[Welcome back to the Bexley Manor! Did you enter via the chamber with the secret chapter? If not, if was just before this one. Just follow and refresh your library to get the key. If you still can't find it then use this link: https://www.wattpad.com/246495104-persuasion-in-the-pantry-maid-for-more-1-secret ]
Liara collected her hooded robes around her, luxuriating in the soft folds of the deceptively simple black cloth that concealed a liner of deep red satin. Veronique was right, there was a great deal of beauty in simplicity. She hopped down from the simple hired hack that masked her presence to the Rinehart home and now carried her home. She had asked to be let out a few blocks from the Crimson Guild so that she could walk the last mile in the cool comforting air of Mayfair. The night was too beautiful to waste and she marvelled at the stars that hung like a canopy around her concealed form. She loved to wander through the uncluttered streets of the wealthy and gaze into their alcove windows imagining the splendours of the lives that they lived. But, tonight was unlike any other, it had been her first liaison for the Crimson Guild and she bore it well. Imbued with success she felt something wild yawn within her veins. She tilted her head back throwing off her hood and let the coyote in her blood howl with freedom at the moon.
If she could see the vision she made with upturned brilliant red lips breathing in the moonlight under starry skies, her heart would have smiled with something her eyes had yet to recognize. She was not in the first flush of youth and possessed ample curves which were not currently popular among the ton who idolised the more waifish virgin in their beds. And, as a result of years with slimmer friends and a brusquer demeanour, she relegated her appeal to that of a potato sack, or that dishrag her mentor had mentioned. She often wondered of late whether Veronique had lost a bet to the Duchess.
Liara was blind to her own blossoming wiles, but Marco was most certainly not. He had exited his rented apartment on the opposite side of Beresford Square and watched the woman in the shadows step into the shaft of light like a panther prowling through the jungle of Central London.
His eyes tapered to slits before he strode across the square with all the purpose of a man charging into battle. This time she would not escape him.
"Lady Lariana." He announced cutting through the soft night air with the tenacity of an axe.
She turned to face him with wide eyes and vibrant ruby rouged mouth parted on the edge of a gasp. If he hadn't seen her in the Bexley Manor he could have confused her for a doxy. And yet, she held herself with more refinement than those women, but still not enough for a ballroom. She was an odd combination of something in between, like moonshine and mountain dew.
Shit
Liara's heart kicked up its beat like Marco's headstrong stallion. Her breath came in fast, shallow bursts beneath the tightened corset and her lips tingled with the memory of his touch.
"My Lord." She curtsied low, concealing the inner scarlet lining of her robes.
"You know who I am?" He stopped short in surprise.
Liara mentally hit herself. She had forgotten that she wasn't supposed to know that the Captain was also a Conde of Spain, although she wasn't entirely certain what that meant. At best guess she assumed it made him like a knight. Perhaps she should have called him Sir?
She rose unsteadily and met his eyes with feigned nonchalance. "Word gets around, Captain."
The light crossed his face as he stepped even closer pushing her further into the shadows. "And so do you."
"What?!" Liara held her breath, a difficult task to manage when encased in a material held rigid by bone.
His impressive size hovered over her, inescapable and demanding. "I saw you at the Covent Garden Theatre the night before last. I watched you on stage performing La Fille du regiment. It was impressive."
Liara took a small step backwards before answering. "No doubt, that would have been impressive however, I am not an actress. Moreover, I was not at the Opera that night." Her Mistress had made it clear that her role in the Guild was to remain a secret for the moment and so Liara painted lies, one over the other like Mina's unfinished canvas.
Marco took a step forward to meet her in the unusual tango. "And, where were you?"
"Somewhere else." Liara slid her foot back once more and her back hit the hard brick wall. Her palm flicked up to keep him at bay, but his firm chest was just as unyielding.
"Care to elaborate?" he pressed.
"No." She answered flatly but couldn't resist adding, "I'm surprised that you noticed anything at the Opera with the personal ministrations of a certain actress named Jasmeen to keep you entertained."
"You were there!" He reached for her again with surer hands.
"Oh, please." Liara ridiculed. "You had a harlot on your lap in full view of the ton. You must know that word would have circulated by now. I didn't have to be present to know about the disgusting display that went on."
