Finally the dinner was over and it was not as bad as Cain had imagined. He had wished that Jay had lingered long enough to meet Marco, but the two seemed destined to not be in the same room at the same time. As soon as one appeared the other dispersed, only to return much later on and pretend that no time had passed at all. Never the less, weaving that tale about an affianced bride did liven up the evening much to his mothers distress.
Cain chuckled. In the end he hadn't even required his valet to save him with a mysterious excuse. It was all fairly pleasant, if a tad tedious. In Roma the dancing and parties had carried on till the wee hours of the morning and although this one was not particularly long it was definitely not as rambunctious. Consequently Cain was a little tired, his muscles a touch sore and considering dinner ended hours prior to scotch and port, he found himself somewhat hungry.
He walked through the old halls he had played in as a child and remembered tearing through them with Nanny in tow. My, how times had changed. His solid leather soles hit the Persian rugs where a child's muddy footprints once ran, and he shook the feeling that his father was watching him from the large portraits lining the walls... watching and judging. He quickly paced through to the lower stairs, unbuttoning his cuffs as he did so. Somewhere along the evening of scotch and gambling he had lost his waist coat and now as he removed his cravat, it was sure to follow the same path. Cain's stomach grumbled- where was a servant when one needed one? No doubt they were all abed considering they were to be up again before the crack of dawn. So Cain simply navigated the pitch black hallways with pieced together memories from childhood. He supposed he could have gotten a candle and matches but then that would assume he would know where to find those implements. No, that would require calling for a servant which would nullify his mid-night trip to the kitchens, and that was unacceptable.
Although he knew most of the staff were fast asleep he did hold out some hope that his interesting little maid Verushka was still about. She was absolutely stunning. He could not understand why every man in the entire dining hall did not want to leap up and take her in their arms. Maybe they did? Maybe they had better control than he did- because dinner was remarkably uncomfortable. There she stood, no doubt doing her job- and all he could think about was undressing her....slowly. When their hands touched he felt such a spark, such a tingling beneath the skin that he wanted to do it again. Never in his long years had he fantasised about holding another females hand for God's sake- but here he was in a stupor over some maid. A maid, who he should keep in mind had no reaction to his touch whatsoever, and yet as he attempted to seduce her over some olives he did notice a shortness to her breath. He toyed with the idea that she was actually interested in him...affected by him, and yet even if she was, what was that to him? He had no intention of bedding the lass. His mother would have more of a fit if she found out that he was dallying with the household staff than if he announced another false engagement. No, clearly slipping between his maids sheets was out of the question. And while he was on a roll chastising himself- perhaps he should stop referring to the gorgeous, glowing virgin as his maid.
Cain carefully made his way down the servants stairs to the kitchens since there were none for the family's use. He even astonished himself that he remembered which creaky wooden planks to avoid, although some new creaks and groans had developed over the years. Eventually he turned the latch of the large timber door , pushed on the bronze ring handles and crept into the darkened room. Unfortunately no one was about. It was chilly, but he supposed he should have expected that- it was hardly common practice to light fires for the staff as they worked. But maybe it should be. He once knew his way around this kitchen very well, but with his mother given free rein in his absence she had found it necessary to buy every new appliance that had breached the market. When Cain finally managed to locate the ice box and pulled out some chilled milk and slices of cold meat he was beginning to look rather favourably on his mothers purchases. As silent and stealth like as he could manage- and he'd liked to think that was very stealthy, he procured a glass and some utensils. Finding that the warmest spot in the room was closer to the oven he pushed his plate to the end of the table and was about to take a seat on a rickety three pronged stool when he heard a noise to his left.
Cain stilled. If any servants were awake they most assuredly would not be in the kitchens at this hour with no candles or supervision. He took a cursory glance around- it appeared all the dishes were washed and replaced and the only food lying about was the items he had planned to eat. No, the Matron of this kitchen ran a very clean sloop. He heard the noise again. It sounded like something scratching...perhaps a rat? He removed his boots slowly, one foot at a time and placed them gently on the floor. With bare feet he padded till his left arm touched the back of the oven. He let his fingertips skim the heated brick wall until he came to the edge. He wished for a weapon, but there was nothing for it now but to turn the corner and face the assailant. He knew that coming back to England posed a threat, but he had hoped that he would not have to face this day for some time yet. Cain balled up his hands into fists and paused as a new sound filtered to his ears- was that a page turning?
