Chapter 18

The noise beside you, dripping coldly, purely,

 

Ainsley walked slowly down the second-floor hall at Marshall House, weary from another long day. He began to unbutton his shirt and then slipped off his waistcoat, draping it over the crook of his arm. He required sleep most of all but he knew he would not find it that night. His mind was held hostage by the images he saw that day, another child snuffed of life and butchered like an animal. Ainsley had not slept well in the past weeks and he held little hope of finding any rest in the coming hours.

He turned the corner to his room and found Julia next to his desk, leaning in while surveying some sketches he had drawn.

“Julia.”

Startled, she looked up and quickly backed away from the desk, clutching the feather duster in her hand, closer to her chest. “My apologies, my lord,” she said avoiding his gaze. “They only caught my eye for a minute.”

Ainsley stepped closer, interested in seeing which ones she had seen. His often gruesome, anatomical sketches he left at his office, always fearful one of the maids or even his father might see them. At home, he made sure his subjects were more neutral, and not related to his work. He could see she had found his sketches of his mother, visions he had held in his memories for years, images he was eager to get down on paper after her passing lest he forget them entirely. He pulled the pages off his desk, aligning them so that the corners and edges matched. One remained unfinished, abandoned once he had started work on the surgeon case.

“They are quite good,” Julia said, as she eased away from the desk, heading for the door.

“Margaret told me you were unwell,” Ainsley called after her. He placed the pages down, hiding them beneath a leather portfolio.

“Not unwell,” Julia answered turning, “just overtired.”

Ainsley nodded. There was a quiet tension between them, filling the room like a mist from the Thames. Ainsley wanted so much to go to her, pull her into his arms, but she looked guarded against him. He had wondered if she regretted their coupling, more so if she was angered with him for it.

“I wanted to offer an apology. I never meant to take advantage of you in that way.” The words almost choked him. He wanted her and presumed she wanted him too. She was a stunning woman, but there was more to it than that. There was an unspoken passion between them, there always had been, and he wished there could have been an easy solution to their mutual desire. “It was wrong for me to abuse my position and I shall never do anything like that again.” He turned slightly to hide his discomfort at the words. He could not tell her he cared nothing, for it simply was not true.

“I’m not angry,” she answered, almost panicked, “if that’s what you think.”

Ainsley turned toward her. “You aren’t angered with me?”

“No,” Julia answered, before she glanced toward the door. “I thought perhaps you would be angered with me,” she said, “or already grown tired of me.”

Ainsley let out a quick breath and shook his head. “Absolutely not. I will never tire of you!” He stepped toward her, pulling her behind his open door, where no one walking down the hall could see, and kissed her freely.

 

Later that night, with the entire house dark save for the lamp at Ainsley’s bedside, the young doctor looked over the sleeping woman in his bed and quietly watched the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. Resting on her side, Julia’s cinnamon hair lay loose on the pillow as she cradled her cheek in the crook of her arm. Ainsley reached over, brushing her hair back from her face, and touched her cheek with his finger. Never had he been with anyone so pure. It seemed almost a dream that she could consider him worthy of her attention. Maid or not, she bore a confidence, an air of royalty that placed her well above the station of her birth. Ainsley smiled, remembering how he had seen that in her the moment he first laid eyes on her.

It seemed unfair, he realized, for her to be born into such circumstances. For her to grow up in an orphanage, to be trained for service from such an early age, her first and lasting misfortune to be born to a poor, sickly mother while he, Margaret, and Daniel bore no such burden.

Ainsley’s hand trembled at the thought, the cruelty of fate. Julia stirred and opened her eyes, a smile touching the corners of her lips. “You do not sleep,” she said softly.

“I cannot,” he answered, disheartened.

She looked him over, pensive and concerned. “Your work haunts you,” she said. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Ainsley nodded. “I will not tell you the horrors that I see.” He stroked her hair gently, letting it trail over the curves of her back.

“You could,” she answered earnestly. “It will help ease the burden you carry.”