Marco bared his teeth in the wide grin of a shark, "Jealous?"
"No, I can honestly say that I have never wanted to bed Jasmeen." Liara replied archly hoping that she hid well the small sting of betrayal she had felt watching them together.
"Are you being deliberately difficult?" The whites of his eyes flashed in the darkness.
Liara's nostrils flared in annoyance and she was glad that the dim light concealed her impression of a mare. "Does it bother you, my Lord? Should all your women by soft and submissive?"
"If memory serves me, you were quite submissive in the stables. Biddable, in fact."
Liara frowned, wishing she had paid better attention to Verushka's vocabulary lessons. "Beddable?"
Marco smiled down at her, "Yes, that too."
The Captain could smell a lie from twenty paces and coiled between the delicate scents of jasmine and sandalwood was the aroma of mystery.
"Tell me Lady Liara, what is a beautiful young girl such as yourself, doing roaming the streets on your own?"
Liara couldn't think straight with him crowding her. His muscled chest pushed ever so slightly at her fingertips and his warmth radiated through her cloak to caress her skin. She tossed her head to the side in a valiant attempt to take in a deep cooling gulp of air but the tantalising tang of Spanish wine and leather teased at her nostrils.
"Well what can I tell you, Sir? I am just on my way home now. I only thought to take a stroll in the moonlight on such a fine night. Is that a crime, Captain?" She raised a brow.
"No," he responded with husky disapproval placing a hand on either side of her, trapping her against the wall.
Liara squinted at him questioningly. "Then, why do you persist in pestering me?"
"Because," he began slowly with measured anger, "I-don't-believe-you."
She ground her teeth so loudly that anyone would think that her mouth was a grain mill. "And that is my problem, how?"
"Twice now I have found you wandering alone through the night. Such careless behaviour should be your problem." Marco's temper rose in response to hers. This woman had the power to really get under his skin, scraping and slicing all the way there.
Liara pushed hard against his shoulder which barely acknowledged the shove. "How about you let me worry about my problems!" She blew a stray clump of hair away from her face with the corner of her mouth before continuing to raise her voice above a lady's gentle hum of a whisper. "You are neither my brother, nor my father so I shall proceed as I see fit."
She ducked under his arm, ready to pick up her skirts and make an all-out run for the protection of the Guild. Her mind had already mapped the route with a thief's desperation at escape but her body was far behind.
Marco grabbed her wrist, closing his long fingers around flesh and bone with crushing accuracy and drew her back into his arms. She looked weary of his attention but frustration flashed in the depths of her dark eyes. He cared not for either as he had glimpsed the band of gold on her third finger. The offending item of jewellery reflected in the betraying gleam of the moon and he raised the hand he grasped to her eyes.
"Perhaps a brother and a father are not your concerns. But shouldn't your husband care about the whereabouts of his wife." His question lay as deadly and fragile as a frozen lake and the fear in her eyes almost satisfied his cold heart as she attempted to tread across the surface.
"I...I.... don't know what you mean." Liara's mind went blank and she wished she had removed her costume for Judge Rinehart. She had played the part of his wife right down to the ring and it had all gone so well. She seemed to know all the right things to say to Charles in the confines of his home with death on the line, but on the streets when discovery was imminent she had never felt less the coy and calculating courtesan.
The Captain pushed her away from him as if she was soiled linen. "I think you know exactly what I mean." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and glanced about as if searching for answers in the shadowed corners. "When I first met you, you were the maiden, then you appear the actress, and now you are married?! Which one is it?"
Liara steadied the trembling in her hands and stepped toward him slowly. "I don't know what to tell you, Captain."
Blue eyes flashed up at her with a sharpness that stabbed. "Tell me the truth."
Liara paused, then took another step forwards. "I ...can't."
It was the Conde's time to retreat further into the shadows but she followed him with her maddening wildflower scent and wedding ring.
"It isn't what you think, Captain," she persisted. "It's... complicated."
"It is actually very simple. Do you love the man whose ring you wear?" He asked with a voice roughened by unfamiliar emotion.
Liara smiled at a question she could honestly answer. "No."
"Then why are you married to such a man? Why are you running around with other men under the cover of night" he questioned.