He stepped around the oven front and allowed his jaw to drop an inch. There Verushka sat amidst bags of flour, munching on stale bread - her brown skirts covered in crumbs and so engrossed in a large thickly bound book that she didn't even notice him standing 4 feet away. Her eyes were glued to the text as they frantically darted from left to right then back again. She was like the human opposite of a print-press- every word was being sucked out of the pages and into her mind. She looked so warm and comfortable sitting upon folds of linen on the floor, huddled between hessian sacks soaking in the heat from the oven. He almost wanted to join her in her makeshift hovel, but thought better of it, and instead cleared his throat loudly.
"Er, ehrm."
Verushka's head shot up with a start. She looked at him with wide brown eyes and he was actually afraid they may pop right out of her head. Luckily though, they stayed where God thought best to place them , but she did not seem able to speak. The seconds ticked by and not a sound came from the maid's full lips. She just sat on the floor in mid turn of a page with eyes as wide as saucers.
"Pray tell me Miss, do you come here often?" he inquired casually leaning against the warm wall.
"Where?" she finally replied, her eyes darting around the room no doubt looking for an escape route.
Cain smirked a little, "To the kitchens... more particularly to the floor in front of the oven."
"Oh," she remarked then paused. She only missed a beat before continuing "well this is my job, I have to be here."
"At a quarter past one in the morning?" he commented sceptically
"Yes" she sounded fairly confident.
Cain walked towards her with a casual grace, "And pray tell, what exactly are you doing?"
"Umm...."
"Well, yes it sounds quite difficult then. I am terribly sorry to disturb you" he said with a humorous mocking gleam in his eyes. "Don't mind me. I'll just be around the corner having something to eat." And with that he strolled back around, put on his boots- because a nobleman was never seen without his shoes, although the first time she had seen him he didn't have any clothes on at all - so his attire now couldn't be too bad.
He slowly sipped his cool milk and was halfway through his second strip of spiced lamb, pondering moving onto the breakfast bacon he had spied earlier when he heard the maid finally turned her first page again. So, her strategy was to hide behind an oven and pretend he wasn't there. That hardly seemed fair or reasonable and Cain was never one to suffer dining alone, so he grabbed his glass, a fork full of meat and comfortably reclined right next to the maid on her stack of dirty but warm linen.
He felt her stiffen beside him and would have been amused if he hadn't caught her heady scent of musk mixed with something floral, oriental, woody and fresh. Cain found himself become rigid in response before judiciously re-adjusting his position and leaned against another flour stack.
"What are you reading?" he questioned amiably making no move to peer at her book.
"Jane Eyre"
"Is that by one of the Bronte sisters?"
"Yes" came her terse reply
"So I take it you are fond of neo-gothic romance tales."
"I don't know yet- this is the first one I have read."
He frowned at that and then it dawned on him that it was highly irregular for a maid to have a book, let alone be reading at all. He wondered where she pilfered it from.
Verushka clutched the book to her chest. "I didn't steal it," she shot out words at him defensively.
"I never said you did" he responded with a smile.
"Well, I didn't."
"Okay..." he treaded carefully, "how did you come across such a book?"
Verushka stuck her chin proudly in the air. "I borrowed it."
Cain's brow furrowed. He was still coming to terms with the fact she could read, let alone visit a library.
"One of the upstairs maids gets books and other things from her brother the coachman who gets them from the gardeners wife who exchanges produce with your mothers companion to borrow some of the things the dowager gives her."
Cain followed very little of that, but it sounded there was an underground book club ring in his own home.
"And what do you give this upstairs maid?"
Verushka looked very serious as she replied "I teach her how to read."
Now that interested Cain. "And who taught you to read?"
"I picked it up here and there." she said nonchalantly, but Cain knew that her circumstances in life could not have been easy. There was very little scope for a young maid to learn anything except to scrub, clean and do as she was told.
