Her Every Pleasure Part 4

Either way, her words caused him to lift an eyebrow.

"Yes," he answered with a sardonic half smile after a moment. "So am I, my dear, believe me. So am I."

CHAPTER.

THREE.

"A fter you," her new employer said, gesturing toward the ladder.

Sophia nodded, but before leaving the hayloft, she paused and turned away from Gabriel, discreetly lifting her skirts on one side to slide her knife back into its sheath.

He watched her intently, saying nothing. She could only wonder what was going through that head of his.

This man could have taken advantage of her in ways she did not even want to think about, but instead, believing her to be a lowly trollop, he had offered her an honest living.

Now it seemed she was to be his maid.

Lord, Alexa would never let her hear the end of this-but if this was what it took to stay out of harm's way, then so be it.

Besides, the prospect of walking a mile in the shoes of a poor chambermaid filled Sophia with a gaming spirit. This was sure to be an excellent experience in her royal education. The British diplomats only meant for her to be a figurehead when she took power on Kavros, but Sophia was utterly sincere in her desire to be a good ruler. This would be a perfect chance to understand her people better, the ordinary folk she soon would be put in place to rule.

With her weapon secured, she picked up her knapsack, threw it over her shoulder, and with a resolute lift of her chin, marched across the hayloft.

Gabriel brought the kittens' empty bowl, and they climbed down from the loft one by one.

Descending first, Sophia jumped down and then turned to watch him as he followed with smooth, powerful movements. Any woman would have been impressed with that Herculean physique, she mused, wickedly eyeing the curve of his sleek derriere.

But as he stepped off the ladder, he gave her a dry look, as though he had felt her ogling his manly person. With no comment, he merely nodded toward the wide barn door.

Sophia stifled a grin and followed him outside. Together they walked toward the rambling farmhouse now visible among the trees. It had been concealed from her last night by the limited view from the hayloft windows.

Walking up the dusty drive beside him, she noted she barely came up to his shoulder. He was bigger than most of her bodyguards, all men chosen for their impressive size.

He had referred to himself as a major, and he certainly carried himself like a military man, but she was perplexed about why he was out in the middle of nowhere like this.

She kept glancing at him curiously, but he continued staring straight ahead.

"Something on your mind?" he asked at length, his tone blunt.

"Oh-nothing."

"Something," he countered, slanting her a knowing glance edged with amus.e.m.e.nt. "What?"

"Nothing, I was just wondering...do you live here with your wife?"

He looked askance at her. "No wife."

She surveyed the fields. "Are you a farmer?"

"Not that I know of."

"Well, what are you, then?" she exclaimed.

He laughed, a white flash of his teeth breaking through the dark scruff of his beard. He shrugged off the question with charming modesty. "Just an ordinary man."

For some reason, she had difficulty believing his answer and gave him a dubious look.

"Here," he said when he noticed her shrugging her knapsack higher onto her shoulder. His fleeting touch sent a shock through her body as he slipped the strap off her shoulder to carry it for her.

"I can do that-"

"No need."

Sophia was a bit nervous about letting him take it, for at the moment, that sack contained nearly everything she needed to survive. But he slung it over his shoulder and continued striding up the long drive to the farmhouse.

She quickened her paces to keep up with him.

"I should probably warn you that Mrs. Moss can be a curmudgeon at times," he said. "She comes in the morning and usually leaves by four."

"She doesn't live in?"

"No, she goes home to her family's cottage each night at the edge of the farm, which is a blessing," he muttered. "She came with the place, along with the rest of the furniture. She'll probably insult you, but don't take it to heart. It's part of her charm."

"I won't," she replied with a smile. Born to rule, Sophia knew she'd have no trouble handling an uppity housekeeper-but then she remembered her charade as a lowly servant. Hm, it seemed she'd have to take whatever Mrs. Moss was dishing out. But no matter. In for a penny, in for a pound.

This should be interesting, she thought, quite curious and ready to delve into her experiment.

They walked on in silence, then Sophia laughed when she saw the large white horse rolling on its back in the meadow, sans dignity, four hooves flailing in the air.