"Why do you care, my lord?" she countered.
Marco threw his back against the wall with frustration. "I don't know. I wish I did so I could be rid of you."
A power in Liara that she did not yet own seized control and she walked forward into the darkness and into the Captain's resisting arms. "I do not wish you to be rid of me."
Marco gripped her forearms, holding her lush and rounded body at bay. "Devil-woman," he spat. "First the maiden, then the actress, the wife, and now the Siren. You best pick which one you truly are."
Liara leaned in to the warm curve of his neck and whispered, "Can a woman not be all four?"
"I would not partake of such a woman." He replied firmly.
Liara reflected on her new profession that was far more than the intertwining of bodies. She had accepted a gift to align countries and queens and she would not give it up for the fleeting passion of a Spanish rogue. "That is a pity," she whispered into the cooling night.
"For the woman, perhaps." He mocked.
Liara shook her head sadly, "For you as well."
She began to withdraw from his hold, sinking back into the inky gloom when he pinioned her once again, pushing her body beneath his against the bricks.
"Explain yourself." Marco demanded angrily.
"Why should a woman be limited by marriage?! Should her profession and interests always come second to a man's desires? Why should society condemn her for sexual experience and yet celebrate her masculine counterpart for his infidelities?" Liara started to yell, with exasperation and desolation heating the fire of her fury. "And do you know what Captain?" She continued without pausing for him to answer her rage, "You're life would be less exhilarating, less joyful and less full without a woman whose mind is as appealing as her body!"
He clamped a palm over her mouth as a policeman walked by on his routine rounds. Marco leaned down and whispered in the slope of her ear, "You mistake me, Lady Liara. I support any interests a woman may have in improving her mind, and as for the other- I am Spanish. A woman's body is her own prerogative and such independence is celebrated in my country."
His hold on her then became firmer, more aggressive and possessive than ever before and his voice rolled over her like the growl of a lion at the doorway of his den. "However, I would never tolerate adultery in the marriage bed. I would offer my body and my heart to my wife one day and I expect nothing less in return. Your husband is the greatest kind of fool, and I would never have touched you had I known you belonged to another."
Marco sighed with frustration into the softened ebony strands. Even as he held her with fingers biting into flesh heavy with anger, he knew that he should release her and step away. Tension held his muscles rigid with pain held captive on the border of what was right and what was desired. He should have recoiled from her charms and her lies but everything about her drew him in. The hitch in her breath at his nearness, the perfumed flowers in her hair and the soft curvaceous swell of her hips all welcomed his body to hers.
He unsealed her mouth again and rimmed her lower lip with the brush of his thumb, finding any excuse to stay pressed to her. "Perhaps your spouse does not care though? Maybe if he doesn't care, then neither should I?"
Liara knew that it was summer in London, but suddenly the weather had grown cold and the Jack Frost in his voice nipped at her skin, sending shivers across her swathed body.
"Captain, I..." she began hopelessly
"You what?" he whispered with icy displeasure.
"I..." The words died in her throat. What could she say to placate him, to ensure the safety of her mission, to regain the fire she had felt once coursing through his veins.
"You?" Marco pressed further against her yielding flesh, revelling in the lush swell of her body beneath his.
He had breathed his question into her next intake of air, awaiting him with open mouth. The Conde's gaze never flickered from her own and icy shards glinted back at her with mocking humour.
She could not tell him the truth, but for her part in his deception she could apologise. It was usually a thing that did not come easily to her, but the words were brandished like weapons to shield the assault on her senses.
"I'm sorry."
He froze in the frigid air between them and narrowed his gaze as a rider preparing to joust.
"No," he uttered. "You will be."
He grabbed her head on either side with a warriors roughened hands, thrusting his mouth upon hers and Liara found that ice could burn just as deeply as fire.
Their tongues danced the tango that their bodies could not and Marco searched for the answers from lips that had refused to give them. What was this intoxicating spell she had cast over him? How was he to rid himself of the ache he felt?
He pushed her further into the darkness, bringing with him all the peril of the shadows. The unrelenting pressure stole her breath and she gasped with a dangerous blend of pleasure and pain. Liara gripped his shoulders with equal fury sinking her nails deep beneath the leather and fabric to sting hardened flesh. She was no longer just a maid with an idle dream and he was not the tame explorer from the stables. They were fire boiling ice.
