Daring Damsels Read online

  Still feeling the effects of that simple wink, she swallowed hard. This man, who she should hate—no, did hate—would most certainly be her undoing.

  “Thank you, my lord. I pray my new attire and clean state are to your liking.” She gave him a small curtsy, looking up through her lashes.

  “Yes. 'Tis much improved,” he said curtly, before turning from her and walking away.

  Chloe wasn’t sure if she should be offended or relieved that he turned without so much as a backward glance. His moods seemed to shift with the wind. She was sure the look on her face registered her feelings, and she had to quickly wipe her emotions from her face. She reminded herself that she was a servant here, not a lady of the court. If he had known who she was then, he would have known that he’d just rebuffed her, but since she was a servant, it was his right to do so.

  She sighed, ease filling her, and returned to her duties.

  Ballocks and damnation!

  Alexander knew Chloe must be confused about his abrupt departure, but he had to get away from her. All he could think about were the sounds he’d heard while she bathed. Her soft moan. The water sloshing about and the scandalous thoughts that had rushed through his mind. She would have been greatly offended had she known he imagined ripping her gown from her body and taking her on the hall floor without a care for who watched. He had to break away from her quickly before he obeyed his impulse and discovered for himself what her naked body looked like as it sloshed in a tub of steamy water.

  She was indeed the vision he had seen at South Hearth Castle. Although her hair was pulled back and covered by a delicate hood, it was the same enchanting face. Creamy, skin with rose hued cheeks. Lush full lips, a soft velvet looking tongue. Lord, what he wished she’d do to him with that tongue. The same wide vibrant blue eyes stared at him, now clouded with secrets. He could sense she was drawn to him. Her eyes flashed with passion when he winked at her. She struggled to hide it, but her every emotion showed on her face. She must have been aware of how transparent her feelings were, because she lowered her gaze toward the ground whenever she was affected. He felt his ego swell, for it appeared that his wink was doing the same things to her mind as she was doing to his.

  He took his seat at the head of the table and raised his glass, and then took a large swig of ale. Perhaps bedding the wench would be easier than he’d thought.

  “The Lord has blessed us. We give our thanks. Enjoy!” He shouted to his men and took his seat. The men all shouted their agreement along with large swallows of ale.

  Chloe had either excelled at putting on the mid-day meal, or Harold had done the whole thing. He meant to ask her just that, but when he looked up, she was not sitting at the table. He looked around the room, frowning, and saw her standing just where he’d left her. She was looking back at him. When his eyes connected with hers she raised her chin and returned his gaze with a cool stare. Lord, but she was a feisty woman.

  He looked for Harold and saw that he was already seated at the table eating. Had the steward not told Chloe she was invited to eat with him? It was apparent that either he had failed to mention it, or she had declined. From the chilly look of indifference on her face, he wagered she didn’t know she was invited. He lifted a hand in the air and beckoned her forward. She looked about her, as she had done when he had winked at her, and Alexander laughed to himself. The poor chit must be so confused. When he waved again she must have discerned that he was indeed waving to her and hastily walked toward the table, a frown on her face.

  “Yes, my lord? Is there something you need?” Her voice was crisp, her face definitely showing signs of irritation with her pink lips pursed and her eyes blazing. Hell, she was even more beautiful when she was angry. Something told him he was going to enjoy this game of cat and mouse.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact there is something I need,” he said pausing to see what kind of a reaction she would give him.

  Her frown deepened, and she puffed out a breath.

  “Yes, my lord?” she drawled out, raising her eyebrow. Her irritation was more than obvious.

  “Join me?” It was more of a demand than a request, but he hoped his smile lessened the bite in his tone.

  “Yes, my lord. Where shall I sit?” Chloe asked looking up and down the table.

  She was quite surprised that he’d asked her to join him. She hadn’t expected as much. Would that she could have put some chicory root in her pocket to sprinkle on his food. She almost laughed at her devilish plot and the image of him running from the room doubled over as the laxative herbs worked their magic.

