Addison stepped into the library and lifted his fork from the floor. His mind remained on the scene at the bottom of the stairs.
He’d heard the clattering and known something was amiss.
He’d bolted out, unaware of dropping the utensil, or of the need for a lamp, and found Sophia clutching the banister, unable to move, terror consuming her, but nothing there to scare her.
Then he’d wanted to hold her and reassure her. And he had. He’d not expected it to end in comforting himself. Holding her had made him comprehend how alone he was. How solitary he’d made his life.
After university, even after he’d modified his life, he’d not been celibate, always having a woman who would welcome him in the late hours, to whom he promised nothing. Then one day he understood how well and often he was delivering on that promise and he’d striven to spend more of his evenings alone. Work had seemed the answer. And the harder he’d toiled, the more he’d found needed to be done.
He’d felt the aloneness then, but over time, he’d accepted it as the price for more success.
He’d been wary of courting. Of stepping into a union similar to his parents, but with no means of escape. He’d known it would have been unfair to the woman and himself.
After growing up, listening to his mother’s complaints about husbands and men, he could find strangers to disparage him easily enough. He didn’t need a wife.
His mother had said that having half a man was better than having a whole one, and sometimes even half a man was the wrong half, whichever half it was.
Her first husband had died, leaving her penniless. Bitterness about that had overshadowed any good memories she might have had of him. She’d decided then that she didn’t want a man to control the funds in her life, ever again. If that meant no marriage, then she was fine with that.
She’d even refused a duke, she’d boasted. Her declaration on her unwed state.
Addison had understood. His mother and father’s romance had been a constant bicker because their joy was in verbal gouges and thrusts. His father would live with them a few days at a time, leave for about the same length and then his carriage, ducal crest for all to see, would arrive at the front door. The butler, Wooten, would open the door with a flourish, helping His Grace with all the respect due to the Duke. Wooten did all but add trumpeters to complete the welcome.
Whether Addison’s mother greeted the Duke with a smile or with a shout depended on the day.
Addison realised he’d been like his mother. Rebellious.
And he’d rebelled with a vengeance.
He’d followed along with that kind of life, until he’d had three very long days to think about it.
Then he’d decided to keep upheaval to a minimum and over time it had surprised him how much he liked a life without strife. He’d even let Mrs Crisp and the butler stay longer than he should have because letting them go would disrupt things. He’d hoped for a trouble-free home. But it wasn’t working out. It wasn’t the smooth well-ordered life he’d planned.
Sophia had clung to him, shivering. He could have fought an army, but he hadn’t been sure how to handle tears. And when he’d sat with her she’d relaxed and he’d felt stronger than ten men.
In such a short time, he’d become accustomed to her presence. He liked having her nearby. Their mornings had evolved into a little ritual of sorts, rather like he’d had with the butler, except absolutely nothing like that.
The first manservant had been agreeable and too loquacious. The second, Beldon, had stayed to hold Addison’s shirt and rather annoyed him with his stone demeanour and wall of perfect silence. He’d never felt at peace in the room while either was assisting him.
Sophia would investigate something as she stood, not always in the same place, and relaxed or fidgeted or studied something, even if it was appearing to examine the back of her hands while her mind was far away. Sometimes the mirror reflected her expressions.
She didn’t seem able to be completely still. Sometimes she would ask him questions about whether he’d noticed any dust, or did he mind if she replaced a table covering or she’d beg his pardon for leaving an upper storey window unlatched that he’d not even noticed open.
Sophia had a serenity about her. A peacefulness. Having her near relaxed him. Reminded him that the world had simpler times. She was an intricate treasure of serenity. So innocent. Their kiss had been like a thousand first kisses all rolled into one.
He should never have tasted her lips. He’d never be able to convince himself that the kiss didn’t truly happen. That it was a mirage.
Nothing so beautiful could be false.
He’d been aware of the hooks on the back of her dress. The femininity of hooks fascinated him. Perfect little latches. He touched his thumb to his fingers, imagining the crisp twist of them under his fingertips.