The fine strands of her locks fell between his splayed fingers and he grabbed a fistful of hair while ensnaring her ample waist with the other hand. Liara's arms encircled his neck and she undulated against him with the motions of the sea by which he came to England.
Marco bit at the corners of her mouth, tasting for sweet success but even as she blossomed beneath his skilled touch he felt that she had somehow locked a corner of herself away from him. She was a changed woman since they last met, stronger if that was possible; surer of herself, and it made him only want her more.
Liara's brain, which had taken a short break, momentarily reappeared and she knew that this had to end. No honour or glory lay waiting for her in this man's bed. If the Guild had taught her anything thus far, it was that she was more than just a mistress. This man was not like the others, he screamed of sleepless night, broken hearts and shattered dreams. When he was near, her body betrayed her and her thoughts narrowed to the touch of his caress. Such power should belong to no man, and so she whispered the only word that could halt the onslaught of his battle hardened body bearing down on hers.
"Husband..." she gasped as if in the heights of ecstasy.
Marco ripped his lips from her and threw her back so sharply that she stumbled, reaching for the stone wall to steady her.
His breath came in heaving gasps and he stared resolutely away from her own recovering form.
"Husband? Ha!" His hollow laugh echoed through the evening chill. "That man cannot know what you are."
Liara drew herself upright and glared in his direction. "And, what am I?!"
Marco huffed at the question he had been battling with himself. "To know what you are would take a lifetime." It was left to her to detect compliment from criticism.
He turned to face her with darkness pressing in from all sides and she stared at him across the space with still no words to offer. The gulf seemed too wide a distance to cross and too perilous a journey to make.
Liara had to acknowledge that when she had asked the question, she did not yet know the answer herself and that was a thought more terrifying than the temptation he presented. She pressed quaking fingers to her lips. She had kissed two men that night and neither knew who she truly was. Like them, she was a stranger to herself in many ways and the Captain's eyes reflected all the uncertainty in her own. When he dropped his gaze to the cobblestone floor she fled between the alleys to the safety of the Crimson Guild, and this time he let her go.
When she gained the inner sanctum of the Guild with pulse racing, she knelt before Veronique as if a Reverend Mother sat poised on the chaise lounge and she confessed all.
"You ran away here? Why?" her Mistress asked with curious alarm.
Liara trembled as she huddled on the floor "I knew I'd be safe here."
"Liara," Veronique reprimanded gently before rising to cross to the window. "This Guild was not built to shut problems out. We are here to face problems, find them and seek them out. It is a form of healing that we offer."
The Guild Mistress leaned against the cold glass and deliberated before asking more pointedly, "Why did you run from him?"
"I was scared." The maid's answer came muffled from beneath folded arms crossed over legs pulled close to her chest.
"Scared of the Captain?" Veronique asked surprised.
"Yes. No! I don't know." Liara called out in short bursts. "I was scared of how he makes me feel. I'm scared of losing control. I'm scared of losing myself!"
"Do you love him?" her mentor queried quietly.
"I... I don't know him." Liara replied honestly.
"Perhaps you will grow to love him..." Veronique pondered out loud.
"But, I have promised myself to the Guild. I have pledged my life to our cause and I will honour your faith in me!"
Veronique smiled lovingly, returning to sit on the settee behind Liara and gently combed through her scraggly tangles with a gilded brush. "Every courtesan bears a gift to this Guild and to the world. It is up to you to determine what yours is and if you wish to share it."
She tilted Liara's tear stained face to meet her glowing emerald eyes. "You do not enter the Crimson Guild to lose yourself. You are here to find it."
It was many hours later when Liara crept into the Bexley kitchens with a face chilled from the sudden cold front. Without her heavy robes to keep her snug she had shivered in her usual maid's uniform against the bracing winds. Pushing open the thick brass handle Liara went in search of warmth, hoping that Verushka had the foresight to keep the hearth burning for her friends.
Liara screeched to a halt at the sight before her.
The Duke of Bexley lay stretched out on the pantry floor with his back to the heated oven and his maid curled into his side fast asleep.