"Is that your horse? He looks happy."

Gabriel nodded, laughing along with her. "He's just glad to be alive."

"So am I," Sophia said softly. More than he knew. A shadow of last night's terror pa.s.sed over her heart when she thought of how close she had come to being abducted, if not killed, but when she turned to Gabriel, he was staring strangely at her.

"What is it?" she murmured.

He shrugged and dropped his gaze. "You sound like you really mean that."

"I do."

He was silent for a moment as they walked on. "I guess you've had a few brushes with danger, in your sort of life."

"So I have," she answered in a grim murmur, though he did not know the truth.

He gave a taut nod, still avoiding her gaze. "So have I."

"Well," she ventured, summoning up a smile to chase away the invisible cloak of heaviness that seemed to come over him. It reminded her of his brooding last night in the church. "Today is a beautiful day," she pointed out, nodding toward the brilliant tree line and the azure sky.

It seemed to work. A faint smile eased the tension from his eyes as he watched his horse roll up onto all fours again. The animal stood and shook himself, bits of flowers flying from his creamy mane.

"Every day is beautiful," Gabriel said softly. "One need only open one's eyes."

He glanced at her at last, and Sophia laughed at him with harmless mirth. "What, are you some sort of rustic poet?"

"No, I would try, but I'm no good at spelling," he shot back with an idle grin. "So, what are you?" he asked at length, echoing her own question back to her, as if he could not stop himself.

She shook her head. "I'm still trying to figure that out."

"You're young," he said sagely. "It can take awhile." He opened the door for her when they reached the farmhouse, and Sophia could not help but raise an eyebrow.

This man had an extraordinary sense of chivalry if this was how he treated lowly maids.

Nodding her thanks, she walked in ahead of him, but at his show of gallantry, she found herself puzzling once more over his refusal of the "services" that he believed she been sent to render to him as a Gypsy harlot.

Really, why didn't he want her? He was such an interesting man-and yet quite immune to her appeal. She believed her feminine pride was a trifle miffed.

Yet, in a way, his failure to fawn on her was oddly refreshing. She had learned long ago to take flattery with one cynical grain of salt. People would say anything to b.u.t.ter up even exiled royalty, and while courtiers and other toadies frequently sang her praises as a "ravishing beauty," she was perfectly well aware that her Greek nose was too big and that her hair turned to a cloud of wild frizz whenever it rained-which, in England, was every other day. No, Lady Alexa with her sculpted face and smooth blond tresses was the beautiful one, but it did not signify.

The point was, Gabriel Knight did not know she was royalty and, thus, had no reason to flatter her. He was merely being honest-and he honestly found her a woman that he could resist.

You are being silly, she informed herself. Would you prefer it if he tried to paw you?

For her part, Sophia had dismissed from her household any number of footmen over the years who had been accused of groping her maids. Her whole staff knew she would not tolerate such nonsense.

Still, Gabriel's ambivalence toward her left her a bit confused. She was not used to being so easily denied.

In the kitchen, he introduced her to Mrs. Moss, who took an instant dislike to Sophia.

She was glad Gabriel had warned her in advance of the old woman's ill temper. She was unruffled by the housekeeper's first efforts to intimidate her.

He leaned in the open doorway off the kitchen, monitoring the housekeeper's terse, unfriendly interview of her, when suddenly, he started forward, staring toward the field where his horse was grazing.

Sophia saw his sharp movement and looked over. "Is everything all right?"

He continued staring out the door. "I think we've got a visitor."

"What?" She felt her stomach drop with fear, her first thought that her attackers from last night had tracked her down.

"Look." He pointed as she rushed over to see for herself.

As soon as she peeked out the door relief spiraled through her.

Their visitor was the bay gelding she had ridden here last night.

Oh, dear, she thought, masking her recognition of the animal. The horse must have wandered through the woods and found his way somehow onto Gabriel's property.

"I don't see a saddle on him," he murmured. "Nice-looking animal. He must have got free from one of the local farms. I'd better go and put a rope over him. His owner will probably be here soon, wanting him back."

"Do you, er, need any help capturing him?" Sophia asked uneasily.

