Free Rebel Enchantress by Leigh Greenwood Page B

no more than glance at Delilah during the meal, but she thought she detected a note of sympathy in his voice. Serena must have heard it too because she unwisely decided to pursue the topic.
    “I never admired the English,” she stated, completely ignoring the fact that she had been born in England herself, “but I should hope they have better servants. This girl is useless.”
    “Why?”
    “Just look at her.”
    Nathan sat forward in his chair and scrutinized Delilah intently. A flush rose in her cheeks.
    “Speaking purely from a man’s point of view, I find her appearance quite pleasing.”
    Delilah’s cheeks flamed pink.
    “Go wait for the next course,” Serena snapped at her. “And make sure it arrives hot.”
    The peas are hot, Mother,” Priscilla said after Delilah had left the room. “They burned my tongue.”
    “What do you mean her appearance is pleasing?” Serena demanded of her nephew, ignoring her daughter. “She has no notion how to carry herself …”
    Nathan’s mind filled with the picture of Delilah’s upright carriage and the way it thrust her young breasts well forward.
    “… her hair is too thick and long …”
    He could imagine the clean scent of her luxuriant dark tresses as he buried his face in her neck.
    “… her skin is actually brown …”
    He longed to touch her shoulders to see if they felt as soft and smooth as they looked.
    “ … and that dress is an embarrassment.”
    Unburdened by thick layers of cloth and whalebone stays, the dress clung to Delilah’s limbs, delineating every part of her body as she moved. Nathan’s own body tightened in response to visualizing that.
    “I would be embarrassed for her to serve any of my friends.”
    Nathan forced himself to focus on his aunt. “Then let Lester do all the serving or provide her with new clothes. Priscilla can teach her deportment. You can even offer to cut and style her hair,” Nathan said, imps of mischief dancing in his eyes. “That way you can be sure it’s just the way you like it.”
    “It’s unthinkable I should personally tend a servant,” Serena stated, aghast. “Not even your Uncle Ezra would have suggested that.”
    “He never provided you with a servant to tend,” Nathan pointed out. “Lester tells me that until Uncle built this house, you did all the cooking and cleaning.”
    Unchivalrously forced from her position, Serena gave vent to the wrath burning inside her. “Ezra was a cruel, tightfisted man. It pleased him to see me work until I was ready to drop.”
    “Then be content you no longer have to,” Nathan said. “Servants will do all the better for an occasional word of praise. As for making unfounded accusations …”
    Nathan left the sentence unfinished, but his gaze settled unwaveringly on his aunt.
    “I like Delilah,” Priscilla said. “Don’t you?”
    Nathan felt sure Priscilla had asked that question for a particular reason, but her simple-minded stare obscured any thoughts that might be in her head.
    “I hardly know Miss Stowbridge,” Nathan replied, “certainly not well enough to have developed an emotional response to her.”
    “But you brought her here in the buggy. An hour is an awfully long time.” There was definitely insinuation in her voice.
    “Are you accusing your cousin of improper advances to a farmer’s daughter?” Serena asked, aghast.
    Priscilla pouted. “I just said I liked Delilah.”
    “Then I hope you will make friends with her,” Nathan said. “She’s bound to feel lonely.”
    “She’ll do nothing of the kind,” Serena said. “If that girl is lonely, she can go home.”
    Nathan steered the conversation into other channels for the remainder of dinner, but as Lester served the dessert, he said, “I’ll be having quite a few people here on Thursday night. Ask Mrs. Stebbens to prepare some refreshments. You’ll know what kinds they like better than I. We’ll also need extra wine and ale.”
    “How many will there be?” Lester