looked down at his lips, rounded and perfect, and saw the sheen of sweat marked the top.
“What’s a flit like you wandering around for? Has Porter decided to loosen the leash already?”
Through the experiences of my life, I’d learned to be slow to offense. I was the last one to be stricken by insult—until now. I’d been called a myriad of hellacious names in my short life, but a leashed beast was not one I’d ever been called by my worst enemy.
Without another word to the horrid male, I turned around and set off on a path toward the house. I chastised myself the entire way back for not waiting for Porter to accompany me. Only seconds in the presence of that man and a thousand worms crawled across my skin; at the same time I felt like a harlot. Though I didn’t care for his directness, there was something so forward about the way he stated his intentions. There were no secrets or masks of gentlemanly virtue.
The plain intrigue he’d stirred made me look back to the barn more than once only to find Rebel, hands on hips, staring after me.
The knowledge that he was looking at me with such ardent fervor made me quicken my steps. Before I knew it, I was back inside the safety of my new home with furniture and food beyond my means. Even the cypress flooring I stood upon was better than my station.
“Delilah, that wasn’t much of a walk. Oh, dear, you look flushed. Is everything okay?”
I took a breath, purposefully removing my shawl at a snail’s pace to collect myself. My mind told me I’d overreacted to Rebel’s presence. It couldn’t be helped. There was an air of knowing about him that slithered over my skin—and intrigued me more than I was willing to admit.
“Yes. I took a turn that led me around by the barn. Then, I was lost for a moment. The stable boy pointed me back home.”
What a fragile lie. Not only was the lie a complete shamble, but it made me sound like a pathetic twit—getting lost when this house was big enough to be seen for at least a half a mile.
“Hmmmm, next time, Porter will be around. Maybe it’s best if he accompanies you from now on.”
While she spoke, she seemed to be scanning my face and neck for evidence of something. With that boy’s voice, the one that crawled along my skin like molasses, she was probably checking for hickeys.
My sister had returned home one night with hickeys when she was supposed to have been going to tutoring.
My mother had congratulated her.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“But,” she threaded her arm through my elbow and pulled me along, “I bet it was enough to rustle up your hunger.” There was no real question, but I nodded in response, anyway. This woman’s insatiable appetite seemed to be the revolving theme of the day—everyday. “We usually have breakfast in the kitchen. It’s easier for clean-up and Porter only ever has coffee. Anyway, June likes the way the sunlight comes in through the bay window. If we keep the help happy, we don’t have to worry about spittle in our soup.”
She laughed as I suppressed a gag. I made a mental note not to ever eat soup again unless I’d watched it be prepared.
“June, look who I found!” Eliza may as well have danced through the kitchen as though finding me was a prize. She talked to June as an old friend.
If my mother had talked to me with half the heart that Eliza spoke to June, my heart would’ve never longed for anything more.
“I’m so glad you could join us. We need fresh gossip at this table,” June said. Her words rose and fell like humming. June was a plump woman, but not like Eliza. She was solid and thick—there were muscles in her arms that would rival any mans. She must’ve worked very hard for the family.
I took her passive suggestion into account.
I felt like this was a test. If I participated in the gossip, I would look like a sinner—gossip was always admonished from the pulpit. But if I didn’t participate, I’d never fit in with these two women who were
“What’s a flit like you wandering around for? Has Porter decided to loosen the leash already?”
Through the experiences of my life, I’d learned to be slow to offense. I was the last one to be stricken by insult—until now. I’d been called a myriad of hellacious names in my short life, but a leashed beast was not one I’d ever been called by my worst enemy.
Without another word to the horrid male, I turned around and set off on a path toward the house. I chastised myself the entire way back for not waiting for Porter to accompany me. Only seconds in the presence of that man and a thousand worms crawled across my skin; at the same time I felt like a harlot. Though I didn’t care for his directness, there was something so forward about the way he stated his intentions. There were no secrets or masks of gentlemanly virtue.
The plain intrigue he’d stirred made me look back to the barn more than once only to find Rebel, hands on hips, staring after me.
The knowledge that he was looking at me with such ardent fervor made me quicken my steps. Before I knew it, I was back inside the safety of my new home with furniture and food beyond my means. Even the cypress flooring I stood upon was better than my station.
“Delilah, that wasn’t much of a walk. Oh, dear, you look flushed. Is everything okay?”
I took a breath, purposefully removing my shawl at a snail’s pace to collect myself. My mind told me I’d overreacted to Rebel’s presence. It couldn’t be helped. There was an air of knowing about him that slithered over my skin—and intrigued me more than I was willing to admit.
“Yes. I took a turn that led me around by the barn. Then, I was lost for a moment. The stable boy pointed me back home.”
What a fragile lie. Not only was the lie a complete shamble, but it made me sound like a pathetic twit—getting lost when this house was big enough to be seen for at least a half a mile.
“Hmmmm, next time, Porter will be around. Maybe it’s best if he accompanies you from now on.”
While she spoke, she seemed to be scanning my face and neck for evidence of something. With that boy’s voice, the one that crawled along my skin like molasses, she was probably checking for hickeys.
My sister had returned home one night with hickeys when she was supposed to have been going to tutoring.
My mother had congratulated her.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“But,” she threaded her arm through my elbow and pulled me along, “I bet it was enough to rustle up your hunger.” There was no real question, but I nodded in response, anyway. This woman’s insatiable appetite seemed to be the revolving theme of the day—everyday. “We usually have breakfast in the kitchen. It’s easier for clean-up and Porter only ever has coffee. Anyway, June likes the way the sunlight comes in through the bay window. If we keep the help happy, we don’t have to worry about spittle in our soup.”
She laughed as I suppressed a gag. I made a mental note not to ever eat soup again unless I’d watched it be prepared.
“June, look who I found!” Eliza may as well have danced through the kitchen as though finding me was a prize. She talked to June as an old friend.
If my mother had talked to me with half the heart that Eliza spoke to June, my heart would’ve never longed for anything more.
“I’m so glad you could join us. We need fresh gossip at this table,” June said. Her words rose and fell like humming. June was a plump woman, but not like Eliza. She was solid and thick—there were muscles in her arms that would rival any mans. She must’ve worked very hard for the family.
I took her passive suggestion into account.
I felt like this was a test. If I participated in the gossip, I would look like a sinner—gossip was always admonished from the pulpit. But if I didn’t participate, I’d never fit in with these two women who were
Similar Books