And then he’d mentally cursed at himself.
His housekeeper was busy and did not need him thinking about her. Or kissing her. The moment of holding her had been necessary. She’d needed reassurance, but a kiss wasn’t supportive. At least the ones they’d shared.
He didn’t need to be spending his hours with her in such awareness, aroused by the way her actions captivated him and her smiles flourished inside him.
His well-ordered household had been swept away with her tears. And a kiss to cherish. A kiss to ruin his well-ordered plans.
He didn’t want her to leave.
If the romance didn’t go well, how could he bring a wife into a life with his former lover in it?
But then he tossed out his reservations. The work had been going well. He could set her up in a residence of her own and take care of her. She would be protected. He saw himself following in his father’s footsteps and remembered the harshness his parents shared with each other. A life like that would not be good for anyone.
She couldn’t be his mistress and he didn’t want to wed. A wife would not understand the hours he needed to devote to his success. Would not understand how little time he had for her. Then there could be children and he recalled how distant his own father had often been. How he’d felt when one parent pulled him one way and the other, instructed him differently and he’d seen no option but to rebuff both directions. If he’d chosen one parent’s wishes over the other, the results would have been even more explosive.
People had noticed his composure when taking on the most intricate and tense projects. None had been as involved and thorny as his childhood.
He appreciated both his parents. They had prepared him, accidentally, more than they could have ever grasped, for the investments.
But they’d not prepared him for marriage. Only to avoid it.
Sophia opened Merry’s door without knocking.
Merry sniffled, a huge black cat in her arms.
‘I can’t go back to Mrs Wilson’s.’ Merry’s voice rose. ‘I can’t.’
Sophia sighed. ‘You can stay. But the cat has to go. It caused me a fright...on the stairs.’
Merry moved the cat around and Sophia saw mournful eyes on both of them.
‘It’s Rufflestiltskin. Ruffles needs love, too. Ruffles has been there for me. Day in and day out. Mrs Wilson hates Ruffles and she would never let me bring Rufflestiltskin back. You know what it is like to struggle.’
‘I’m sorry. For both of you. But it must go. In the morning. Or you are going with it. And you should never have jeopardised my employment like that.’
Merry sniffed. ‘I told it to go out the window when it needed to roam. I opened the door and it got out before I could catch it and I didn’t know which way it ran. I was trying to find it when I head the clatter. Rufflestiltskin came running back and tried to hide in the crate.’
Sophia’s lips thinned. ‘The beast pounced on me out of nowhere. I could have tumbled down the stairs.’
Merry lowered her head.
The cat gave a soft meow. Almost a beg.
She shook her head, but her heart softened. She couldn’t bear to see an animal suffer and this one needed a place to live as much as she had.
‘We can’t keep the cat. Addison will be furious.’
‘I will explain to Ruffles it is all your idea.’
‘You should have told me.’
‘I meant to. But Ruffles was nervous about moving. She casts up her accounts when she’s nervous and I didn’t think that would get the two of you off to a good start. It certainly didn’t with Mrs Wilson.’
‘Merry...’
‘I know,’ Merry admitted. ‘But I love Ruffles.’
Sophia wondered if she’d made a mistake. ‘I’m going to find Humphrey tomorrow...to see if he’ll be a butler here for one day. Keep Ruffles in the crate and perhaps we can talk Humphrey into taking him when he leaves. Maybe Ruffles will keep Humphrey from freezing to death when it gets cold.’
‘I like Humphrey, but it’s safer to keep the cat here than it is to let Humphrey in the house. Rufflestiltskin has never got foxed and taken a nap in the middle of a performance.’
‘I know. But Humphrey can usually keep a part for one day. I’ll get him here, in costume, and get him out. The former butler left quickly and apparently the master has his coat and trousers because he left them behind. They’ll fit Humphrey well enough for one day.’
When she left the room, a warning bell sounded in her head. She knew she should listen to it.