  Why had he asked her to dine with him? She hadn’t been able to find Harold before all of the knights came in, and he had not informed her when she should take her mid-day meal. It was after Lord Hardwyck had left her feeling like she had been jilted, that she noticed Harold sitting with the knights and cajoling with them just as loudly as they did with each other. Here she’d been left standing, watching, her stomach rumbling since she hadn’t had much breakfast and had been running around all day.

  The aroma of the food as the serving staff brought it out had been almost more than she could bear. Her mouth watered at the sights and heavenly scents of roasted chickens, lamb, capons, sweetmeat pies, fruit pies, breads, and cheeses, as they were placed in the middle of the table. It had been at least a month since she’d seen a meal like this one.

  She’d turned her glare to Lord Hardwyck, angry that he knew she stood there and had not offered her a word of advice about where to eat. Then all of her anger turned on herself, for she knew that it was silly for her to be angry at all. She should be happy that her situation had turned out so well. She would get some food from the kitchen when everyone else finished. It had been during her reverie that she looked at Lord Hardwyck, and saw he was beckoning to her. She wasn’t sure how much more of his bidding she’d be able to do. Confused, she’d schooled her expression to one she hoped was more pleasant.

  Lord Hardwyck pointed to the bench on his right. He alone sat upon a chair, as befitted his position as lord. He gestured for Sir Edward to scoot down and allow room for Chloe to sit with him. She recognized him as the man who’d shouted disrespectfully at Lord Hardwyck on the practice field.

  She smiled apologetically at Sir Edward, and noticed that Lady Anne had been watching her, although her thoughts were hidden behind a vacant smile. Did Lady Anne harbor ill feelings about her place here? It must be hard to be the only lady in residence, but seen as a servant to the lord of the keep. Why didn’t she and Sir Edward live in their own home? He was a knight, Captain of the Guard. They should have quite a lovely home. Perhaps it was because Lord Hardwyck expected him to live here, and Sir Edward did not want to leave his wife at home.

  Chloe slid gracefully onto the bench, keeping her hands folded demurely in her lap. Nervously she moistened her dry lips before turning to face Lord Hardwyck. Raising her gaze she found him watching her. She waited. Waited for him to make the next move. Waited for him to say something first. He waved to one of the servants, who placed a trencher, spoon and knife in front of her. However starving she was, she refused to take a bite until Lord Hardwyck offered. At home she would have taken food gladly on her own, but this being her first meal, and sitting with Lord Hardwyck himself while she played at being a commoner, unnerved her.

  “Thank you, my lord, for inviting me to dine with you,” she said, offering him a smile of thanks.

  “We all dine together here,” he said, brushing off the fact that he’d asked her to sit. He looked at her empty trencher, his brow furrowing a bit, and with his knife stabbed a bit of roast lamb and chicken and placed them on her trencher. He then broke off a piece fresh warm baked brown bread and a hunk of cheese and added them to the pile.

  “Enjoy it, like the rest of us,” he said, the beginnings of a smile tipping the corners of his mouth.

  She smiled tentatively in return. A tumble of confused thoughts and feelings assailed her, for he had served her the food. She hadn’
t expected this. She’d simply thought he would motion for her to take her own food from the platters in front of her.

  Serving was only done between a man and woman when they shared something intimate. What did he expect from her? Did he want her to become intimate with him, without the bonds of marriage? Did he invite her here because he wanted her to become his mistress? Was that why he’d appointed her as chatelaine and given her a bedchamber of her own? The thoughts swirled in her mind as she ate her food. For a moment she was even tempted.

  From the corner of her eye, she noted he watched her intently as they ate, his eyes rarely leaving her. She hoped she was able to mask her inner turmoil with the look of serene calmness she kept plastered on her face.

  “How is your day going so far? Are you finding that you will enjoy Hardwyck?”

