she was really quite innocent of the harsh realities of his life.
“The medicine for my aunt,” he began, but a sharp rap on the door interrupted him.
Leah’s face lit with alarm.
“Behind the bureau,” he mouthed at her, motioning as he grabbed his breeches. “Quickly.”
She flew on silent feet, disappearing as a voice called out with another knock. “Russell?”
He lowered his brows as he opened the door. “Henrietta? Whatever are you doing here?”
She looked past him into the room, greedy eyes searching for something. “I was going to the kitchens for a light. Our fire had gone out.” She turned to him, a knowing smile on her face. “But I heard voices coming from somewheres over here. You wouldn’t know about that, would you, Russell?”
“You must be mistaken,” he said. “You know female maids are not allowed in this part of the house. Now please remove yourself from my chambers.”
Henrietta tried to push past him and enter his room, but he blocked her way with his body.
She delivered the killing blow with innocent aplomb. “I merely wished to greet my dear old friend Ramsey.”
His stomach sank, but he fought to keep his face neutral. “You are incorrect. Do not spread your lies further.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he shut the door in her face.
He fought the urge to slump against it. He must get Miss Ramsey away before Henrietta’s suspicions became convictions. Thomas Prachett was sure to have a spy hidden amongst the Granville House servants. With his ear pressed against the door, he sighed in relief as Henrietta’s footsteps disappeared down the hallway.
He rounded the corner of the bureau. “Leah?”
She had curled up in a tiny ball on the floor. Her hands covered her eyes, and she shook like she’d been beaten.
Heart lit with alarm, he bent low and scooped her into his arms. “What is the matter?”
She pointed with a trembling finger. “Spider.”
Guilt pummeled him straight in the chest. He bore her away as quickly as he could, depositing her on the bed.
“I am so sorry,” he whispered against her hair.
“Can you get rid of the spider first?” Her voice was thin.
Reluctantly, he rose from the bed and returned to the corner she’d been forced to hide in, swallowing her terror as he lied to Henrietta. Not only had he besmirched her name and reputation, he’d forced her to cower like a criminal as her fears overtook her. He was a bastard.
The spider was nowhere to be seen. After a thorough examination, and only a bit more regret at the deception he’d enact on her, he stomped softly on the floorboards.
“Did you get it?”
He nodded as he returned to the bedside. Though he desperately wanted to hold her again, soothe her fears and ease her worries, he knew he could not. He stood over her, looking down as her shivers eased.
This was no life for her. He was a servant, with no home or funds to support her. Every groat he wrenched from his hardscrabble life went directly to his aunt’s upkeep. How could he doom her to a life of wanting? Of domestic servitude, when clearly she was used to a life much more like that she’d enjoyed at Lady Chesterfield’s? And Prachett could not be held at bay forever. Though she hadn’t seemed disgusted at his former occupation, she would be at the dishonesty inherent in his dealings with Prachett. And once she learned that, she would then revile him as everyone else did.
He could not have her. Though the words lanced his heart with their brutality, he knew there was no alternative.
“You must leave. If you are discovered here…”
She sat upright with a cross expression. “Avery, we have to talk about that. Listen, I…”
He pressed a finger to his lips. Footsteps grew louder as they approached.
“Henrietta is returning,” he mouthed. “Be silent.” The hurt in her eyes almost did him in, but he hardened his heart and turned away. After three heavy breaths, he turned back.
She was gone, his window open.
He bolted for the casement and leaned out. She was halfway down the trellis already.
“Leah.” His whisper was rife with the anger he wished he could roar at the thoughtless chit. “What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving. Isn’t it obvious?” She let out a small cry as her foot missed its hold, and he fought the urge to leap out after her. The trellis could not hold their combined weight, he was certain.
“Do not be so rash,” he said, gripping the hair atop his head in frustrated fear. “I never meant for you to —”
“I know that, you doofus.” She jumped the last few feet to the earth, stumbling as she righted herself. The roar in his ears quieted somewhat as she glared up at him.
“I don’t want to cause you any problems, but we have to talk. Soon.”
She turned and walked toward the street, her dark cloak quickly hiding her from his worried, watchful gaze.
“The little idiot,” he snarled as he threw his shirt and boots on, throwing open his door and bolting down the stairs after her. “To think she walked alone in the streets and climbed the damned trellis three stories up. I’ve a mind to throttle her.”
But as he threw open the kitchen door and sprinted after her, he knew that while there were many, many things he’d like to do to her, throttling her was not one of them.
Thoughtless, beautiful fool.
Leah kept looking over her shoulder all the way back to Lady Chesterfield’s house. She had the odd feeling that someone was following her. But even though she kept watch, she could never see anyone.
It was probably Avery, wishing he could kick her ass for sneaking into his bedroom and nearly getting him caught with his pants down.
It was pure pleasure to kick off her boots and flop into bed with a sigh. She stared at the ceiling, wondering what tonight had meant for Avery. Had it clarified the feelings in his heart the way it had for hers?
She rolled over onto her belly, bunching the pillow beneath her chin. When she was younger, she’d liked nothing better than getting lost in a book, a movie, a video game. When her life was more interesting, like when things with Kevin were heating up, she left her escapist life behind and enjoyed living in reality. But when things had fallen apart, she’d run to those comfortable old friends immediately, drowning herself in the distraction.
Avery was confusing but exciting. Would he get tired of her too? Would he want to come back to the twenty-first century with her? If not, she’d be back to burying herself in her apartment with nothing but Mario and Mr. Darcy for company.
Her dreams swirled with the worries she couldn’t leave behind even in unconsciousness.
Avery awoke with a sense of foreboding.
With a steadying breath, he rose to his feet and crossed the room. A small square of paper lay innocently by the crack at the bottom of the door. The plain, rough paper crinkled under his hands as he unfolded it. In the moon’s predawn glow, he read it.
Avery gripped the note so tightly that the paper ripped.