But if Humphrey was able to act the part of a butler for one evening, Addison would let the coachman take Humphrey and Rufflestiltskin back to the tavern. The cat probably wasn’t used to living in such meagre surroundings, but it would have to make do, just as she was with Humphrey.
He loved a performance, at least on opening night. Unfortunately, he couldn’t always abstain from drink until the finale.
The bell rang and Sophia ran for the heated water, pouring it into the pitcher and going quickly to Addison’s room.
Her heart thumped in her chest and it wasn’t all from the movement up the stairs. Part of it was her reaction to seeing Addison again.
She paused at the door, then gave a brief knock and walked into his private rooms. He stood by the basin, shirtless, brushing his hair. She moved forward and he stepped aside as she poured the water into the bowl for him.
Her concentration was on the night before. The moments of him holding her. The kiss. And what he’d say to her. Yet it seemed a different world in the morning light and they didn’t seem the same people.
They weren’t looking at each other or speaking, but it somehow seemed their bodies were remembering, connecting and reliving the kiss.
He mixed the shaving soap and lathered up.
She knew, if he had a valet, the man would likely have done that for him. But she’d never felt right about moving forward and asking if she could help. He would have said no.
He lowered the brush into the soap, unmoving. Appearing to gather himself. So unlike him. ‘Are you recovered from last night?’
‘Yes. Again. I beg your pardon for being so nervous.’
‘Again. Nothing to apologise for.’
He gave her a glance. Just a glance, held for a moment, and again their bodies spoke.
She comprehended that she stood closer than she usually did and he shaved more carefully, slower, and with the grace a perfect sculpture might use if it came alive.
He finished shaving and she watched the muscles move beneath the surface of his skin. He was well formed, words which didn’t do him justice. Much in the same way a person might have suggested Michelangelo was of moderate talent or da Vinci was good enough for an artist.
And he did need a haircut, she supposed. She probably should have offered to cut it for him. She’d shorn a man’s hair many times, but the main requirement had been to remove most of it. Perfection hadn’t been expected and she would hate to be the one who butchered those locks.
They curled around his ears and, while she hadn’t touched them, she could feel them. They were luxurious. Soft against the man who had more strength in his muscles than he had a right to have.
She’d been told by Cook he sometimes toiled at the docks when shipments arrived, moving crates aside, checking manifests and showing other employees what was expected. The efforts showed on his body in a way other men would be envious of.
She’d already examined each picture on the wall...both of them. What she didn’t know was why he had an engraving of a knight battling a dragon and the other of the dragon, one foot on the knight’s chest and with the sword raised high.
She deliberated on the images. ‘Why do you have those pictures on the wall? Is it some days you slay the dragon and some days he gets you? Life.’
He lowered the blade for a moment, smiled, gave a brief perusal of the engravings, as if he’d never seen them, and then continued shaving, speaking around the swipes of the blade.
‘They came with the house, I believe.’
‘Oh.’ Well, she’d asked. She took in a deep breath. ‘I told Merry the cat has to go. We’ve not found a place for it yet.’
‘Ask the coachman. He will be certain to give it a home. He doesn’t believe a person can have too many horses, or pets—unless they are eating something he’s planted. And a cat is fairly certain to leave greenery alone.’
‘Merry will be so pleased.’
‘Perhaps I overreacted. I saw how terrified you were, though, and never wanted that to happen again.’
He’d finished shaving and was wiping his hands, and as the moment expanded, again the air changed, but this time it was with a feeling of separation.
Eyes full of compassion, he said, ‘I don’t need anything else this morning.’
Disappointment filled her and perhaps a bit of relief that the kiss no longer seemed to linger in the air between them. The next time they met it would be the same as if it had never happened. Which somehow made her sad.
She prepared to leave, but then something caused her to hesitate and she caught his gaze on her. Warm and riveting, in a way she’d never seen anyone else observe her.
For a moment, neither moved, held together by the longing in his eyes and the same emotion inside her.