He gently bumped her shoulder with his and deftly stole her book from her lap and opened it to a random page.
"And who is this Mr Rochester fellow? Is he the hero?"
Verushka frowned at him like he was acting in a way she was totally unfamiliar with. "He is the main male character, but I wouldn't call him the hero."
"Ah, so is there a heroine. She must be-" he turned to make a show of reading the cover "- the illustrious Jane Eyre. Tell me do you think you are much like her?"
"It's difficult to say yet... but there are some things about her life that I understand." she had a thoughtful perplexed look to her face, as if she was just realising something she had not considered before.
Cain flipped the pages till he came to a passage he found rather startling- " Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you."
Verushka blushed.
He would have been distracted by her colour but the words of the heroin she so obviously associated herself with did not sit well with him. "It sounds a very sad novel. How can you bear to read it?"
The rosy stain slowly disappeared from her cheeks. "You must read the book. It is not about just that moment, it's about how far Jane comes in the story. And I have not yet finished it so please don't flick to the end and spoil it for me."
"I must read the book?" Cain raised an eyebrow.
He was pleased as he watched her eyes dart up to him. She had not considered her words before she spoke them. She had demanded a Duke read a book of her choosing and it was almost comical watching her struggle with whether to let her judgement stand or back peddle her way through formality.
"Yes" she simply stated
She had decided to go forth with her instinct and Cain was infinitely pleased. They were, after all, huddled together next to an oven. The time for propriety was most assuredly passed.
"Okay then." he smiled a smile he knew had made dozens of ladies feel as if the sun shone upon their face. To them he had used it as a tool, but to Verushka he felt she brought out the warmth in him. Her terseness and concealment made him want to pry open her heart and read what she held so close to her bosom. He found her looks, her indiscernible frowns and glances captivating. For no reason he could understand, the thought of spending time with her, unlocking her mind and then her body...perhaps not in that order- was incredibly appealing. He knew that he was new to London , but if his body was craving release there were plenty of mistresses who could complete the job satisfactorily, and if he was looking for a chase or a wife Lady Maria was only too willing to oblige. And yet no one above stairs knew the real Cain...perhaps here in the warmth of a bread oven he could share it with a simple girl with shrewd eyes and a gentle, pure soul.
Verushka shut her book and stared at him, "Excuse me, are you saying you want to read my book"
Why yes, that was a novel idea- 'her' book.
Cain seized the book again before standing up and offering her a hand. "Yes, I would love to borrow your book, thank you."
"But....but" she stuttered "but I was reading it."
"Oh I'm terribly sorry- forgive me. How about we share it? Although I don't know what I could have to offer you in the exchange like your friend the upstairs maid."
Against her better judgment she took his offered hand and he lifted her up with a touch more force than required. She fell squarely against his chest, her soft cheek so close to the bare patch of bronzed skin at his neck. Cain closed his arms around her, steadying her stance. She looked up at him with wide innocent eyes but he felt her pulse race at her wrist beneath his fingertips.
"Ah, I believe I've found something to exchange." he corrected, his voice husky and deep, heating the small space between them more effectively than any oven.
The heat crawled through her clothes, simmered under her skin and burnt her body. The Duke of Bexley didn't release her, he kept one arm wrapped around her waist and the other pressing her hand to his chest. Verushka shivered but she definitely wasn't cold.
He reached up and grabbed a wayward strand of hair from her left temple and wound it around his index finger, savouring the silken texture across his skin. She stopped breathing. He was close, painfully so- and all she could feel was hot, boiling like the kettle every morn. Her chest ached and she didn't know why.
"Breathe" the Duke ordered, the fan of his breath caressing her cheek.
Verushka took a giant gulp of air. The pain in her chest assuaged, and she reminded herself that air was important and she should really take some in on a regular basis.