  “My lord, it is going quite well. The staff are quite agreeable. All are very good at what they do, which makes my transition here very smooth,” she answered between bites. She ate as a lady must, but an overwhelming sense of hunger made her want to shove fistfuls of the delectable food into her mouth.

  “Yes, I do agree. But are you finding that you like it here?”

  “I have only been here a short time, but I do think I will enjoy living here, yes.” She was not sure what he was seeking. She dared to peer at him, only to find he was looking at her with interest.

  “Good. Earlier you mentioned that you liked my horse collection. Have you ever ridden?”

  “Oh yes! Many times,” she answered, the last of her words choking in her mouth. Think before speaking! A commoner, especially one as poor as she had been portraying, wouldn’t have ridden many times. Thinking quickly, she found a way to get herself out of her blunder. “My pack horse makes a fine companion.” She offered him a naïve smile and watched as something flashed in his eyes.

  He doesn’t believe me.

  “Ah, yes, your pack horse. I’m sure he is an excellent ride,” he said giving her a knowing look. “Tomorrow I will take you on a tour the estate. Since you are my new chatelaine, it would help if you knew all the lands about.”

  She was too startled by his demand to object and she nodded, unable to find the words. Would he be the only one to accompany her? Would this be when he let her know his true motivation? She would never become his mistress. Maybe she’d loosen the girth on his horse’s saddle… Dear lord, all these tricky thoughts going through her mind would certainly land her in Hell. She’d better go to confession soon.

  Her joy at the prospect of going for a ride the following day overcame her fears however, and she looked at him with true excitement, her heart singing at the idea. Lord Hardwyck’s face brightened, her reaction seeming to amuse him. A devilishly handsome smile covered his face, reminding her of the feelings she had begun to experience whenever he was near.

  “Your excitement about riding is refreshing. I look forward to your enjoyment as you ride something other than a pack horse.” He stood up from the table, a wicked look in his eye. He smiled at her crookedly. “Until then,” he said as he swaggered away, leaving her reeling at the double meaning in his words.

  There was a crisp breeze this afternoon. A particularly sharp gust blew the hood of Chloe’s mantle from her head. She closed her eyes a moment, breathing in the fresh air, and for a moment she could pretend she was not in England, but in Scotland.

  After the mid-day meal had been cleaned up and the servants returned to their duties, Harold asked Chloe if she would like to take a walk about the village to get to know her knew home. Reluctantly she walked out of the keep, wishing that she could instead spend the time in her bed, resting. Getting up before the sun came up, especially after the last exhausting month she’d had, left her feeling ragged. At least she had some time to herself to gather her thoughts and wits. And now that she was outside walking around she was glad she’d taken him up on his offer. The sun was shining brightly and the afternoon sky was clear of any clouds. The air was refreshing against her face, giving her a bit more energy.

  Wrapping her cloak a little tighter on her shoulders, she put the hood back in place.

  As she walked about the lower bailey, dodging people as they ran to and fro, she had the idea that now would be the best time for her to get her satchel out of Maude and James’s house. She looked about her to make sure she wasn’t being watched, and then walked toward the place where she thought Maude’s house was located.

  She looked forward to the rest of her day. After talking a little further with Lady Anne she discovered the lady was from a clan near her own. Gaining Anne’s trust was number one on her list. If she could trust her, she could confide her secret, and then pray that Anne could get word to her own family.

  Chloe soon found Maude’s little home. She paused, looking over her shoulder to make sure one last time that she wasn’t being followed before she slowly opened the front door.

  When she looked inside, it was dark, since the one window offered no illumination inside the small house. She quickly shut the door behind her, and let her eyes adjust to the ill-lit room. After quickly finding her bearings, she moved toward the indoor stable. When she reached the stable, she spied the trough and walked toward it.

  Despite the silence within the dark little house, Chloe couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. A flicker of apprehension coursed through her, and she stopped in her tracks, turning to look behind her. There was no one in sight, and she quickly convinced herself it was all her imagination.

  She was alone.

  Wasn’t she?