‘I wish I’d stayed last night,’ she said. ‘With you.’
‘Sophia.’ A caress. Soft, low and not just the use of her name. ‘I apologise.’
‘You did nothing wrong. Unless you feel it was incorrect to comfort me.’
‘I suppose it was. In the way that I did it. I should have called Cook or the new maid.’
‘I’m grateful you didn’t.’ The moments between them had given her solace the rest of the night. Only the intensity of the feelings of comfort Addison gave her could erase the terror of being unable to move, run or even scream.
‘I shouldn’t have held you.’
She didn’t believe that. She really didn’t. She suspected if she didn’t get him out of her yearnings, she would need to find a position somewhere else so she didn’t long for him. ‘I understand you feel that way. And I hope you aren’t affronted by my belief that it’s nice to have a man in my life who reacts to me as a person in my own right. And perhaps that will be enough for me. It is a new experience and I like it.’
She shook her head in amazement. Addison was one man who had the right to treat her in a subservient manner, yet, in their short time together, he’d treated her better than her husband ever did in the way he respected her.
‘Every man in your life should treat you well.’
‘I agree, but it isn’t logical to expect that.’
‘Not all marriages are happy. They seem a way to trap two people who might like each other more if they could both leave. Although that didn’t create happiness for my parents.’
‘I’ve yet to see a marriage or a romance that is truly happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a romance, in fact,’ she said.
‘They can be fun. Spirited in a good way. It’s the ending that is so difficult.’
‘If you wish to offer it, I would like a romance with you. I’ve never had one before. And I would like one.’
He didn’t flicker an eyelash. ‘A romance of the intimate kind?’ He walked closer, the towel still in his hands.
‘Preferable. But if not, I would like that also.’
Cupping her cheek, he put the barest kiss on her lips. Hardly a touch at all, but infusing her body with the feel of him. It was as if they had embraced again, yet she didn’t move.
‘Based on how I’ve seen things progress from kiss to caress, before long, we would be sharing a bed.’
His mouth touched hers again, more of a miss than a kiss, but his warm breath against her cheek heated her skin as intensely as if he’d spoken words of love within it. For seconds, his forehead rested against hers and she could have lived in the feelings growing inside her for the rest of her life.
He was correct. The ending would be painful. Unthinkable if they stayed in the same household and he began raising a family. Her heart would not continue to beat.
She had to find a new life...a place to retreat to should Addison make love to her and the end reach the natural conclusion of a master and a servant. The one Cook had warned her about. And she didn’t want to stand in the way of Addison reaching all the success he deserved.
Nor did she want to hurt herself more than she had to. And making love to Addison might be necessary. Her body cried out for his and she tried to remind it that she couldn’t destroy her life. Her future. For lovemaking.
But then she wondered if the memories might be worth it. She had lost one man she never truly loved and didn’t want to lose a man she truly loved without ever touching him.
He stepped back and she slipped out the door—not dismissed, but hoping to collect herself and needing to make sure what she’d asked for was indeed what she wanted.
An ache within her answered her questions with an unexpected clarity. Leaving the room and knowing it would be hours filled with long minutes, before she saw him again, caused her to feel bereft.
She imagined ten years in the future, without Addison, and knew she wanted the memories of a romance with him. She would hold them close the rest of her life.
With that lodged in her mind, Sophia couldn’t rest. No matter how much Addison didn’t seem inclined to let her go, if they had the romance she hoped for, the ending might be more painful than she anticipated. She would have to leave.
She’d made a promise to the little boy to visit him. If she waited, Stubby might forget all about her and, if a possibility of a different job remained, she wanted to find out.
Her curiosity compelled her to plan a visit. Best not to wait until she had no other options. Planning for future catastrophes would make her feel better.
Addison had offered her the carriage to find her butler friend, but she’d refused, knowing he needed it for the morning, and suggested she’d take a hackney if it met with his approval and he wouldn’t mind the expense.