He smiled at her, dimples and all but she couldn't smile back. Smiling was a far cry from what she was able to do. Speaking was still a foreign concept. Standing was all she could manage- that and breathing, and frankly she was thrilled with those accomplishments because when he held her and smiled in such a way, all she could see was him in that bed sheet he wore that morning. He looked at her the same way he had in the privacy of his bedchamber and she felt the flutters in her belly from first light fly all the way to the eve to remind her that she knew what lay beneath that waist coat and shirt. It was an expanse of smooth bronzed flesh that glimmered with gold dust in the sunlight. An involuntary sigh escaped her lips and he released her hair to tilt her chin up to him.
Umm... what is he doing?
She met his green eyes and she felt a door in her soul swing wide open. She didn't even know what that meant, but she had a feeling it was important. Maybe he would be able to explain it to her- but then again it was probably wiser if she didn't ask the man embracing her.
He dipped that gorgeous head lower and lower. Verushka's gaze flicked to his lips and even they were perfect, they looked soft but firm, sure, and capable. He moved closer and closer till they shared the same breath.
And then her knees buckled.
All she was aware of was standing one moment, a hairs breadth away from touching her lips to the Duke of Bexley's when all of a sudden she was headed swiftly to the floor. The Duke caught her and tossed her into his arms as if she weighed nothing more than a feather. He held her gently, tucking her small frame into his body with care and control. It should have been inappropriate but it felt oddly comforting. Her heart was still pounding away but he treated her like a Lady who had fainted, offering compassion and the steady strength that a male of his standing exuded. She realised she was staring up at him while nestled in his arms and looked away sharply.
"Verushka? Are you well?" his voice sounded concerned.
"Yes, your grace" she found her voice. It came in a whisper- anything more in the small space tender with warmth and un-kissed lips would have broken the spell they had created.
"I.... tripped." there was a pause as she fabricated her next lie. "Be careful... it's very slippery right there," and she pointed to a phantom spot on the ceramic tiles realising any liquid so near the oven would inevitably dry up. Maybe she was dehydrated? maybe she was sick? Maybe her brain had taken a long holiday over the border to Scotland?
If she were to look up at him she would have seen a small smirk grace his beautiful face, but luckily for him her eyes remained averted.
"Allow me to assist you to a chair then" he asked and carried her around the oven to the long kitchen table without waiting for an answer. She assumed as a Duke he was not used to waiting for anything, let alone the permission of a maid in his employ.; but at least he asked, she supposed.
Despite her splutterings and vehement promises she could walk, he managed to safely deposit her in a chair opposite him. She had a moment to recollect herself as he brought out an extra plate and began slicing a leg of ham and pairing it with cheese. With long, strong fingers he cut, diced and finally poured her a glass of cold water from the ivory porcelain pitcher.
"Thank you" Verushka uttered quietly and took a gulp of the cool liquid.
"So tell me a bit about yourself Verushka." he smiled before taking a bite.
Why? she thought, but realised that Duke's were strange creatures and if he had questions for her she was in no position to not answer, regardless of his motivation.
"Umm...what do you want to know?"
He grinned at her, "Everything."
How was it that a man could grin like the devil on judgement day and still ooze sexuality. Maybe that was Lucifer's trademark? If so, would Hell really be that bad? Verushka brushed away her blasphemous thoughts and continued. "I'm a maid."
"I know that. But you are more than your job surely. Tell me, what do you like to do in your spare time... I mean besides hiding behind ovens ."
Verushka frowned slightly. "I read a fair bit"
"Ah yes, how did you develop such a love of the written word?" he questioned offering her a skewered cut of meat. When she didn't take it he simply started to assemble food on a plate for her and indicate that she continue with her story.
"I ...um...you know you don't need to do that" she pointed to his ministrations.
"You need to eat, you are too skinny. And please carry on."
She frowned again thinking that she would develop a permanent crease between her brows if she spent any length of time with him.
"I guess I have always liked books. When I was very young I worked at Lord Riverstone's manor and he would often leave them lying about. As I cleaned I sometimes caught a line or two, other times I heard him read to his daughters at night and snatched little moments to look at the novels here and there."
