The Housemaid’s Scandalous Secret

‘I am sure Colonel Montague has many things to think about other than my hair, Miss Araminta,’ Lisette remarked. ‘It is black and quite ordinary, which I do not find in the least exciting and is a common shade in India.’

‘You don’t like it,’ Ross summarized.

‘Not really,’ she answered, touching Araminta’s light brown tresses with something like envy in her eyes, ‘but one must be satisfied with what one is born with. I would imagine that living in India and seeing nothing but dusky skins and black-haired natives day in and day out you would find monotonous, Colonel Montague.’

‘Not at all—quite the opposite, in fact,’ he replied, his gaze shifting to that exotic hair twisted and coiled neatly about Miss Napier’s well-shaped head, with not a hair out of place. His fingers ached to release it from the pins and to let the heavy mass tumble in waves over her shoulders and down her back, to run his fingers through the tresses and to smell its fragrance.

It began to register on Lisette that the expression on his face wasn’t dislike at all. In fact, he really did look almost admiring—and she saw something primitive flare in his eyes, which stirred her alarm and which she chose to ignore. Meeting his gaze she favoured him with an irrepressible sidewise smile. ‘You mean you really do like it?’

Ross liked it. He liked every damn thing about her. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to thrust his sister out of the room and snatch Miss Napier into his arms, to kiss the smiling mischief from her lips until she was clinging to him, melting with desire. She’d indicated a feminine concern about her hair, then calmly accepted it. This gave him the distinct impression that pretence and pretension were completely foreign to her, and that she was refreshingly unique in those ways and probably many other delightful ways as well.

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers beneath his chin, continuing to watch her from beneath hooded lids. ‘That is what I said.’

‘And my brother’s opinion matters,’ Araminta said smoothly, regarding Ross with fascinated disbelief. It was time for them to leave for their appointment, but there was something about the undercurrents flowing between her brother and her maid, something so very strange about everything, that she was reluctant to break the mood.

‘I am glad you think so, Araminta, since it is my opinion that Miss Napier is in need of some new dresses as befits her position—although it would be more pleasing to the eye to see her decked out in satin and lace.’ He studied Miss Napier surreptitiously. Beauty was moulded into every flawlessly sculpted feature of her face, but her allure went much deeper than that. It was in her voice and her graceful movements. There was something inside her that made her sparkle and glow, and she only needed the proper background and situation and elegant clothes to complement her alluring figure and exquisite features.

‘Really, Ross,’ Araminta chided lightly, ‘it’s very ungentlemanly of you to remark on that.’

A lazy smile transformed his harsh features. ‘Surely I haven’t done anything to give you the impression that I’m a gentleman!’

It was the exaggerated dismay in his voice that brought a smile to Araminta’s lips. ‘Nothing at all, and if you must know a trip to the modistes to purchase Lisette some new clothes is imminent—but ball gowns are quite out of the question.’

‘Of course they are,’ Lisette said quietly. ‘It’s quite ridiculous to contemplate such a thing—although Colonel Montague has my gratitude.’

He gave her a puzzled look. ‘For what?’

Those candid eyes lifted to his in the mirror, searching, delving, and Ross had the fleeting impression that with time she might see straight into his devious soul. She obviously hadn’t gotten his true measure, however, because a warm smile touched those soft lips of hers.

‘Why, for providing me with this opportunity.’

Her gratitude only made him feel guilty about everything, more of a disgusting fraud, for letting her think of him as some gallant white knight, instead of the black-hearted villain who had every intention of luring her into his bed.

Having watched the byplay between Ross and her maid and quite enthralled by this teasingly flirtatious side of her brother, Araminta’s eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘Ross never forgets a pretty face, Lisette. I’m quite certain that if I hadn’t mentioned that I was in need of a maid, he would have concocted some other means of renewing your acquaintance.’

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