It seemed to Liara that Verushka had most definitely kept a hearth burning, and she didn't mean the one that baked the bread.
Cain had his head resting back against the wall with a thick tome laying open over his legs. Liara edged forward to try to see what book could have sent them both to sleep. It seemed careless to leave it just laying out in the open where anyone could pass out.
"Arabian Nights..." she murmured, reading aloud.
"It is also often called 'One thousand and one nights.'" Cain remarked calmly.
"What the hell?!" Liara nearly trip backwards at the unexpected sound of his voice.
"Language, Liara." Cain corrected.
"Oh my god. I am so tired of people saying 'language Liara,' to me. You know that I intentionally swear right? It's not a slip of the tongue."
"Sshh." Cain held up his index finger to his lips and indicated at Verushka's sleeping form.
Liara regarded her friend with scepticism. Verushka was nuzzled against the Duke's chest, face down with drool slightly pooling at the corner of her mouth dangerously close to his crisp white shirt. "Isn't she just a picture of perfection?" Liara rolled her eyes.
Cain smiled down at the mop of golden hair tossed over his chest. "She is, isn't she," he agreed missing the sarcasm dripping from one maid as steadily as saliva from the other.
"What are you two doing down here?" Liara raised her eyebrows quizzing.
"I think we have formed a kind of reading library between us." The Duke whispered.
"Not to put too fine a point on it, your Grace, but don't you have an entire library to yourself just a few floors above us?"
Cain appeared momentarily bashful. "Yes, but you might agree that this one has certain advantages," he conceded, his eyes resting on Verushka.
Liara rolled her eyes again. "That's not a cliché at all, is it?"
Cain's mouth tightened into a firm line. "You are not telling me what I don't already know. But..." he hesitated looking up at the maid who no longer resembled any sign of courtesan.
Liara stepped closer, "But?"
"I can't seem to let her go and I'm not sure I want to."
Liara's sceptical heart almost melted a little before Cain continued, "I wonder if she would consent to being my mistress."
"Cain!" Liara yelled reprimanding.
Verushka murmured in her sleep and burrowed closer under the cover of the Duke's coat.
"Sshh," Cain attempted to quieten the screaming maid.
"Don't you dare 'sshh' me! How dare you think of making my friend your mistress?!" Liara continued in angry whispers. "She could get a better deal from the pig sty keeper!"
"Geoffrey?" Cain questioned, feeling a burgeoning hatred for the stable hand. "Has he courted her?"
Liara frowned uncomprehendingly, "What? No. I was speaking metaphorically, I often do."
She knelt down next to her employer with the strongest desire to strike him. "There are two main reasons that Verushka could never be your mistress. One- she deserves more than to be someone's doxy especially since she is the marrying kind." Liara ticked off her fingers as she continued. "And two- you know your mother has taken a keen interest in her and she would never, never let you deflower her own personal maid."
Liara sat back on her haunches watching the anger flit behind Cain's eyes. It appeared that he did not like to hear what he could and could not do. Well, tough, Liara thought. She wasn't about to let him tumble with one of her best friends and just walk away when he had tired of her.
Cain waged the war of many a gentleman before him who had been caught between being respectable and being the rogue. In the end, he acknowledged that Liara was just trying to help her friend. "I would treat her well. My mistresses never want for anything."
"Yes, Cain. I am sure you are a more than adequate lover-"
Cain flinched at her brash choice of words.
"-but what happens when it is time for you to marry, or you grow bored of her charms?"
He drummed his fingers against the stone floor in frustration, unable to move any other part under Verushka's weight. "I would make sure she was taken care of. She would have enough money to see out her days comfortably."
Liara huffed, "Don't be daft Cain. We are the servant class, we can make our own way in the world. You can pay her as much as you like but you can't mend a broken heart. And, we both know you were born to break hearts. It's practically in the Duke job description."
Cain sighed a little defeated. He could never give Verushka dreams of a white wedding and children but knowing that he should step away from the temptation of her bed was a much more difficult pill to swallow. "And, what about your job description? Are you not concerned that your heart will also break?"
Liara smiled with the barest traces of sadness if one was looking closely. "I am at no risk of losing it to begin with."