He nodded, encouraging her to continue. His eyes so expressive and interested in her recollections that she found herself wanting to continue. "The first book I really read cover to cover was some romance novel the Marchioness asked me to throw away one day. I confess I didn't throw it. I kept it and read it over and over- not so much for the story but for the words...the way each sentence and paragraph was arranged. It was almost poetry but not quite. I was amazed the way the correctly phrased description or dialogue could transport you into a whole other world." Verushka stared passed the stony kitchen walls and remembered with perfect clarity the handsome knight in the book and the even more beautiful princess and she still recalled how it made her feel.
"Anyway," she came back to reality, "I used that book to trade with another servant and eventually was able to read a fair number. I am very lucky."
She glanced up to see him staring at her with wonder, as if she was something beautiful that had now also astonished him and captivated his mind. His gaze brushed over her again and again before she asked abruptly, "Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Because I am humbled."
"By me?"
"Yes"
"Why?" she asked bewildered.
"Because I have been given so much in my life and yet you, who have been raised in poverty can find so much joy in something so simple. It's astounding. It ... it makes me so very grateful. Can you believe I never really considered that before? How strange it is that the lives we lead consume us so much so that sometimes it is hard to see beyond our gilded cage." The Duke leaned across the worn timber table and softly grasped her hand.
"You are truly amazing Verushka. I would buy a whole library for you if you willed it, because I know you would treasure each book."
She gulped. Was he mad? Maybe the meat was off?- She looked at it suspiciously. A whole library? She would faint again. But no, common sense took hold- this was a Duke and she was starting to realise that she was nothing more than a passing fancy to him.
"I don't need a library your Grace. I would however very much appreciate my book back if you please."
He leaned back in his seat and smiled, "Uh uh, surely you wouldn't deny a humble Duke an opportunity to expand his reading horizons from the London Daily Press and Gentleman's gambling books to something more substantial, especially a romance. Perhaps I need the advice."
"Ha!" Verushka let a laugh slip out.
Cain raised an eyebrow. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Verushka looked worried and her eyes darted around.
"It is too late to be shy now, my dear. May as well come out with it."
Even Verushka knew she had gone too far for concealment- the Duke had already caught her in his bedroom, on the streets and now loitering in the kitchen, she decided that there seemed to be no time like the present to tell him what she thought of him...well maybe some of what she thought about him.
"Your Grace, you need no help securing a ladies hand. I was at dinner tonight with a dozen other females and I am sure every single one could vouch that you have a natural savoir faire with women. And yes I just spoke French- my friend Liara made me learn some. Anyway, the point of the matter is that you don't need any advice from Jane Eyre or Mr Rochester."
"Ah, but that is precisely why I do" he remarked and then popped a piece of cheese in his mouth giving it the same attentions to which he offered the olives at dinner- further proving Verushka's point.
"I think that there are some holes in your logic" She pointed out trying not to watch his perfect mouth.
"It appears that all my long years I have been using the wrong techniques in capturing a woman's heart . I strongly believe that this book may hold the key to securing a truly loving wife." He elaborated.
"But aren't you already engaged your Grace?" she hastened to point out.
The Duke pulled out a slab of bread and began to cut thick slices. He did not answer for a moment and then offering her a soft whole-wheat wedge he cocked his head and enquired, "Does that upset you?"
She frowned again, "Does what upset me? That you are getting married or that you are still planning on chasing some light skirts tail while you are engaged?"
He offered her a piece of fine aged cheese on the tip of his knife, holding it to her lips.
She shook her head and wished silently he would not linger so close. It was like the man was permanently emanating heat, and in a country so cold she couldn't help but want to stay close. It was the weather she told herself- the infernal English weather!
Cain continued to hold out the fromage and smiled with those perfect lips. "What would you say if I told you I am not engaged."
"Then I would respond that you are lying." Verushka didn't stop to check her impertinence.
"The truth is, I did lie to a lot of people in that dining hall, but I am not lying to you."
"If you admit to being a liar, it is a wonder any one knows when you are speaking the truth"
His face turned serious, his mouth stern and his eyes locked onto hers. "You can be certain Verushka that I would never lie to you. I don't know why, but I feel it would give me the greatest sense of dissatisfaction to cause you pain in anyway."
