As she stood in her small room hastily fastening her dress, she wiped angry tears from her eyes. Nothing had gone right from the moment she’d tried stealing those two lousy chickens from Lord Wellesley.Thathad been her true moment of ruin, and perhaps she should simply embrace it. She was a fallen woman, after all: forced to become his mistress even if he’d not taken her by force outright. Was there really any difference, mistress or whore? Charles thought she’d reconciled her shame in this, but now Adams’s men would think her a ‘hoor’insteadof a lady. Even Mamie Griswald had used the term during their talk.
Charles winced, for Mr. Adams had always treated her family with the utmost respect. She hated to think he, too, would think less of her now.
“And that’s it then? She found you out, you oaf, and invited you to ride back with her?” Wells had nearly finished grilling Pinky, though his mood remained foul—despite having enjoyed another of his cook’s fine dinners.
“Aye, Capt’n. Kept me distance the whole time, I did, but she’s no fool, sir. Knew I were skulkin’ behind. Likely didn’t think you’d let ’er out alone anyways.”
Wells snorted. “Likely, yes. And she merely visited prospective staff, she didn’t try to visit her father and sister?”
“No sir. Kept t’ her work, she did, an’ didn’t dally neither. Even tried t’ make the ol’ mare run, she did.” He laughed. “But the beast weren’t ’avin’ it, slowed right down again.”
Wells pictured Charles urging her aging mount into a gallop and almost smiled. “Alright, Pinky, you may go. But next time I ask you to tail someone you’d best do it right.”
“Sure, Capt’n. Only honest, sir, she’s got eyes in the back of her head, she do. That woman’s like a?—”
“Enough, Pinky. Go.”
And out the fellow went.
Wells leaned back in his chair and took up his whiskey again. Should he speak with Charles? Or let her stew another night? Would she seek him out, to report on the new staff? He was mulling precisely this when in she walked.
“My lord.” She curtsied low.
“Miss Merrinan,” he answered clipped.
“I’ve procured the additional staff you approved, sir, to start next week. I’ll need to ready two more rooms with Cuthbert’s help, if you can spare him or another man to assist me in the coming days.”
Wells nodded.
“I should also like . . .” She faltered. “I should also like to request a side saddle, my lord, for when I need to ride into town on future errands.”
He let her stand there a moment longer in her humiliation before he told her, “In future you will take the wagon into town.”
She bit her lip. “My lord, there is but one wagon here and it is often in use. A side saddle might be used by others, not just myself, should any staff need to?—”
“Do you mean to tell me all the women of Cumberland ride as well as you, miss?” He arched his brow.
“No, my lord,” she ground out. “I merely meant to say that any saddle purchased would benefit more than just my?—”
“Your unseemly display before a crew of men today will not go unpunished, Miss Merrinan.” Wells willed himself to remain in control. “Therefore, you will use the wagon in future and you willnotride publicly astride a horse again while in my employment.”
Her mouth tightened.
“For someone as concerned about her reputation as you claim to be, I was surprised by the brazen behavior you displayed this afternoon.”
She again bit her lip.
“Have you nothing to say for yourself, miss?”
Her eyes flashed up at him, burning. “No, my lord,” she gritted. “Would you like another bath brought to your room tonight, sir?”
“Yes,” he told her. “You may go now.”
And out she went, slamming the door behind her.
Wells leaned back in his chair, tension draining from his body. God but he wanted her again, badly. He told himself he didn’t, that he wanted her apology well-and-good first, but the image of those sweet hips of hers sashaying across the courtyard in his breeches . . . He felt his trousers tighten. No, he’d make her wait. She’d come begging before long. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her.
Although a tiny voice inside his heart warned that maybe she did not.