The Duke was trained to look closely and responded with a whisper, "Why do I feel like there is a story somewhere there?"
Liara smiled and stood up brusquely. "Perhaps there is. But it is not the time to tell it yet." She brushed the skirts of her uniform and the cotton felt much courser than the robe had beneath her palms. "For now, remember what I said. I like that you make Ver happy but guys from all over London have fallen for her before. I think it's the eyes or the cherub cheeks or something in her that calls out for a 'big, strong man' to take care of her. But, if you persist in pursuing her then her chance at a life with some good guy dwindles. Think on it."
Cain watched Liara back out of the alcove slowly and he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it. Before she was completely out of sight he called out quietly, "Which guy is going to take care of you?"
Liara smirked with one hand on her hip, "I can take care of myself." She threw him a wink and a smile before tottering back around the corner into the kitchen.
At the same fortuitous moment Mina climbed in through the kitchen window with leaves in her hair. She missed the last lip on the sill and fell over the edge hitting the slowly increasing girth of her backside on the hardwood floor. Liara pondered for the briefest of seconds whether all those constant pastries were finally catching up with her tiny friend.
Mina stood up gingerly, rubbing her aching arse when she spotted Liara. "Oh, hey Li!"
Liara's eyes were wide with surprise. It dawned on her suddenly that Verushka still hadn't confided in Mina about everything that was going on. A lot of unhealthy secrets seemed to be swirling around the Bexley kitchen drain and one of the biggest was sitting behind the hearth.
"What's wrong?" Mina asked looking curiously at her friend.
Liara realised that she hadn't answered yet and opened her mouth to do so when nothing came out. Her brain was working overtime to come up with something clever to say to distract Mina but it still didn't seem to manage anything intelligible.
"What?" Mina asked again annoyed. "Did you swallow a fly again? I told you to be careful in the stables."
Haughty derision snapped Liara back into her normal trajectory. "I do not have a fly in my mouth!"
"Ok, fine. Whatever. It happens." Mina pulled off her boots and emptied the stones and dirt from the inside of them out the open window.
"It happened once! And what about you? Remember that time you ate that carrot cake you stole from Madam Sheila and were convinced you had a piece of shredded carrot stuck in your windpipe?! And then we spent four hours waiting for that dodgy apothecary in Cheapside to check you."
"Yeah, yeah," Mina huffed. "I've heard that story before. I've lived that story. Anyway, I'm hungry. You got anything to eat? I don't suppose you can whip up some biscuits?"
"Umm..." Liara wasn't sure how Mina would react to Cain cuddling Verushka behind the bread oven. It would probably be best for Ver to tell her friend that things had progressed without props first.
"Aww, come on, come on, come on!" Mina danced excitedly at the prospect of warm butter biscuits. "I'll even make the tea!" She popped the brass kettle onto the stove. "How about I go and grab the flour?"
Mina took a step in the direction of the bread oven and Liara stepped sideways to block her.
"No, I can do that." She announced a little too hastily and quickly followed it with distraction ploy. "So, why are you stumbling in so late? Doing some work for the Bow street runners?"
Mina chewed at her lower lip, "Uh...yeah." She had skipped out on yet more chores and faced Dra'gaan in the training ring the whole day, only breaking to test her lock picking skills.
"Good, good." Liara called out distractedly as she stepped over Cain's extended legs and shuffled around to get a scoop of flour.
He appeared mildly concerned that his maid was stealing flour to make her own baked goods and was non responsive to her shoving and frantic head movements.
"Cain," Liara whispered. "You gotta get up. Get out the back door. Mina's here!"
"I know," he answered with frustrating patience. "I heard her come in. She's rather loud"
Liara pulled at his free arm. "Get up, you lazy-."
"What was that Li? I couldn't hear you." Mina popped her head around the corner toting a large mug of freshly brewed tea. "What the hell?!" Mina swore with mouth agape.
"Language, Mina." Liara uttered before she could stop herself.
Thankfully Mina ignored her friend in favour of the other one sprawled over a Duke. "Did I miss something?"
Liara fiddled with the frayed edge of her apron and averted her gaze.
Cain smiled congenially from the floor. "Hi, Mina. I was just reading to Verushka and she fell asleep."