Verushka's heart skipped a beat. This was highly uncommon. She was sitting...eating, with a member of nobility- a Duke no less; not a baron or a lord, but a Duke and he was treating her with ...care, respect and something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Maybe she should ask him? She looked at his powerful frame leaning towards her....then again, maybe not. Oh, and he was trying to feed her his family's best cheese. This was so not in any realm of understanding she possessed.
"You are not engaged?" she heard herself ask breathlessly.
"No, I am not"
She felt her body relax as if taut strings had been cut and yet he seemed even more tense, still holding out the portion of cheese to her.
"Take it" he indicated, "and I will give you your book back."
She instantly obeyed and unintentionally teased the morsel off the knife with her teeth and lips, savouring its rich flavour as it crossed her tongue. She heard a groan and looked up at the Duke with questioning eyes.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" she asked ridiculously.
He shook his head and turned away, rose from his stool to make his way around the oven to retrieve the discarded book. When he got back to the table she watched him tuck the novel into the folds of his coat that he had draped over the back of the chair.
"Hey! I thought you said you would give it back." She was livid.
"I did and I will. I never mentioned when though."
"That's cheating!" Verushka exclaimed bounding off her chair .
"It is merely bending the truth just a little. Never fear, you will get the book in good time."
Unable to stop her feet, she marched around the table to face him. Her standing and him seated brought them eye to eye. Her brown irises flashed with irritation and his green, sleepy casual gaze gave all the impression of watching a rather apathetic play.
"You will give me my book back, your Grace." she seethed
"Make me." he smiled flashing a dimple.
Verushka's fingers clenched into claws , her lips pressed together in a firm line as she looked down at his coat where the book lay beyond her grasp, then back to his challenging eyes. "Argh!" she finally screamed and about faced to stalk away from the Duke of Bexley and his outrageous suggestions.
Well, that was her plan- and her plans with him never worked- much like Mina's.
She felt his warm hand encircle her wrist and the roughened texture of his voice caressed her ear, "Are you mad at me?"
She didn't look behind, she just stayed very, very still. "No."
"Then why won't you look at me?"
She imagined he knew exactly why she didn't turn to look at his perfect face. No, she didn't succumb to the soft seductive notes in his words, nor the course, unrefined base beneath every flexion and intonation.
With a sharp tug he spun her, holding her around her waist- fingers splayed and strong.
"You aren't afraid of me are you?" he prompted her silence
"No." she responded defiantly but her eyes were wide, hardly concealing her nerves.
"Then you wouldn't mind me doing this" he asked as he drew her closer to him while he sat, pulling her between his muscular thighs and wrapping his arms around her waist.
Even Verushka knew her eyes were enormous by now. She made some unintelligible sound that even she wasn't confident was a rebuff to his attentions.
"So let's work out a settlement for this book, shall we?"
He wanted to talk about a book, what book?
"I propose I take the book tonight and tomorrow evening you can have it as long as you return it to my bedchamber the next morning with breakfast."
Verushka was still trying to think through the haze of his pheromones and her own body's reaction to them.
The Duke tilted his head to one side and if possible unleashed an even more potent gaze. "My dear... are those terms acceptable?"
"What terms?" Verushka struggled.
"You aren't paying attention, dear."
"Why do you keep calling me that?"
"What?"
"Dear" she stated.
He smiled and each finger burnt through her hips. "I think the name fits. Every time something shocks you, you stand so perfectly still with wide endearing grey eyes. You remind me so much of the deer I see on the hunting grounds."
Verushka slowly regained her wit, "Are you hunting me, your Grace?" She had the audacity to ask but the question popped into her head and she needed to know the answer.
"Maybe..." he answered honestly. Even he looked shocked at his answer but he didn't let go of her.
What are you going to do if you catch me? she wanted to ask, but years with Liara allowed her to fill in those blanks.
There was tension in the pantry. Fear, promise, and lust billowed like the steam from the oven and swirled around the Duke and maid encasing them in a fog. It was warm and wet; it was like you could taste what they were feeling in the air. Liara could attest to that, because she was standing right behind them at the base of the stairs with both door and mouth wide open.
She shut the door, then opened it. They were still there. She closed it, then opened it again, closed, open-
"You know, there are more effective ways to aerate a room"
She opened the door slowly and saw the Duke of Bexley grinning at her.
