Free True Heart by Arnette Lamb Page B

almost choked on her own selfishness. Cameron, Agnes, and MacAdoo were surely tired after the long voyage. They would want to rest. A meal must be planned. The table set. Napkins folded. Silver polished. Dozens of other things. Mrs. Parker-Jones must have instructed Merriweather to offer the hospitality of Poplar Knoll to their guests. It was up to Virginia to learn their preferences. But how?
    An old image of Lottie came to mind, and Virginia acted accordingly. “I’ll have the porter fetch your bags from the boat. Have you brought servants, Agnes?”
    â€œNo. My maid only travels with me if Edward or the children come along. I’d be grateful if someone could press my gown before we dine. Unless you do not dress for dinner?”
    Cameron stretched out his legs. “I’d fancy seeing you wield an iron, countess.”
    Agnes flipped the glove again. “We are offered this observation from a man whose wardrobe consists of a shirt, a strip of tartan cloth, and his Highland pride.”
    To Virginia’s surprise, Cameron blushed. “I told you Agnes was trouble.”
    Virginia envied their easy camaraderie. She’d been a part of that friendship once and would again, but only when she could join in comfortably as an equal. In some circumstances she might have been called to freshen the gown of a visitor. She needed help from the mistress. If she didn’t gather her wits and perform the duties of housekeeper, they’d see through her ruse. Pity would follow, and she couldn’t bear that thought.
    â€œWatch yourself, Cameron,” Agnes warned. “Virginia doesn’t remember you either. I could weave her some juicy tales.”
    â€œWeave away. I’ve nothing to hide from Virginia, and she knows better than to believe your lies.”
    But she had hordes of things to hide from him, from them all.
    She rose to tell them what she’d learned in three days on the subject of the evening meal.
    Cameron and MacAdoo shot to their feet. That little courtesy was new. Slaves and bondsmen did not rise in the presence of their female counterparts. What other niceties occurred in polite society? She couldn’t recall.
    To Agnes, she said, “We do wear our best dresses, and the cook serves at nine o’clock this time of year.”
    â€œMust you go?” Agnes asked. “You haven’t told us a thing about yourself.”
    Once they were safely away from Poplar Knoll, Virginia would be free of those who could expose her. She thought of a truth and cloaked it in humor. “If I don’t instruct the staff, you’ll be sleeping on a pallet and dining on corncob soup and Tuesday’s bread.”
    Agnes laughed. “You always were one for a good jest, Virginia. Wasn’t she, Cameron?”
    â€œThe very best.” Cameron took her wrist and, bending from the waist, kissed her hand. Years ago, the first time he’d performed that courtesy, he’d turned her hand over and spit in her palm. She’d been six and mortified. Now she was curious and moved by him in a very adult way.
    Curling her fingers around the kiss, she held it. The look in Cameron’s eyes turned absolutely joyous, and when he sent that gaze on an exploration of her, from the coil of her hair to the hem of her dress, she grew warm inside.
    He lifted his brows in some sort of approval, as if he knew how affected she’d been by his touch, and, with a knowing grin, promised more.
    Discomfited to her toes, she excused herself and went in search of Mrs. Parker-Jones. But she learned that the mistress was still behind closed doors with Captain Brown. In the pantry, Virginia helped Merriweather assemble a tray.
    â€œThank you for rescuing me. I would have left them to collect dust in the parlor.”
    â€œDon’t fret, Duchess . . . pardon me, Virginia.”
    â€œOh, Merriweather. I shouldn’t have lied to them.”
    He examined every glass and fork as