Liara watched Cain's sadly uncomprehending innocence and wondered how he could not know about the tempest brewing inside Mina. It was one thing to meet him in the pantry last week, but quite another to be out of the loop about it now being a regular occurrence. Verushka was in for some serious yelling and Cain wasn't helping the situation.
"She fell asleep." Mina stated incredulously. "On top of you? What were you reading her, the dictionary?"
Cain smiled, "Arabian nights actually." He handed her the book while shifting Verushka in his arms.
Mina's brow furrowed deeply. "Verushka is usually a very light sleeper. Are you sure she's not dead?"
"Oh, ha ha ha." Liara laughed in an oddly staccato fashion trying to break the tension. "That's our Mina, such a kidder."
Cain didn't appear to be phased by the inquiry and continued, "She hasn't slept well for a couple nights."
Liara dropped the flour.
"Realllllyy?" Mina drawled with interest. "A couple of nights you say?"
Cain stared up at the wide eyes of both girls and realised that that had sounded very incriminating. "Well, she was in here sleeping last night too... I just saw her when I came by to return her book." He hedged with a half truth.
Mina smiled. "Oh, you mean Jane Eyre."
"Yes," Cain sighed with relief.
"I imagine that would have been quite difficult," Mina began shrewdly. "Particularly since you are no longer in possession of that book."
Cain gulped on air and his throat was dry as the Sahara. Perhaps the oven absorbed all the moisture in the alcove or he felt suspiciously like he was being grilled by a maiden's father.
"Yes..." Cain started not knowing entirely how the sentence was going to finish. Why was it that he could face any threat against the throne but struggled with three maids? "Funny that, I had not noticed it was missing until I got here and I could hardly return it then. Wait-."
He speared Mina with his gaze. "How did you know I didn't have it?"
Mina leaned against the wall casually, "Oh, you must have dropped it Your Grace. I've been meaning to return it to you."
"Were you now?" Cain kept his voice light and playful. It was clear that Mina was the mother hen of the group and that was always a force to be reckoned with regardless of caste. Perhaps with her on his side Verushka would be open to being his mistress for a little while, - the next few years at least.
"Don't worry you can keep it. I memorized it and finished reading it to Verushka last night. She liked it."
"I'll bet she did." The sarcastic innuendo slipped out of Liara's mouth before she could stop herself, clamping a hand over her own mouth.
At that inconvenient moment Verushka grumbled, then made a noise very much like a yawning cat and awoke with slow blinking eyes. "Hmmpf mmmhpl oer."
Liara and Mina looked at each other and shook their heads with mutual sufferance.
Verushka who seemed not to notice that she was lying face down on top of a Duke wiped the leaking fluid from her mouth with the back of her hand. "Hey Mina. What you doing?"
Mina tapped her foot with an expectant smile. "Oh, you know, nothing. Just chatting to Cain."
Verushka's body tensed and she looked sideways at Cain smiling patiently at her. She gave a start and threw herself to the left colliding with a sack of flour and Liara's legs.
"Hello." Liara looked down at her friend without a shred of pity and smiled. "Isn't this cosy?"
Ver's startled eyes widened to gargantuan proportions. "It's not what you think!"
"Oh don't worry the Duke told us exactly what happened." Mina drawled borrowing Liara's suggestive tone.
Cain's cocky smile added to the air of indiscretion.
Verushka flapped between the occupants of the crowded floor, pushing Cain away. "What?! No! Don't believe him. You can hardly expect him to tell the truth!"
"No?" Mina questioned with mock seriousness.
"No." Verushka affirmed.
"So you weren't simply reading together?" Liara raised a single brow.
"No!" Verushka answered without thinking. "Wait, what?"
Cain leaned forward and brushed back a stray lock of hers behind one ear. "Don't say 'what', say 'pardon' dear."
Verushka looked like she might strangle him, Liara smothered a laugh and Mina wondered why he bothered with one strand of hair when the rest of Verushka's head resembled a bird's nest.
"I think that might be our cue to leave," the latter announced. "And, don't think you're off the hook Ver. You have some explaining to do at breakfast."
Verushka redirected her frustration by scrunching up her nose angrily at Cain.