"Would you like to join us?" he released her friend and indicated to the food spread over the table.
Liara raised an eyebrow. Verushka looked scared out her mind as she made her way back to her seat across from the Duke and although the cheese and bread were tempting there was no way Liara was going to miss an opportunity to find out what had happened in this kitchen before she opened those doors.
"Sure!" she flounced in, glad she had taken off her gold ball gown before seeking out her friends.
She pulled up a stool next to Verushka and bumped shoulders with her in a non discreet nudge. "Soooo....what have you two been up to?"
Verushka rolled her eyes. The Duke just handed Liara a plate of bread, cheese and sliced ham.
"We have been chatting... about books." He took a sip of milk. It seemed so unlikely, a Duke relaxing with open cuffs and no cravat, drinking milk.
"Do you read at all?"
"Oui." Liara thought there was no harm in showing off.
"Ah, yes. Verushka said that you could speak French. Où avez-vous appris le français?" he asked where she learnt the language.
" J'ai étudié derrière les poubelles dans la Cheapside" Liara shocked him with the truth of her even poorer start to life.
He smiled kindly and nodded with new appreciation. Liara was quietly pleased but she could feel Verushka seething with rage and bewilderment beside her.
Verushka was sitting there stewing in frustration. The book was just out of her reach and every time she tried to secure it he would use his horrible masculine ways to cloud the issue. Things were getting damn foggy! And he lied to everyone about getting married? Who did that? No one! Because it just wasn't right. And now Liara bounded in acting like everything was fine- like it was perfectly normal to converse with a devastating duke in the kitchens after shirking her duties so that her friend was left with all the washing up. And on top of everything she had so many questions about what on Earth was going on in that pantry, and no one was giving her any answers!
"Your Grace-," Verushka began.
"Please, call me Cain...or Scot- whichever you prefer" he stared at her friend with an intimacy that piqued Liara's curiosity.
Liara arched an eyebrow and barely hid a smirk.
"Oh my God!" Mina exclaimed from the window as she climbed in leaving a trail of soil. She moved straight to the table and grabbed a hunk of cheese. "Where did you get all this food? Nice pull ladies!"
"Umm..." Verushka was lost for words.
Liara's smile widened as she watched her friend stuff her face with cheese and move onto the meats. "Dearest...did you happen to notice our guest?"
"Our what?" Mina looked up at Cain and they waited for the penny to drop. "Oh." Her mouth dropped open displaying half masticated porcine flesh.
Cain held out a glass of water, "Drink?"
She took the proffered glass with a confused look. "Sorry...?"
He scooted his chair closer to her to laden her plate with more food. "What for? Certainly not for coming in to share a midnight sup with us."
Mina chewed her food with care not entirely sure what was happening. If she could see into Verushka's mind she would notice that their thoughts were not entirely dissimilar. In fact none of the girls had a clue as to what was happening. Although Liara was finding a great deal of amusement in Verushka's discomfort, and Mina was finding a great deal of satisfaction in the food.
"I remember I saw you both on May street with Verushka earlier today. Weren't you chatting to the Duke of Wyvernstone?" he addressed Mina.
Mina's eyes flared for a moment. "Oh...was that who he was....umm...yeah, I guess."
She saw Liara frown at her but ignored it.
"He is one of my closest friends, but a terrible Rake, and that was Rake with a capital R."
"And what exactly are you?" Verushka questioned glaringly, "Liar, with a capital L?"
Verushka couldn't understand why she was so mad about him being engaged, but she just simply was.
"VERURSHKA!" Both Mina and Liara reprimanded.
"That is no way to speak to a Duke" Liara commented trying to save all their skins. Dukes were notoriously fickle and they could all be tossed out on the streets in no time at all.
"Apologise!" Mina, clearly the eldest sister figure of the group ordered.
Cain listened to Verushka mutter something under her breath and doubted very much it was an apology. As much as he would have like to hear his maid grovel, perhaps that was best left for the bed chamber.
"No, that won't be necessary" he assured them "Verushka is free to talk to me how she wishes."
