Free Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story by K.L. O'Keefe

pointed out. “And your grandmother is very old. It is really only a matter of time.”
    James fumbled with the book on his lap, but he didn't have the heart to read it, not when his mother was filling his head with doom and gloom. “What a terrible thing to say!”
    “ It may be terrible, but it is true, James. You know it is!” Greta lifted her needlepoint and resumed her task. “Honestly, I thought you would be married by the time you were thirty.”
    “ I'm not thirty,” he pointed out, “...yet.”
    “ True, but you are nine and twenty. If marriage before thirty is your goal, you have only seven months remaining.”
    “ It isn't my goal.”
    “ But it should be your goal!” his mother insisted. “If not for my sake, then for your poor grandmother's sake. Nothing would make her happier.”
    “ Nothing would make you happier!” James countered. “You want grandchildren.”
    “ True. And you need an heir!”
    “ You make it sound as if I'm running out of time... as if I will be beyond hope within a year!”
    “ You should be glad you're not a woman, because at your age, you would be beyond hope!”
    “ Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I should be looking for a wife.” With a sigh, James turned his attention back to the window. As he stared at the glass, an image of an enchanting blonde angel flashed before his mind's eye. “You know, Mother... I met a woman.”
    Once again, she cast her needlepoint aside. “Really!? When?! Who is she? Where did you meet her?”
    “ At Montforth Hall,” James said, though he immediately regretted his confession. If his mother happened to meet the women of Montforth Hall, she would assume he was talking about one of the ladies of the house—Georgiana and Edith. However, the woman of his dreams was a maid, and he knew his mother would never accept that fact. “She was a rare beauty.”
    “ Wonderful! Then you must call on her tomorrow! And bring flowers, James. She won't be able to resist a handsome man bearing gifts!”
    James closed his eyes, and a sinister smile curled across his lips. What would the maid think if he handed her a flower? How would she react? Would she accept it, or would she think his behavior was inappropriate? Would she let herself fall for him, or would she push him away?
    When James opened his eyes, his gaze was fixed on the window. The lack of sunshine did little to bolster his hopes.
    As he stared out the window, the crystalline lattice of a single snowflake fluttered near the pane.

    * * *

    “ Cynthia, here.”
    That was the only warning Robert gave her before he tossed the onion in her direction. She tried to catch it, but it ended up bouncing off her shoulder and tumbling to the floor.
    “ Robert!” she shrieked.
    “ Sorry.” He retrieved the onion from the floor and, with a cheeky smile, gently passed it to Cynthia.
    Cynthia laid the onion on the counter and gave her shoulder a dramatic rub. “So, you're going to start pelting me with vegetables now? That hurt!”
    “ Oh, come on. I'm not pelting you with vegetables! That was a gentle toss!”
    “ Let me see your hands!” Cynthia demanded.
    “ My hands?” Robert held his hands behind his back. “Why do you want to see my hands? Are you going to smack my knuckles?”
    “ No!” Robert's petulant behavior had her rolling her eyes. “I want to see if they're clean! The state of your hands often leaves something to be desired. If we are going to cook, your hands should be impeccably clean!”
    “ Maybe they should be dirty?” Robert countered. “Wouldn't it give you satisfaction to know your evil stepmother might be ingesting some of the filthy fungus under my fingernails?” When he saw her wrinkle her nose, he chuckled. “I'm not serious! There's no filthy fungus on my hands, I promise. As a matter of fact, I even washed my hands before we got here. They're so clean, they're practically sparkling!”
    “ Let me see them!” she insisted.
    Robert shoved his hands in her