Innocence (8 page)

Lisa hunched her shoulders, disliking the way he kept staring at her chest.
 

“How much further to the library?” she asked.

“Why? Eager to get me alone so ye can ’ave yer wicked way with me?”
 

He waggled his eyebrows in an odd manner, and she slowed to a stop.

“Whatever do you mean?”
 

“Oh, come on! A gorgeous creature like ye out in the world on yer own? Don’t tell me yer innocent. Most serving lasses ’ave been tumbled and rolled umpteen times by the time they’re yer age.”

Owen’s words reminded Lisa of the lewd comments she had heard on the journey from Henbury, and she took a step back. She should have insisted Helen enlighten her as to their full meaning or asked Sally to explain when Ruth wasn’t around to be distressed by the topic. All Lisa knew was a lady’s reputation could be irreversibly damaged if she were to engage in lascivious behaviour, but what exactly that entailed was still a mystery.

Well, maybe not a complete mystery.
 

Her cheeks warmed as she recalled the unsettling way she had felt when Nathaniel stood close to her in the hallway, as if butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach.
 

“Here we are, Miss Lisa.” Owen made a sweeping bow, gesturing for her to precede him through the door into the library.

Keeping her distance, Lisa walked inside before stumbling to a halt. Leather-bound books housed in dark mahogany shelving stretched along the walls of the vast room, three stories high, with sliding ladders to access the upper shelves. Comfortable chairs were grouped around the room, offering enough seating for at least twenty people. Velvet curtains and rich, patterned carpeting created a surprisingly cosy feel to a room of palatial proportions.

“Heavens above,” she whispered.

“It’s something, ain’t it?” Owen scanned the room before closing the door behind them. “Not that I’m overly interested in books meself. I don’t ’ave much time for readin’ and the like. More a man of action, that’s me.”

His words barely registered, unable to compete with Lisa’s absorption in the wonders around her. That changed when he grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her back against the nearest row of shelving.

“Owen, no!”
 

“Ah, come on. A luscious redhead like yerself? Ye know ye want it.”

Gripping her chin, he attempted to force a kiss, while one of his thighs pushed between her legs. Her strength no match for the footman, Lisa struggled to free herself, panic rising in her chest.
 

“No!” she cried again, feeling utterly helpless, but then the advice John had given her before she had departed Worthy surfaced in her mind.

“I’m sure ye’ll be perfectly safe working in the Duke’s home,” he had said. “But if ye should be subjected to an unwelcome advance, there are actions ye can take to, er . . .
discourage
a man.”

Lisa had thought the possibility unlikely but had stored his odd instructions away nonetheless. Letting herself go limp, she sagged against Owen’s body. When he stepped back to see if she’d fainted, Lisa brought her knee up between his legs as hard as she could, following with an elbow to his stomach.

The elbow was probably unnecessary.

The impertinent footman collapsed in a heap, cupping his private area with his hands and howling like a hound that had captured the scent of a fox. To Lisa’s acute embarrassment, John had assured her this was an extremely vulnerable location on a man, but she hadn’t expected him to respond quite so dramatically to her blow. When a couple of minutes passed, and Owen continued to writhe and moan, she began to worry she had done him irreparable harm. Seeking help, she raced from the room and straight into the arms of Mr Henson.

“Who’s making that dreadful ruckus?” The butler caught Lisa by the elbow and directed her back into the library.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” He reached down to haul Owen up by the collar of his shirt. “That’ll teach ye to leave the lasses alone. Ye’ll be lucky to avoid a horse-whipping when His Grace hears about this. Ye know his views about harassing unwilling girls.”

Owen groaned a garbled protest as he stumbled from the room, a shove in the middle of his back from the butler sending him on his way.

“Are you all right, lass?” Mr Henson asked, turning to face her.

“Yes, sir. I don’t know why he thought he could . . .” Lisa gripped her hands to stop them from shaking.

“Don’t fret. I was a bit worried you’d be trouble, but you’ve done naught to provoke the men. You can’t help your looks or the delusions that fill a feckless young man’s head. Mind you, seems like you can handle yourself well enough.” He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “Do you need some time to collect yourself, or will you be right to continue?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you, sir.”

“Very well then, but do let me know if any of the others give you trouble. We pride ourselves at Worthington Hall on providing a safe environment for the staff. His Grace wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With a final nod, Mr Henson left the library, leaving Lisa to collect the discarded cleaning utensils with hands that shook.
 

Her work was almost finished when she heard a noise.

“Owen, is that you?”
 

The footman had seemed cowed after she had struck him with her knee, but Lisa doubted she would get the opportunity to best him the same way twice.

“If that’s you, Owen, you’d better stay away from me, or I’ll give you some more punishment.” The tremor in her voice undermined her forceful tone, so she raised her voice. “I mean it! I don’t want you touching me or kissing me. Just leave me alone.”

Catching a movement to her right, Lisa turned to see Nathaniel stepping forward from a shadowed doorway.

“Oh, it’s you.” He didn’t return her smile, and lowering her head, she quickly dropped a curtsy.

“I’m sorry, my lord. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Peering up through her lashes she saw him stalking towards her, her stomach lurching as she wondered if he had discovered her link with his friend, Lord Copeland. As he came closer, she saw he was limping slightly, the more likely cause of his annoyance. He must regret putting himself at risk over a mere servant.

Twice in the same morning, Lisa found herself backed up against the bookshelves, as Nathaniel crowded her against the wall. He reached a hand towards her, and she flinched.