Mina and Liara looked at him incredulously, Verushka simply glared.
"Truly" he continued, "We are friends... we lend each other books" he winked at Verushka. "Now I don't believe we have been properly introduced. You are....?"
"Liara" the maid announced then curtsied awkwardly and regained her stool.
"Mina" the other maid informed him in between mouthfuls of food and drink. How she stayed so incredibly slim and pretty he would never know. She must have a bottomless pit for a stomach.
"Liara, Mina- it is a pleasure to meet you both. Have you had a pleasurable evening?"
Both maid's looked as if they had been caught with their hands inside the Cardinal's secret stash.
"Liara, I believe I saw you briefly in the dining hall. I must have missed you when you left for the stables"
"What?!" she choked
He pointed to her hair and she reached up and plucked some straw that had wound into the dark strands. "Oh... um yes... I like the horses."
Mina rolled her eyes and stabbed a fork in her friends direction. "Getting up to mischief again Liara?"
"Oh shut it Mina darling" Liara spat out. "What about you - covered in dirt again Cinder-soot"
"Grrr"
"Did Mina just growl?" Cain asked Verushka quietly.
"She often does, I wouldn't be too concerned."
Cain laughed at their interactions, watching the back and forth banter with ease. They talked around him and included him comfortably for the next half hour. They covered Verushka's passion for telling stories from the novels she read- making them seem better than the actual text. They talked about Liara's love for riding horses bareback and tormenting the farm boys while Mina could apparently be found often climbing a host of trees, with her knees and palms scraped up and her pockets full of pastry.
They had an effortlessness about them, it was weaved into the way they joked, they needled and they shared food like it was about to be stolen away any second. He had never seen a group of young women devour a meal so fast. It was refreshing- nothing like those delicate gloved ladies who only sipped punch at the edge of a ballroom.
"So basically after joking for hours that this man was staring at Verushka while we all swam at the lake, eventually this farmer comes back up the field with a set of binocular telescopes." Mina finished up her tale and the last few crumbs around the plate.
"She wouldn't believe us until that moment" Liara laughed.
"I still don't believe you. He was probably just looking out over the fields." Verushka did not look happy that this story was being recanted to the Duke.
Mina and Liara collapsed into a fit of giggles that turned into raucous laughter. It was infectious and Cain joined in with mirth.
Verushka screeched her stool back and stalked away from the table muttering unkind comments about the loyalty of friends.
Cain was before her in an instant, tilting her chin up and forcing her to look into his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Verushka..." he whispered.
"Cain" she stated as coldly as she could manage.
He seemed to take that as a victory, and she realised she had used his Christian name when she had so carefully managed to avoid it the whole night.
"I am sorry your friends and I are having so much fun at your expense. I think they are just being kind and trying to make me feel included."
"Umm... yeah that's it" Liara commented behind her.
"So, how about this, tomorrow night you can tell me something embarrassing about one of them"
"Hey!" Mina yelled like a fisherwoman.
"I will even throw in a mortifying story about me not so long ago" he added.
Verushka did not look completely convinced.
"And... we must still make the book exchange" he tempted
Verushka's head snapped up.
Cain patted the coat he wore.
"You do not play fair, your Grace"
"Your Grace again? What happened to Cain?"
When she didn't offer an answer he delicately took her by the elbow, trailed his fingertips down the length of her arm and turned her palm upwards, placing a scandalous kiss at her wrist. He felt the heat from her veins warm his lips and he smiled as he bent over her hand.
A wolf whistle sounded from the kitchen table... Liara -he suspected.
He straightened and turned to the other girls, "It has been a pleasure ladies. I look forward to breaking bread with you again. Now if you'll excuse me, I must leave. I have an early meeting tomorrow with my estate manager, a man who by all descriptions is rabid when kept waiting." With a bow to each maid and a wink thrown in for Verushka he disappeared out the large lumber door.
"BYE CAIN!!"
"See you tomorrow Scot"
The maids friendly yells echoed up the stone stairwell to his ears.
Mina and Lara began clearing away the dishes when they both turned to find Verushka standing dangerously close with murder in her eyes.
They gulped in unison.
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