Page 70 of The Maid of Fairbourne Hall

“Pins,” she murmured and managed to reach up and pull them from behind each ear.

She was helping him? Yes, she was, she realized.

She suddenly wanted very much to stand before him as herself, with no more guise or lies between them.

Her hands hesitated, then lowered to her sides.

Heart hammering, and more self-conscious than ever, she waited.

Waited for him to bare her hair. Her identity.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled the wig from her head. He asked, bemused, “You just happened to have this lying about?”

“I meant to wear it for a masquerade.”

He chuckled, deep in his throat. An intimate sound that warmed her. “And you certainly did. The longest masquerade in history.”

He set the wig aside, his eyes lingering on her face, her hair. He reached up, stroking a tendril at her temple that had come free when he’d pulled the wig away.

Then Nathaniel cupped the sides of her face once more. He leaned near, lowering his face toward hers, tipping her chin one way, angling his the other. His eyes roamed her cheeks, her eyes, her lips.

She felt warm and flushed, as though she had sipped orange wine. He leaned nearer yet, and she could smell his sweet peppermint breath and shaving soap.

Her voice sounding young and nearly giddy in her ears, she asked, “Are you certain, sir, you ought to kiss a housemaid?”

No answering chuckle. “I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” he whispered, his breath tickling her upper lip with each syllable.

He was going to kiss her. Sweet heaven. Nathaniel Upchurch was going to kiss her. Her knees suddenly felt weak, her heart shot through with electricity.

His head dipped and his lips touched hers, softly, faintly.

Too faintly. She couldn’t help it. She leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth more tightly to his.

In a second, his arms were around her, molding her body to his in an embrace that stole what was left of her breath.

Is this what love is? Oh, what I have been missing!

He pulled his mouth away, grasped her shoulders firmly and took a half step back. “Forgive me, I should not. Not so...”

He cleared his throat. If Nathaniel had lost his self-control for one moment, now by painful degrees he mastered it again.

He removed his hands, and she felt bereft, nearly chastised, for she had been as overcome with passion as he.

For a moment she feared he regretted the kiss, but he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, chasing those doubts away.

He then placed his fingertip where his lips had been, tracing the hollow beneath her cheekbone.

She asked, “How long have you known?”

“Ever since I saw you coming from your bath with a towel around your head.”

“So long! And you never said a word?”

“At first I thought I must be imagining things. Then I feared you would be mortified to be discovered in such a role. Finally, I decided I needed to learn what was going on—why you were here, and what you were running from—before I tipped my hand.”

“And have you?”

“I learnt of your coming inheritance and of Sterling Benton’s desperate financial situation.

That coupled with the installation of his favorite nephew under his roof led me to believe he was pressuring the two of you to marry.

The pressure must have been strong indeed to cause you to run away.

To”—he gestured vaguely toward her discarded wig and feather duster—“drive you to this.”

She nodded. “You’re right.”

His gaze roved her face. “I am glad you came to Fairbourne Hall.”

She glanced at him, uncertain. “Are you?”

“Yes,” he said, mouth quirked in a lopsided grin. “We needed a new maid.”

He leaned in for another kiss.

Voices in the corridor brought them both up short. This was not the best manner nor place to end her charade. She quickly slicked back her hair and pulled the wig into position. He tugged on her cap for her and crossed to the door while she replaced her spectacles.

Fiona pushed open the door and started at seeing Nathaniel just inside. “Pardon me, sir.”

“No matter, I was just leaving.”

Fiona gaped at Margaret, brows high. Margaret hoped Fiona didn’t notice her eyebrows, or lack thereof.

In return, Margaret shrugged and gave Fiona a bewildered look. It was no doubt convincing.

For she was bewildered.

Nathaniel took himself back down to the library, whistling as he went.

Helen looked up at him from the novel she was reading. “What has you so happy?”

His only answer was a grin.

Hudson, standing near the library window, gave the old globe on its stand an idle twirl, running his finger along the equator as it spun.

Helen watched him. “How much of the world have you seen, Mr. Hudson?”

“Oh, I saw many places in my younger days. The Cape of Africa, Trinidad, Tobago, Antigua.... I traveled with a merchant for several years before I decided to stay on in Barbados.” He looked over at her. “And you, Miss Helen?”

“Me? I have been nowhere, save London. Do you miss traveling?”

With a glance toward Nathaniel, he said apologetically, “I admit to a growing restlessness, being indoors so much of the time, and being so far from the sea. I was raised along the coast, you know. And later in Barbados, I was never far from the sea.”

She nodded thoughtfully.

