yesterday afternoon to purchase some last-minute trimming
for Caro’s gown, Caro was greeted by Mr Hollingsworth who, I’m pleased, you saw
fit to invite to her birthday. Not wishing to interfere directly, I remained
just within the building and listened to Caro and Mr Hollingsworth discuss the
weather and his pleasure at having been included on the guest list for Friday’s
entertainment. Shortly afterwards the young gentleman bade her good day and
moved on again. I would say the exchange lasted about one and a half minutes.”
Despite her smile her fine hazel eyes were alight with challenge.
“If you wish to verify my story, Mrs Willow, who works in the shop, will
corroborate everything.”
“That will not be necessary,” Roland said, hastily. “It was merely
incumbent upon me to investigate the matter at Mrs Hawthorne’s request. Please
be assured that I, personally, have no concerns regarding your care of my
daughter.”
He should have left it there. Should have nodded, politely, risen,
and shown her the door. But he couldn’t help adding, “Caro’s confidence has
increased under your tutelage. I would not want to disappoint her.”
The last was a thinly veiled warning. He did not need to elaborate.
Miss Morecroft must be fully aware of her danger in making an enemy of the
mistress of the house.
Expecting her to thank him and take her leave, Roland nodded in
dismissal.
She rose.
“So I am in danger, then, of losing my position, Mr Hawthorne?” she
asked, bluntly. “Once people like Mrs Hawthorne decide menials such as myself
no longer give satisfaction it is usually not long before we are given our
marching orders.”
He regarded her with a level look. “I have said I will protect you,
Miss Morecroft.” He nodded in the direction of the door. She had to go, now. He
wasn’t sure how much longer he could trust himself to refrain from reassuring her,
in the most unseemly fashion, of her security. The knowledge made his
expression sterner, his stance more rigid.
She took a step towards him. “You are to leave for London this
afternoon for several days.”
He registered the rise and fall of her chest, the concern in her
eyes. “That’s all the opportunity Mrs Hawthorne needs. After all, I am in
charge of her girls, as well as Caro. What then, sir? Remember, I have nowhere
else to go.”
Retreating, he turned to stare out of the window. “I am not one to
tolerate injustice, Miss Morecroft.” He could feel his breath quickening and
the blood surging to his extremities. This was madness. She had to go. Now!
“Yes, you are a fair man,” she said, angling herself so that she was
within his vision.
He ignored the rustle of her gown but the scent of orange flower
water made him turn his head.
“And that,” she said, the shadow of a smile upon her beautiful face,
“is why I want to stay. That, and my sincere affection for the girls. Your
warning suggests it would be wise to explore alternative avenues of
employment.” Her eyes were dark with entreaty. “I do not know whether the fault
is mine alone, or whether my father’s wrongs have sealed my fate, but I do know
that I love it here, Mr Hawthorne — working for you — and that I don’t
want to leave.”
“Yes, yes,” he said, suddenly finding himself in possession of her
hand. He had no idea whether he’d taken it in response to her distress, or
whether she might have offered it to him. “You have, I assure you, given every
satisfaction.” He stopped, colouring at his choice of words, and did not like
the fact that she smiled back, rather like a cat, her face tilted to one side,
her eyes bright with mischief beneath demurely lowered lashes.
What might have happened next, had footsteps not sounded in the
passageway, he did not care to dwell upon, for his actions were not about to be
dictated by his head — he was uncomfortably aware of that. But the sound
of Cecily’s voice was like cold water upon him and the next he could
for Caro’s gown, Caro was greeted by Mr Hollingsworth who, I’m pleased, you saw
fit to invite to her birthday. Not wishing to interfere directly, I remained
just within the building and listened to Caro and Mr Hollingsworth discuss the
weather and his pleasure at having been included on the guest list for Friday’s
entertainment. Shortly afterwards the young gentleman bade her good day and
moved on again. I would say the exchange lasted about one and a half minutes.”
Despite her smile her fine hazel eyes were alight with challenge.
“If you wish to verify my story, Mrs Willow, who works in the shop, will
corroborate everything.”
“That will not be necessary,” Roland said, hastily. “It was merely
incumbent upon me to investigate the matter at Mrs Hawthorne’s request. Please
be assured that I, personally, have no concerns regarding your care of my
daughter.”
He should have left it there. Should have nodded, politely, risen,
and shown her the door. But he couldn’t help adding, “Caro’s confidence has
increased under your tutelage. I would not want to disappoint her.”
The last was a thinly veiled warning. He did not need to elaborate.
Miss Morecroft must be fully aware of her danger in making an enemy of the
mistress of the house.
Expecting her to thank him and take her leave, Roland nodded in
dismissal.
She rose.
“So I am in danger, then, of losing my position, Mr Hawthorne?” she
asked, bluntly. “Once people like Mrs Hawthorne decide menials such as myself
no longer give satisfaction it is usually not long before we are given our
marching orders.”
He regarded her with a level look. “I have said I will protect you,
Miss Morecroft.” He nodded in the direction of the door. She had to go, now. He
wasn’t sure how much longer he could trust himself to refrain from reassuring her,
in the most unseemly fashion, of her security. The knowledge made his
expression sterner, his stance more rigid.
She took a step towards him. “You are to leave for London this
afternoon for several days.”
He registered the rise and fall of her chest, the concern in her
eyes. “That’s all the opportunity Mrs Hawthorne needs. After all, I am in
charge of her girls, as well as Caro. What then, sir? Remember, I have nowhere
else to go.”
Retreating, he turned to stare out of the window. “I am not one to
tolerate injustice, Miss Morecroft.” He could feel his breath quickening and
the blood surging to his extremities. This was madness. She had to go. Now!
“Yes, you are a fair man,” she said, angling herself so that she was
within his vision.
He ignored the rustle of her gown but the scent of orange flower
water made him turn his head.
“And that,” she said, the shadow of a smile upon her beautiful face,
“is why I want to stay. That, and my sincere affection for the girls. Your
warning suggests it would be wise to explore alternative avenues of
employment.” Her eyes were dark with entreaty. “I do not know whether the fault
is mine alone, or whether my father’s wrongs have sealed my fate, but I do know
that I love it here, Mr Hawthorne — working for you — and that I don’t
want to leave.”
“Yes, yes,” he said, suddenly finding himself in possession of her
hand. He had no idea whether he’d taken it in response to her distress, or
whether she might have offered it to him. “You have, I assure you, given every
satisfaction.” He stopped, colouring at his choice of words, and did not like
the fact that she smiled back, rather like a cat, her face tilted to one side,
her eyes bright with mischief beneath demurely lowered lashes.
What might have happened next, had footsteps not sounded in the
passageway, he did not care to dwell upon, for his actions were not about to be
dictated by his head — he was uncomfortably aware of that. But the sound
of Cecily’s voice was like cold water upon him and the next he could
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