  Shaking her head at the increasing apprehension that gnawed at her, she turned back around and continued over to the trough. Just as she bent down to reach behind the trough, she heard a noise behind her.

  Whirling around she started at James’s presence.

  “What are ye doin' ‘ere?” he asked, his brows raised in curiosity.

  “I left something behind this morning. I came to fetch it,” Chloe said, standing up tall.

  “Uh-huh. They came to get yer horse I see. What else did ye leave?” He walked toward her, a lecherous grin on his face.

  “Just a bag,” she answered, shrugging her shoulders, hoping her nonchalance would make him believe the satchel held no meaning for her.

  “Ain’t nothing there,” he said, looking behind her, gesturing with his chin.

  She whirled around to see for herself, that there indeed was nothing there. Where could the sack be? Her stomach twirled in knots and she sucked in her breath. A looming sense of foreboding captured her.

  “Yes, I see. Perhaps the groomsman that Lord Hardwyck sent picked it up for me. Well, I’d best be going now. Thank you for your hospitality.” She gave him a terse smile and a small curtsy then tried to scurry around him.

  He grabbed her arm as she went by, stopping her in her tracks. Her stomach lurched, her nerves wound so tight she might retch if she couldn’t get back to the keep soon.

  “Are ye sure ye didn’t come by fer somethin’ else?” he asked, his mouth taking on an unpleasant twist as darkness clouded his brown eyes.

  She hardened her expression, turning angry eyes on him, her mouth a tight lipped frown. “I’m sure that I did not come for anything else. Now, unhand me.” She kept her voice cool and even as she tried to wrench her arm free.

  “Chloe,” James rasped, as he tightened his grip on her.

  He pulled her to his chest so that she was facing him, taking both of her hands in his. His hands were narrow, his fingers long. Just like the rest of him. Tall and thin. His hands were cold, his grip like a vice. She felt a shiver of fear run up her spine and a tense silence filled the room. James closed his eyes and sucked in his breath as his bony fingers caressed her small hands. She tried to pull away from him, but he only held her tighter, pulling her closer to him. The stench of his unclean body assaulted her senses.

  As thin as he was, she imagined he was not strong, but his grip on her proved otherwise. He turned her hands over and placed a kiss on
each of her palms. She gasped in revulsion, shocked at his forwardness, and forced back the bile that slowly crept up her throat.

  “How dare you!” she hissed at him, trying unsuccessfully again to pull herself away from him.

  Her dagger burned where she kept it safely hidden against her thigh. Her fingers itched with the intense need to grab it and force this vile creature from her person. If only she could get to it. If she could just wrench one of her arms free…

  S’enfuir! S’enfuir pour sauver sa peau! Nicola’s voice echoed in her mind.

  “Chloe, ye are like me, we need to stick together,” he muttered against her hands, placing more lascivious kisses on her palms.

  “I am nothing like you,” she hissed back. “Unhand me before you do something you regret.” She made her voice like steel, her glare stern, even though her insides were churning and she wanted nothing more than to run from him.

  “We are so much alike,” he disagreed. “I have been thinking about ye all day. Since ye came into my house yesterday, my shop this morn, I can’t get ye out of my mind. I have something fer ye.” He let go of one of her hands, and reached into a pouch at his belt and pulled out something small.

  He opened his hand and resting in his palm was a small metal ring. Nothing more than a piece of metal that he had molded. Chloe stared at it, not sure what she was supposed to say. Dread filled her belly. This could only get worse. The man had built up some unimaginable bond in his mind, and gone to so much trouble as this…

  “James, I appreciate your regard for me, but I am not looking to marry.” She kept the hard edge in her tone despite her meek words, but he ignored her.

  “I have never met a woman like ye before. I mean to marry ye.” As he said this he slipped the tiny metal ring onto her left ring finger, against her resistance.

  The metal was cold against her skin. She turned her face up to his and glared at him with all she had. “I am not going to marry you. I am not going to marry anyone,” she said, keeping her gaze on him, so he could see she was serious.