“You think I would strike you?”
 

“No.” Lisa shook her head, looking up at him warily. “It’s just you’re so angry with me.”
 

“Why would I be angry with you?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.
 

“Because of your leg. If you hadn’t come to my rescue you would not have been injured.”

“I told you it was nothing, the injury well worth the price of your safety.”

Lisa forced herself to keep still as he reached for a strand of hair that had come loose during her tussle with Owen. After tucking it back into the bun at her nape, he trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, her skin tingling at his touch.

“The ‘Owen’ you were threatening, is he the footman who’s been shadowing you?”
 

She nodded.
 

“It’s not hard to guess his transgression, but I’m curious. How exactly did you
punish
him?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Lisa?” he prompted, and she started out of her reverie. He really was quite wonderful to look at.
 

“Um, well, you see, I remembered something a friend of mine told me about protecting myself from an unwanted advance, and I raised my knee up and hit him in . . .” Unable to put the events into words, she demonstrated, and Nathaniel winced, stepping back. Mortified by what she had done, Lisa covered her face with her hands.

“So, you
do
have hidden talents. I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
 

Peeking at him from between her fingers, she was relieved to see the humour in his expression. “I’m so sorry, my lord. I didn’t mean to . . .”

“No need for apology.” He took hold of her hands, rubbing his thumbs softly over her knuckles. “I’m glad you were able to defend yourself, though it should
not
have been necessary.” His tone hardened. “You won’t have to worry about the footman bothering you again. He’ll be gone by nightfall.”

Already in poor form with Sally, Lisa was concerned Nathaniel taking such an action would be to her detriment.
 

“Please don’t dismiss Owen on my account,” she asked. “It was just a misunderstanding, as he thought I was someone I’m not. I mean, I
am
a serving girl, of course, but not like the ones he’s used to. I’m unaccustomed to the way things are done, as I’ve only recently come into service.”
 

Nathaniel’s grip on her hands tightened. “You’re defending him? Why? Did you invite his attentions and then change your mind?”

“No! I didn’t want him to touch me, but he wouldn’t listen.”
 

Tears flooded Lisa’s eyes, and Nathaniel’s expression softened.

“It’s all right, I believe you.” He smiled and led her to a nearby grouping of chairs. “Come, sit, and tell me why you’re new to service. Where is your family?”
 

“My father managed
the inn where I worked,
but when he died, I was forced to leave,” she said, adding the details she had thought of to hopefully improve the plausibility of her tale. “During the war, he served under your father, and spoke very highly of His Grace. He said if anything happened, I should come to Worthington Hall and seek employment.”

Nathaniel studied her intently, one elegantly-clad leg crossed over the other.
 

“Did your father say
why
you should make the journey from . . . where exactly did you say?”

Lisa struggled to recall if she had given Mrs Donaldson a specific location. She dare not say she was from Henbury or any of the surrounding locales, so she picked the town she had stayed in with her father when they went on a trip to the seaside the summer after her mother died.
 

“Mayverton. I came from Mayverton
.
”
 

“That’s quite a journey. You undertook it alone?”

“Some friends accompanied me on their way to visit relatives further north.”

Nathaniel nodded thoughtfully. “There’s no way you would have made it this far otherwise.”

“No, indeed,” she muttered.

“I’m curious about your accent,” he continued, his expression reminding Lisa of her tabby cat when he was stalking a mouse. “It doesn’t fit the locale you mentioned or any other that I know of.”
 

“My mother was French,” she said then winced, unsure if Lord Copeland would know that about her. “She was from a good
family and insisted I receive an education.”
 

“Your mother.” Nathaniel remained silent for a moment. “She wouldn’t have fled Paris around the time of the
Terror
by any chance?”

The room spun, and Lisa clutched the arms of her chair. He must know she was the young woman Lord Copeland was searching for and was merely toying with her.

“It’s all rights, Lisa. You’ve nothing to fear.” Nathaniel knelt beside her chair and steadied her with a hand to her shoulder. Smiling gently, he traced the line of her jaw before trailing his fingers down the length of her arm. “Although it certainly explains a few things. Your delicate bone structure and soft, flawless skin for one.”

He stroked the back of her hand, and Lisa shivered.

“Did your mother tell you much of her heritage?”
 

“She didn’t like to speak of it,” Lisa said truthfully. The
Terror
had come when her mother was barely in her teens. She had lost her parents and most of her relatives to the guillotine and been forced to flee with only a few faithful family retainers to protect her.

“Understandable.” Nathaniel’s expression sobered. “And your father, the solider? Good English working-class stock, I suppose. He must have been an exceptional man to capture her attention.”

Lisa nodded, relieved. While Nathaniel had come close to the truth, he had fortunately interpreted the information she’d given him through the filter of the role she was playing.

“And so here we have the lovely Lisa. A sweet little commoner with the grace and beauty of a budding debutante. What an enticing contradiction you present.”

After drawing in a ragged breath, she licked her suddenly dry lips. With his gaze focused on her mouth, he leaned in so close they were almost touching.
Almost kissing
.

“Bloody hell.”
 

Pushing himself to his feet, Nathaniel strode a few paces before halting.

“I don’t know if you have any idea how much I want you.” He huffed a feeble laugh before turning to face her. “But my giving in to temptation would rather defeat the purpose of you having travelled all this way to find safety. Keeping my distance is the only option.”

Lisa rose slowly from the chair.