Free Justine Elyot by Secretsand Lords Page B

bound to want to enjoy herself.’
    ‘Deverell don’t see it that way. He thinks girls should be like his aunts were, sitting around all day flapping handkerchiefs and smelling violet drops. Playing something on the piano if they felt very daring.’
    ‘Gosh, thank heavens for the twentieth century,’ said Edie with feeling. ‘I hope Lady Mary will benefit from it eventually.’
    ‘Over his dead body,’ said Ted contemplatively. ‘Those are my thoughts on the matter. That’s a shocking job you’ve done on that stocking. Give it here.’
    Edie watched his big hands and long fingers at work with the needle and thread, wondering why, if a man found this kind of thing easy, she did not. Everything ended up tangled and hopeless when she put her hand to it.
    ‘There.’ He handed it back, beaming. ‘We’re still on for tomorrow, aren’t we?’
    ‘Tomorrow? Oh! Yes. I’m free from midday, I think.’
    ‘We’ll walk up to Kingsreach together then. Wish I could drive you but I can’t use the car for my own business. As long as the rain keeps off, it’s a nice walk.’
    ‘I know. I walked here from the station.’
    ‘Oh, yes, so you did.’ He shook his head, regarding her inquisitively. ‘You’re a curiosity, you are.’
    ‘No, I’m not.’ She blushed and bowed her head, always afraid that her face might give some crucial secret away.
    ‘I’ll work you out,’ he said, reminding her alarmingly of Sir Charles the night before. She didn’t want anybody trying to gauge her motives, let alone two men. Two attractive men.
    ‘I’m not some mystery story, you know.’
    ‘Aren’t you? I’m not so sure. Anyway, best go and tinker with me engine. Sweet dreams – dream about tomorrow.’
    He ruffled her hair and disappeared, off to the garage.
    Edie, tired and bored without the company of the other maids, took herself off to bed early. Tonight she could sleep. Lord Deverell was at home, so there was no need to fear for any more assaults on his wife’s virtue by his son.
    There was no need to visit Charles.
    No need – at least, no practical need.
    But her body itched to get out of bed and put on her gown and find him. All she could think of was what he might be doing, what he might be thinking, there in his room with the paisley silk hangings and the aromas of Turkish tobacco and Russian leather and spicy cologne all twisting together and ravishing the air.
    There, in his room, his dark hair on the pillow, his eyes on the ceiling, or a book, or looking out of the window or … thinking of her. Did he think of her?
    Or was she no longer of interest, now she had delivered an ultimatum? Was that game over and done with?
    She thought she couldn’t bear it if so. She squeezed her eyes tight shut and thought of home. Within minutes she was deep in sleep.
    * * *
    On Wednesdays, she didn’t have to clean the morning room. She was permitted the ineffable luxury of a lie-in and she had only light duties to perform until her half-holiday officially began at midday.
    She saw the clock hand jerk to the twelve and she made a run for the back stairs, ready to change into her own clothes and meet with Ted.
    Too full of the joys of limited freedom to remember to be cautious, she turned a corner and ran straight into Sir Charles. She had presumed him to be out shooting with the rest and he was wearing shooting attire – tweeds and a peaked cap and all the rest of it – but he had no gun and looked grimly purposeful.
    She froze and took a step back but he was too quick for her.
    ‘Got you,’ he exclaimed, seizing her by the wrists. ‘Well, well, well. You’ve been avoiding me, Miss Prior.’
    ‘I haven’t.’
    ‘I waited for you in the morning room.’
    ‘It’s my day off. I didn’t have to clean it.’
    ‘Your day off? Wednesdays, eh?’
    He relaxed his grip and took her in, from frilly cap to sensible work boots.
    ‘Is this your idea of mufti?’
    ‘I was on my way to get changed. You aren’t with the