She didn’t want the coachman seeing Humphrey’s surroundings, fearing he would report them to his master.
After she and Merry cleaned the necessary rooms, she grabbed her reticule and set out to find Humphrey.
He wasn’t at the tavern as she’d hoped, but the owner said he’d likely be back before morning and he would give Humphrey her message.
Instead of returning to Addison’s, she took the hackney to discover if she could find the sailor’s abode, allotting herself enough time to make it back to Addison’s home before dusk.
When she found the oars, she asked the driver to wait. She ran to the door and knocked.
A man, truly bigger than any she’d ever seen in her life, both in width and height, opened the door. In a few seconds, he’d sized her up and a chortle escaped his lips. ‘You be Stubby’s new sister?’
‘I was dropping by to let him know I’m doing well. Is he in?’
Stubby’s head popped into view. ‘Hello, Sister. You here to help us with the place?’
‘I can’t stay,’ she said. ‘The hackney’s waiting. I just wanted to let you know I’m fine.’ And to see if he’d told the truth.
‘Well, we can take you home,’ Stubby said.
He waved the hackney on, but the driver didn’t move, watching Sophia.
‘Sure can,’ Broomer said. ‘I’ll pay him and send him on his way if you’d like.’
‘We can show you the docks. I know ’em fore and aft.’
‘I don’t think I can,’ she said. ‘I need to return to Addison’s soon.’
His woebegone droop changed her mind and she gave a nod to let the hackney driver know it was fine, and Broomer paid him.
‘What you think of movin’ here?’ Stubby asked as the driver left. ‘We got extra room and you won’t have to do much ’cept the usual things.’
Sophia discovered she didn’t want to leave Addison’s house, or him. ‘It’s the best place I’ve ever lived and I—’ She couldn’t tell Stubby she had family there now.
Broomer returned. ‘I’ll let Peg know to watch things while we’re gone, and to get the carriage ready.’ Then he trudged away.
‘Peg used to sail ’til the waters started attackin’ ’im. I found him on the docks and brought him for Broomer to take care of ’im.’ He paused and she could see the thoughts churning in his mind. ‘Mr Addison hired a butler yet?’
‘No.’
‘You think Addison might want Peg to take my place? Be a butler?’
‘I don’t think Addison would like that. Sometimes I’m not sure he’ll let me stay.’
‘If you ever are in need of a job,’ Broomer said, returning, ‘come to us. I’ve been keeping things shipshape here for years and I’m in charge of all the hiring, and we have a fine crew to work with.’
‘I will remember that,’ she said, ‘and think about it.’
‘Sometimes you’ll have to pull Peg out from under a bed ’cause the spirits been chasin’ him,’ Stubby said.
‘If he was my size, that’d be a problem, but he’s hardly bigger than little Stub. I lift the bed up and snatch him out,’ Broomer explained.
‘I bet that’s a sight to see,’ Sophia said.
‘You could see it all the time if you lived here,’ Stubby said. ‘You sure you don’t want to stay?’
‘I’ve already been given the housekeeper job. It’s an honour.’
‘You’re about as high as Broomer now. Maybe Addison isn’t so bad.’
‘He’s kind.’
‘You’re not courtin’ him, are you?’
‘No.’ A jab went into Sophia’s heart.
‘Don’t see why not. You’re fine enough.’ Then he puffed out his cheeks and took her past another harpoon and into a seafaring sitting room filled with artifacts she’d never seen before, and started explaining where the objects had been found.
Then a spindly man hardly bigger than Stubby came into the room and told them the carriage was ready and Broomer led her to the carriage.
They went for a quick ride around the docks while Stubby chattered about each place they saw.
She had no idea of the time when Broomer walked her to Addison’s servants’ entrance and left her with an elegant bow.
It was like being in a fairy tale, but not exactly.
Broomer was nice, much the same way Stubby was.
And he would be a better man to work for because nothing about him made her senses stir and reminded her of the pleasures she could have with Addison.