me.” Mar stepped forward, his voice rich and soft, but it didn’t warm Rose. It chilled her. “I would have come to your bedchamber soon enough.”
Rose arched an eyebrow. “Is that why you think I am up in the middle of the night? I was after a good book, not an assignation.”
Mar laughed, but the sound was not amused. “There is no need to play coy, Rose. We know why you came to Hamarray.”
Did Mar know about her intent to sleuth around his estate? A true trickle of fear slipped through Rose, but she hid it under a familiar protective layer of blitheness.
“The sea air?”
Mar’s long legs ate up the space between them. “You are to be my wife. You needn’t worry about your reputation.”
“Aren’t you skipping a vital step?” Rose asked as she tried to dart around him. Unfortunately, her legs hit the back of an end table.
Mar had her trapped.
“We’ll take our vows soon enough.” The earl grabbed Rose’s shoulders, his fingers digging through the soft wool of her tailored jacket. His grip hurt, but it didn’t quell her. It galvanized her.
She smashed her knee into his groin, the movement quick and vicious. Before she’d gone to war, Rose had been taught to defend herself by Myrtle’s grandfathers—one a Texas Ranger, the other a gunslinger. Mar crumpled over with a pained roar, but he did not drop to the ground.
“I actually was referring to the fact that you hadn’t properly asked for my hand.” Rose towered over the earl as he clutched himself. “And the answer is no, by the way.”
