Free Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon Page B
Authors: Constance O'Banyon
Tags: Fiction, adventure, Romance, Historical, Adult, Action, Mission, Temptation, 18th Century, enchanted, american revolution, Embrace, Deceased, englishman, Colonies, Patriotic, LAVENDER LIES, Jail Cell, Brother's Disgrace, Colonial Wench, Female Spy, Rendezvous, American Agent, Code Name, Swallow
will ask Phoebe to bring your dinner to you tonight. However, in the future you will take your meals in the dining room. I can manage the fruit, but I fear we have no pheasant—I trust chicken will suffice?" She kept her voice on an even tone and her eyes downcast so he would not see the anger that burned there. "Those are the rules as they have been laid down by the mistress of the house."
Julian looked down at the puddle of water that had dripped from his boots. "Does your mistress instruct you to be discourteous to her paying guests? Does she tolerate such behavior from a servant?"
Lavender raised her eyes against his haughty glare. "I am not a servant, sir," she murmured, knowing she had been disrespectful and her aunt would not approve. "I am Miss Lavender Daymond, niece to your landlady."
Suddenly, to her surprise, his eyes twinkled with humor and his lips twitched. "Forgive me, Miss Daymond, but your black gown and the way you were dressed—I am sorry if I mistook you for the maid."
She was aware that his eyes moved over her from head to foot, with a glance that seemed to see beneath her gown. "Think nothing of it, sir, it was an honest mistake. My black gown is worn in mourning for my father's passing." She thought she would scream if he didn't stop staring at her. "Have you no trunks?" she managed to say.
"I could find no one who would bring me here, so I left my belongings at Campbell's Tavern."
She glanced at his sodden clothing with new understanding. "Do you mean that you walked all the way here in the rain?"
Julian was growing more impatient with the woman by the minute. "I saw no other alternative open to me."
"Please follow me, and I will show you to your rooms. Jackson will fetch your baggage while you bathe."
Lavender was more sure than ever that this man was not what he seemed. By the way he had barked orders at her, she could tell he was accustomed to having everyone jump at his command. She decided to find out what he was doing in Williamsburg.
"It is not often we have travelers from Georgia stopping by. Do you have business in Williamsburg?"
"I am an artist by profession, and have come to paint the landscape."
By now they had reached the rooms he would be using and Lavender opened the door for him to proceed her inside. "An artist? Well, you have come to the right place, Mr. West. Virginia is lovely in the springtime."
She noticed that it had stopped raining, and she moved to the window and opened it a crack to allow the breeze to circulate. "You have three rooms," she pointed out. "Here you have the bedroom and a dressing room. Through the door at the end of the hallway you will find a room perfect for a studio since it catches the morning sunlight."
After testing the feather bed and finding it to his satisfaction, Julian gave Lavender a curt nod of his head, as if he were dismissing her. "I believe all is in order here, Miss Daymond. Will you send your man Jackson to me at once?"
Lavender walked to the door, glad for an excuse to escape. "If there is anything more you desire, I am sure Jackson will be of service to you. Good day to you, sir. I wouldn't stay in those wet clothes if I were you. You wouldn't want to catch the influenza."
Julian nodded at the woman, hardly noticing when she left and closed the door behind her. He did not care for females who were timid little things, afraid of every man who crossed their path. Lavender Daymond had been the most irritating female; no wonder she wasn't married. What man would tolerate her retiring manner? And she was not even of passing good looks.
He looked around the room and found it to be starkly furnished, but clean and well ordered. He stood before the window and stared out at the gray skies. Everything had gone according to plan thus far. If luck was with him, he would soon face the Swallow again-only next time, he would have the upper hand.
Lavender was more certain than ever that this man was not what he would have people
Julian looked down at the puddle of water that had dripped from his boots. "Does your mistress instruct you to be discourteous to her paying guests? Does she tolerate such behavior from a servant?"
Lavender raised her eyes against his haughty glare. "I am not a servant, sir," she murmured, knowing she had been disrespectful and her aunt would not approve. "I am Miss Lavender Daymond, niece to your landlady."
Suddenly, to her surprise, his eyes twinkled with humor and his lips twitched. "Forgive me, Miss Daymond, but your black gown and the way you were dressed—I am sorry if I mistook you for the maid."
She was aware that his eyes moved over her from head to foot, with a glance that seemed to see beneath her gown. "Think nothing of it, sir, it was an honest mistake. My black gown is worn in mourning for my father's passing." She thought she would scream if he didn't stop staring at her. "Have you no trunks?" she managed to say.
"I could find no one who would bring me here, so I left my belongings at Campbell's Tavern."
She glanced at his sodden clothing with new understanding. "Do you mean that you walked all the way here in the rain?"
Julian was growing more impatient with the woman by the minute. "I saw no other alternative open to me."
"Please follow me, and I will show you to your rooms. Jackson will fetch your baggage while you bathe."
Lavender was more sure than ever that this man was not what he seemed. By the way he had barked orders at her, she could tell he was accustomed to having everyone jump at his command. She decided to find out what he was doing in Williamsburg.
"It is not often we have travelers from Georgia stopping by. Do you have business in Williamsburg?"
"I am an artist by profession, and have come to paint the landscape."
By now they had reached the rooms he would be using and Lavender opened the door for him to proceed her inside. "An artist? Well, you have come to the right place, Mr. West. Virginia is lovely in the springtime."
She noticed that it had stopped raining, and she moved to the window and opened it a crack to allow the breeze to circulate. "You have three rooms," she pointed out. "Here you have the bedroom and a dressing room. Through the door at the end of the hallway you will find a room perfect for a studio since it catches the morning sunlight."
After testing the feather bed and finding it to his satisfaction, Julian gave Lavender a curt nod of his head, as if he were dismissing her. "I believe all is in order here, Miss Daymond. Will you send your man Jackson to me at once?"
Lavender walked to the door, glad for an excuse to escape. "If there is anything more you desire, I am sure Jackson will be of service to you. Good day to you, sir. I wouldn't stay in those wet clothes if I were you. You wouldn't want to catch the influenza."
Julian nodded at the woman, hardly noticing when she left and closed the door behind her. He did not care for females who were timid little things, afraid of every man who crossed their path. Lavender Daymond had been the most irritating female; no wonder she wasn't married. What man would tolerate her retiring manner? And she was not even of passing good looks.
He looked around the room and found it to be starkly furnished, but clean and well ordered. He stood before the window and stared out at the gray skies. Everything had gone according to plan thus far. If luck was with him, he would soon face the Swallow again-only next time, he would have the upper hand.
Lavender was more certain than ever that this man was not what he would have people
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