Both girls discreetly withdrew before Mina stopped Liara abruptly.
"Don't you want to grab some tea before we leave the honeymoon couple on the floor?" Mina raised her steaming mug up with encouraging eyes.
"Umm...no thanks." Liara pursed her lips in contemplation. "I think I might just have some lemon and hot water with honey."
Mina looked her friend over with a disapproving frown. "Whatever happened to you is so sad." She announced before tossing Liara a pitying look and marched out of the kitchen.
Cain waited for the door to slam shut before he turned back to his maid, pulling her back to his side. "Why do you let them get you so flustered?" he inquired gently.
Veruskha made a half-hearted attempt to pull away before settling back against the wall with him. There was no point denying they had spent the better part of the night in a similar position as she had let the soft tones of his rhythmic voice wash over her. "Because I care about them and I want them to think well of me."
"They are your friends. I'm sure they already think well of you." He countered.
Verushka stayed silent and toyed with the loose threads of her discarded bonnet.
"Verushka...?" He waited for her to respond.
"They won't think anything good if they think I'm sleeping around with a Duke!" She burst out agitated by the prospect of imperfection.
To her surprise Cain laughed. "I am certain that at least one of those friends would applaud you for it."
She frowned at his assumption and pushed herself away, standing up with muscles aching from their cramped conditions. "You don't know Li. She jokes about it but you don't know her like I know her."
Cain stood with a fluidity that should have been impossible. "I think the little I know of Liara suggests that she is not the friend whom you are concerned about."
"Mina." Ver sighed. "She has always been protective over me, they both have."
He clasped her hand within his, comforting her with the warmth of his skin. "All the best friends are. I know I would never let anyone hurt my friends or family."
Verushka looked up at him like she was fighting some internal battle. "But, you would never be protective of the Duke of Wyvernstone, would you?"
"Certainly not." Cain scoffed at the idea. "He can take care of himself."
"Ahah!" Ver triumphed. "That's what I mean. They think I can't take care of myself."
Cain wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest revelling in the angles of her body tucked into his. It should have felt strange to her too but she couldn't help but draw comfort from his strength. They had only known each other for such a short time, the barest blink in the passage of their lives and yet it was as if she had known him her whole life. Like finding a story written on the back of pages long since forgotten, he had begun seeping into her heart like ink into parchment and she could not blot him out, nor did she want to.
"You know, it isn't a flaw to want or require someone else's protection. There is nothing so very wrong about becoming someone's mistress," he murmured soothingly into her hair.
"What was that?" She pushed back firmly against his torso and retreated from the security of his embrace.
"Nothing." He pacified her quickly but his green eyes flashed with hint of superiority.
Verushka took several steps further away from the confusing warm scent of his cologne. She breathed deeply of the cool kitchen air flowing swiftly from the window left open by her friends. Verushka let the sting of cold clear her head and chill the tender compassion he had wound into her heart.
"You think I need protecting too, don't you?!" She accused him with pointed finger, choosing to ignore his indecent proposal.
"That is not what I said, Ver." Cain placated with palms held up in surrender.
"But that is what you meant, isn't it? Isn't it?!" Her voice tremored on a frantic edge.
"There is no shame in needing someone, Verushka. To me you are an exotic and rare creature, but you are also a maid who may need a man's strength and support." He offered gently.
"Do you need anyone, Your Grace?" She flung the question like a barb.
His answer was immediate and he sneered unintentionally on a masculine laugh, "Of course not."
"Well, neither do I! I will show you how strong a maid can be. Just you wait!!" She spat the words out with the fury of a hissing, injured animal and turned the brass knob slamming the door behind her so viciously that if she were of bigger stature he would have expected it to fall off its hinges.
The evening had not ended the way he had envisioned, with him alone in a reverberating doorway clutching Scheherazade's unfinished tales. Cain resolved to simply wait until Verushka's anger abated and come daylight he would readdress the vacancy of the illustrious position of his mistress.
Sooooo? what do you think? Is there hope for Liara and Marco or do you place your faith in Jay and Mina?
I promise more Verushka/Cain romance to come. I hope you are all still enjoying it and if you are please vote, vote, VOTE! Oh, and comment too... I LOVE comments.