Free Touch the Sun by Cynthia Wright

to her. "Miss, my name is Wickham and I am the butler here. I gather that you attend Mistress Wade?"
    "Uh—yes!" Meagan stared at him, astonished by his haughty manner until she realized that in the class system of servants he ranked far above her. "My name is Meagan, Wickham." He raised thick black eyebrows, waiting. "Meagan... South." What imagination, she chided herself.
    "Well, South, the head housekeeper will be here momentarily to show you your room and Mistress Wade's suite."
    "We're staying here?"
    "Of course. Until Captain Hampshire and Mistress Wade are married." He nodded slightly and disappeared around a corner.
    Meagan stood against the wall, suddenly very conscious of her grimy appearance as she watched the two couples who stood in the parlor which opened off to the left of the entry hall.
    A servant was moving among them distributing glasses of wine, and Meagan found her eyes drawn to Anne Bingham, watching as she lifted the crystal goblet to her lips. Her beauty was undeniable. She wore an exquisite gown of amber silk, rich in its very simplicity. Her hair was lightly powdered, the soft brown curls pinned up around her face while a cluster of long ringlets escaped to fall over one white shoulder. Even from a distance her elegant bone structure was unmistakable: high cheekbones, a long graceful neck, and a willowy figure combining with her innate grace to make her unforgettable. She was laughing now, and everyone's eyes were on her. William Bingham watched her proudly, confident that his newest guest was properly dazzled by Anne. His reason for living was the accumulation of wealth and beauty, and his wife was the most splendid of all his possessions, outshining even the sumptuous Mansion House.
    Meagan found Bingham far less impressive. Ruddy-cheeked and stocky, his manner seemed affected to her. Lion's presence made him look even worse.
    She let her gaze slide over Priscilla to Lion and was startled to find him staring boldly back at her. Blushing hotly, she was grateful to Anne Bingham for finding just the right words to reclaim his attention.
    "Lion, you will never guess who is back from sea!" she exclaimed with an innocent enthusiasm that rang false. "Marcus Reems! If I didn't know better, I would swear he was following you..."
    Lion's entire body tensed, the muscles showing in his shoulders and neck. Priscilla, oblivious to his reaction, had no use for names unknown to her and promptly changed the subject.
    Her eyes on Lion, Meagan failed to notice when someone stopped next to her. A throat was cleared discreetly. Startled, she turned around, bumping right into the tiny woman who was about to tap her on the shoulder.
    "Oh my! I beg your pardon! I didn't know—"
    "That's all right, dear. No damage done." The other woman was quite young, thirty perhaps, and no taller than Meagan. She wore a neat gray cotton dress and a lace mobcap over her powdered curls. Her hazel eyes were as warm and friendly as her smile, set off by the roundest, rosiest cheeks Meagan had ever seen. "My name is Smith. I'm the housekeeper here. I want to welcome you to Mansion House."
    "Thank you, Smith. Will you call me Meagan? I'm afraid the names Smith and South might get a bit confusing!"
    Smith laughed softly. "Perhaps they would at that. Let me take you to your room now. The servants' quarters are right this way."
    Servants' quarters! Meagan thought. What have I gotten myself into?

 
     
     
    Chapter 8

     
    William Bingham observed Lion over his glass of port, wondering at the tired, distracted look he wore. Finally, he cleared his throat and remarked, "I paid a visit to Dr. Franklin last week."
    "How does he fare? Better than a month has passed since I last saw him."
    "His spirits are good, but physically he is unchanged. We discussed the next meeting of that newest political society of his and the progress of the Philosophical Hall. He told me frankly that he doubts he will ever attend a meeting there once it is