The dazzling smile he flashed as he left the doorway took her off guard. "That's all right," he said in a confident murmur. "I've got a bit of experience when it comes to horses."

He strode off without further ado to capture the bay. Sophia gnawed her lip with a guilty wince as she watched him go. Then, behind her, Mrs. Moss demanded her attention and put her right to work.

Sophia hopped to it, determined to explore her temporary role as maid until her bodyguards arrived, but still, she was a bit surprised that no allowance was made for her to eat, as Gabriel had promised. She shrugged it off, however, not pressing the matter. A lowly maid would have to follow orders, and meals, no doubt, were sometimes skipped. Besides, she had no intention of complaining when she knew that many of her people lived with hunger like this every day.

Her duties started immediately, and it didn't take long to grasp that Mrs. Moss was eager to give her all of the most wretched jobs.

Scrubbing a large sink full of pots and pans from the previous night took her two hours, but at least it was less complicated than her next task. When Mrs. Moss ordered her to pluck a dead chicken for the master's supper, Sophia barely knew how to begin. It was a horrid job, and her ignorance of how to undertake it proved, frustratingly, to be a prevailing theme of the day.

It didn't take Mrs. Moss long to realize that the new maid couldn't cook-at all. So the old woman set her to the simpler task of peeling a mountain of potatoes and chopping another mountain of vegetables. Blazes, she thought, her hands aching after an hour of handling the blunt little knife, how much did this man eat?

Her stomach rumbled continuously, reminding her that she, meanwhile, still hadn't had her breakfast. Normally it was served to her on a silver tray while she lay abed, exotic fruits and hot chocolate and tea and whatever new delicacies of the day that her chef could dream up. Today, however, it was two in the afternoon before Mrs. Moss finally gave her fifteen minutes to herself.

Sophia gulped down a hunk of bread with a cup of cold coffee left over from Gabriel's breakfast, but her lesson in the life of a maid was not over yet.

Her next a.s.signment involved going through all of the rooms and tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the candlewicks and refilling the lanterns' oil. She had barely finished when Mrs. Moss hurried her outside to bring in more firewood.

With her thoughts still churning over the attack of last night and her private certainty that Ali Pasha was behind it, she looked around for Gabriel. She did not see him anywhere, but was startled to note that the autumn sun was already setting.

Good Lord, she had been working practically since sunup and there was still no end in sight. She took a moment to stretch her neck a little. Her back was sore from bending over that sink for so long.

In the next moment, she heard the housekeeper bellowing for her to hurry. She quickly bent and piled a few split logs into her arms, then sighed with exhaustion and forced herself to go back in.

The chicken and vegetables were now boiling away in a cauldron on the hearth and the lovely smell made her stomach grumble even more. Thanks to her help, Mrs. Moss now had the chaotic kitchen under control, but the old woman was not nearly done with her yet.

She put a feather duster in Sophia's hand and warned her that tomorrow was laundry day; she could change the master's bedding as soon as she had finished dusting the upstairs.

"And don't forget the hallways!"

At least the new task gave her the means to escape the old woman's unceasing bad mood. She withdrew with a mumbled "Yes, ma'am" and made her way up the creaky staircase. But as the daylight waned, the house was getting dark. How was she supposed to see what she was doing?

One thing was certain, she mused as she started with the console table in the corridor, lifting up each knickknack wearily and dusting under it, she had a whole new respect for all maids. With that, she sneezed at the cloud of dust she had stirred up.

There were several rooms on the upper floor, but most of them looked like no one had set foot in them in years, so she made only a halfhearted effort to clean them. Now and then, she glanced out of the various windows, keeping watch for friend or foe, either her bodyguards coming to find her again or any sign of the villains who had attacked her entourage last night. Neither appeared.

With daylight waning fast, she realized she had better find Gabriel's room and get on with the job of tidying it as best she could and changing his bedding. Laundry day tomorrow. Lord. That sounded fun.

She found the linens in the cedar chest just where Mrs. Moss had said they'd be, and took out a clean set of sheets for Gabriel's bed. First she had to locate his room.