Godfrey stood there, an amused smile on his face. ‘Next time you’ll know better than to refuse, won’t you?’
Verity felt sick. This would see Sukey dismissed. She turned on the man responsible like a tiger. ‘Leave her alone! Haven’t you done enough? Just go away!’
She hurried to the distraught maid and bent down to help her, picking up the pieces. Godfrey loomed over both of them. Furious, Verity surged to her feet, a jagged shard of porcelain in her hand.
‘Were you looking for this? Go away!’
He leapt back, swearing.
‘What is…my Sèvres!’
Verity barely bit back a curse as she looked up to find Lady Faringdon, her face mottled with fury, staring down at the ruined tea service.
She turned on the maid. ‘Out! Go and pack. I expect you out within—’
‘It wasn’t Sukey’s fault!’
That halted Lady Faringdon’s tirade. Her eyes bored into Verity.
Meeting her gaze unflinchingly, Verity lied shamelessly. The truth wouldn’t help. ‘I was in a hurry. I bumped Sukey over as I came around the corner. It wasn’t her fault.’ Keep it simple. No explanations. Hopefully she won’t remember you were supposed to be going to Celia’s room—in the opposite direction.
She held her breath.
So, from his vantage point just inside his bedchamber, did Max. Obviously Godfrey didn’t confine his harassment to Selina. He opened the door a little more.
Lady Faringdon had her back to him, but she looked as though a poker had been stitched into her gown. He focused on Selina, standing between her mistress and the weeping maid. Her face was blank, expressionless, the eyes downcast.
Silence held for a moment. He could see the fierce tension in Selina’s body as she waited for the inevitable. Any moment now she’d be dismissed. She’d saved the maid at the cost of her own position. Savagely he reminded himself that it didn’t matter, that he’d look after her even if she didn’t know it.
Then a blur of movement and a ringing slap. Selina stood unflinching as her cheek flamed scarlet from the blow.
He didn’t even realise he had moved. ‘Good morning, Lady Faringdon. A little domestic disaster?’ He avoided Selina’s eyes. If he saw that mark on her cheek he might just strangle his hostess.
Lady Faringdon blanched, her hand going to her mouth. ‘Oh!’
Max waited. If she struck Selina again…
‘Why, Lord Blakehurst! I do hope we didn’t disturb you.’ With a suppressed snarl she turned on Selina. ‘Insolent hussy! I’ll deal with you later.’
Then she snapped at the maid. ‘Clean that up and get back to your duties, girl. Godfrey—our guests are waiting to go riding. You should be down already.’ Her smile became gracious. ‘And you, Lord Blakehurst? Are you not going?’
He lied without hesitation. ‘That was my intention, but I have a letter to write. I’ll follow later.’ Returning to his room, he listened as steps retreated along the corridor. He’d thought to join the riding party. Not now. He had something else to do.
Chapter Three
He found her in the schoolroom. At first she didn’t realise the door had opened and he watched her. Tidying up with a swift, calculated efficiency. Picking up paper, emptying ink-wells, shelving books. Apart from the red mark on her cheek, she looked tired. Faint smudges showed like bruises beneath her eyes.
Anger coalesced deep inside. ‘Are you all right?’ He couldn’t keep the fury from his voice. That someone had hit her, hurt her in any way—he swallowed his rage and strode into the room.
‘Oh!’ Books cascaded from her arms. ‘Oh, damn!’ She bent down to pick them up.
‘Here, let me help you.’ He bent down. ‘What’s this? Miss Mangnell? And good lord—The Mirror of Graces? How to be a proper young lady?’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘My Aunt Almeria swears by this one.’
‘Then I’m glad I don’t know her,’ muttered Selina.
Max gave a snort of laughter. ‘So am I.’
She flushed. ‘I beg your pardon. I should not have said that.’ Wary grey eyes glanced up at him. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’
The red mark on her cheek cried out. Biting off a curse, he reached out and touched it gently. ‘I came to see if you were all right. Does that hurt?’
She flinched and he dropped his hand. ‘It won’t happen again,’ he said quietly
She didn’t meet his eyes and bent to pick up a book from the floor. ‘You can’t know that.’ Her fingers whitened on the book.
‘Yes, I can,’ he said. He’d never raised his hand to a woman. And he didn’t see himself starting with this waif. ‘Why did you do it, Selina? No doubt she will dismiss you later when she has had time to find another governess. Why not tell her the truth?’
‘You think she would have believed me?’ Careful fingers began to smooth the pages of the abused book. ‘Even if she had, she would have assumed Sukey asked for it. That she attracted Godf— Mr Faringdon’s attention on purpose. She would have been dismissed all the quicker.’
He couldn’t deny the truth of that. But still…his conscience informed him that he was a complete and utter knave to make his dis-honourable offer when she was desperate. He swore mentally. What else could he do? Leave her to be flung out? To starve? Or worse?
His conscience, which had never taken much interest in his dealings with the fair sex, pointed out that what he was about to propose definitely came under the heading of Worse. Worse than death, in fact. The devil it does! I’m not planning to rape her!
He planned to seduce Selina. Gently. And make sure she had everything she could possibly desire. His blood burned at the idea of teaching her a few things he doubted she had the least idea of desiring. How could she after Godfrey? Best to lead up to it gradually.
‘Selina—where will you go?’
Puzzled grey eyes met his. ‘Go? What are you talking about, my lord?’
Patiently he said, ‘When your mistress dismisses you. She is unlikely to give you much of a reference. Do you have somewhere to go?’
‘Somewhere to go?’ He saw her swallow convulsively.
‘Yes. I—’
‘She won’t dismiss me.’
Max, cut off before he’d fairly started, blinked. ‘Pardon me?’
‘She won’t dismiss me.’
Unable to believe that she could mean it, Max pressed on. ‘Selina—don’t be foolish. Have you thought of another position? Another…type of position.’ His cravat was about to strangle him, and the puzzled look she gave him made it worse. Damn! Why was offering a carte blanche suddenly so hellishly difficult?!
‘No. I have no references. But she won’t dismiss me.’
He stifled a crack of laughter. References? He’d never asked for references. All the references he required were flitting around the room before him, tidying away quills, books and a battered globe. Abandoning that tack, he asked gently, ‘Sweetheart, what do you want?’
She turned, eyes wide. ‘Why did you call me that?’
He