Ainsley smiled at her offer but shook his head. “No, it is my burden alone.”

She slipped closer, wrapping her arm over his bare chest and snuggling into him. He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his lips. Before long he heard the slow, rhythmic sounds of sleep come over her and he turned to snuff the light of the lamp.

 

When Ainsley came down for breakfast he found Maxwell standing at attention in the foyer and immediately Ainsley’s mood was soured. The man was not his first choice for butler but, out of the list of candidates, he had been the most qualified. He’d have to answer to his father, at any rate, who would wonder why Ainsley had passed up the chance to hire such a candidate when there were so few to choose from.

“Good morning, Lord Marshall.” Maxwell gave an exaggerated bow as Ainsley reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Has Cutter shown you the butler’s office?” Ainsley enquired, forcibly hiding his contempt for the new staff member.

“He has, Lord Marshall, and a fine office it is, sir.” Maxwell began to follow Ainsley as he passed. Eager to get back to his morgue, Ainsley went straight for the cloak closet, opened its double doors, and began riffling inside.

“Is there any way I can be of service to you, Mr. Marshall? I’m afraid our interview ended abruptly and, well, the fact is, I was surprised when the agency called me. I thought for certain I had displeased you in some way.”

Finding his coat, Ainsley turned and refused help while putting it on. “Do not mistake my hiring you as an acceptance of your character,” he said as he adjusted the collar. “In this house we frown upon our maids fraternizing with the male staff and I suspect we are not the only house in the city that operates so.”

Maxwell nodded, keeping a sharp eye on Ainsley as he spoke.

“We expect discretion in all things and will not tolerate deception.” Ainsley saw the hypocrisy in his words. His real intent was to scare Maxwell away from even looking at Julia. He couldn’t have cared less whether Maxwell entertained anyone at the end of his shift, but he wasn’t going to let this man make eyes with Julia ever again.

“Am I clear?”

Maxwell nodded obediently. “Yes, sir. I would never dream of it, sir.”

“Very well.” Ainsley turned to the clutter that made the foyer look more like a warehouse than a Belgravia entranceway. “Margaret’s auction is this evening and I am sure she will be instructing the staff most of today with auction business. Please indulge her. One more day and we shall be back to normal.” Ainsley began pulling at the cuffs of his shirt beneath the sleeves of his coat and shrugged his shoulders to entice the coat to sit properly on them.

Maxwell nodded. “Is Lady Margaret expected back soon?”

“What do you mean? Has she left the house?” Ainsley stopped his fidgeting and looked to the new butler with confusion. “It is not yet nine o’clock.”

“Yes, sir, I thought it strange as well but nor did I see it my place to question the young woman’s coming and goings.” The smile that crept over the butler’s features fell abruptly when his eyes met Ainsley’s. “Forgive me, sir.”

“You must understand, Mr. Maxwell, she is my sister and the only remaining member of my family with whom I am close. It is my wish to protect her from all things and I shall need you to be my accomplice.”

Maxwell nodded, eager to please. “Yes, sir.”

“I will speak with her when I return.” Ainsley reached into the closet and pulled down his hat from one of the shelves. “Cutter will be in charge this day but in the morrow I should like to see you at the helm. I hired you for a particular purpose and I may not like you, but I believe you will do well.” Ainsley cocked his head toward the back stairway that led down to the kitchens. “Go to Cook and familiarize yourself with our family’s requirements. My father will not return for some weeks and it is my intent that you should be thoroughly educated regarding the intimate details of this house.”

“Yes, sir.” Maxwell slipped past Ainsley and headed for the stairs.

The exchange left Ainsley depleted. The family had been spoiled for years with Billis’s quiet presence. He knew everything with regard to the family, the staff, and the needs of the house. Aside from the odd request, Billis knew what the family would need long before they did. Those days were over, Ainsley realized as he watched the new butler make his way down to the kitchens. The next few months would be fraught with mistakes, forgotten chores, and flaring tempers, and it certainly was not something Ainsley was looking forward to.