“I don’t suppose, Miss Helen...” he began cautiously, as if he dreaded her answer. “I don’t suppose you can imagine life anywhere besides Fairbourne Hall?”

She looked up at the ceiling in thought.

“Actually, Mr. Hudson, after my years of self-imposed seclusion, I find myself longing for a change. I don’t know if you are aware, but my first love was a sea captain.

I looked forward to life on the coast, perhaps even traveling with him from time to time. ”

Hudson’s eyes dulled. “I am sorry for your loss.”

She nodded. “I felt sorry for myself too. For a long while. Too long. It was a blow at the time, but it is in the past. I am ready to leave it there.”

Hudson studied her closely. “I am glad to hear it.”

“Which part?”

He grinned. “All of the above.”

Nathaniel was glad to hear it as well.

Arnold appeared in the open doorway. “That Mr. Tompkins is here to see you again, sir.”

Nathaniel pursed his lips in surprise. “Is he? Very well, I shall see him in the morning room.”

Hudson stepped toward the door. “Shall I go with you?”

“No thank you. I will see him myself.”

“Then I suppose I shall return to my duties,” Hudson said with little relish.

Helen looked over at him. “I have a few things to discuss with you, Mr. Hudson, if you wouldn’t mind staying a little longer?”

Hudson stilled. “Of course, miss.”

Helen turned toward Nathaniel. “Unless you wish me to go in with you again, like the last time...?”

Ever the big sister. “No need; stay as you are.”

Leaving Helen and Hudson in quiet conversation, Nathaniel crossed the hall. When he entered the morning room, the bald man stood, chimney-pot hat in hand. Did he not trust the under butler with it?

Nathaniel said, “Well, Tompkins. I am surprised to see you. I thought you would be celebrating your capture of the poetic Preston and spending your reward by now.”

The man smiled, but the gesture did not reach his eyes. “I have, sir. But there is still one outstanding piece of business between us.”

“If it relates to my brother, perhaps you have not heard. He has regained his senses and told the sheriff of Kent all about the ill-advised duel. The challenger has left the country, and considering what Lewis has suffered already, the sheriff has decided not to pursue legal action.”

“I had heard that, yes, sir.”

“Then why are you here? Sorry not to claim that reward as well, from the man who hired you?”

“Finding your brother’s assailant wasn’t what he commissioned me todo.”

“No?” Anger and alarm wrestled within Nathaniel, but he clenched his jaw and waited to hear the man out.

“No.” Tompkins’s high forehead creased into many furrows. “Sorry, sir. A convenient subterfuge.”

Nathaniel guessed the answer, but still asked, “Why were you here, then?”

“I think you know, sir.”

Nathaniel merely stared at him, jaw ticking.

“I came here to find Miss Margaret Macy. Quite a reward was offered me for her return too, should I succeed.” He glanced up at Nathaniel, expectant.

Nathaniel clenched his fist at his side, torn between wanting to pummel the man and wanting to bolt from the room and find Margaret.

He said, “I take it, then, that Sterling Benton hired you?”

“Oh, not exactly hired. But he did put up the reward.”

“Too bad you failed to find her.”

One brow rose. “Oh, but I did not fail.”

Nathaniel clenched both fists now. “Oh?”

“Come, sir. We are men of the world, the both of us. And I see how it is. I would have taken her too, had Preston not shown up here the very night I meant to snag Miss Macy. And as your reward was twice Benton’s, and as I never cared for the man, I took my leave of Kent without her, wishing the both of you happy. ”

Nathaniel stared at the man, stunned.

“I only returned to tell you.” He sighed dramatically. “I needed someone to know I’d succeeded, even if I can’t tell anybody else.”

Nathaniel stepped forward, offering his hand. “Thank you, Tompkins.”

The man shook his hand firmly and smiled at last. “Thank you, sir.”

Nathaniel hesitated. “May I offer you something for your kindness?”

Pursing his lips, Tompkins shook his head. “No need. With my new reputation as the thief-taker who brought in the Poet Pirate, I’m set for life.”

Abruptly, Tompkins dug into his coat pocket. “By the way, sir. I’ve brought you some news from London. Hasn’t reached you here yet, I’d wager. I’ll leave it to you to do with it what you will.” He handed Nathaniel a torn and folded piece of newsprint.

Glancing at the torn page and seeing only a portion of the society section, Nathaniel tucked it into his pocket to read later.

No sooner had Mr. Tompkins taken his leave than Dr. Drummond arrived to pay a final call on his patient. Walking upstairs with the physician, Nathaniel quite forgot about the news smoldering in his pocket.