When I'm with You
Palm fronds rustled in the darkness, and she winced as sand blew in to sting her face and neck.
    Cupping his hand about the dancing flame, Mr. Jamison said, “Come inside now. Be sure to tell Mrs. Bates you’ve lost another apron.”
    Heat crept into her cheeks. Mrs. Bates would not be pleased to hear that. Katie seemed to have a special talent for ruining aprons. The last one had suffered a large burn from a too-close encounter with a drawing room candle. Fortunately, it had been the only casualty, as she’d managed to put it out before her entire dress went up in flames. Before that, she had got a little too close to Lucy, Mrs. North’s helper, and had ended up with a kitchen knife pinning her apron to the table. She didn’t relish telling Mrs. Bates she needed yet another apron. “I will, Mr. Jamison.”
    He held open the door for her, and she ducked by, bidding him a good evening as she hurried back toward the servants’ staircase. She didn’t know why, but it seemed he watched her with more intensity than he did any of the other maids, and she thought she felt his gaze on her back, between her shoulder blades, as she left the kitchen. She paused in the corridor between the kitchen and Mrs. North’s chambers, and a damp chill wrapped around her like a musty shroud. She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder.
    The candlelight was dimmer, a floorboard creaked, and Mr. Jamison began humming once more. No. He wasn’t watching her this time. It was her imagination playing tricks on her. He couldn’t possibly know the truth about what she’d been in Jamaica. He’d lived in England with the Hamiltons before coming to Bermuda. As far as she knew, he had never even heard of Kingston.
    No one knew what she had done there, or how she had forged her references to give her the chance at being in service in a house like Marchand Hall.
    When she returned to her room, she found Martha readying herself for bed. Like Lady Sally, she wore a dreamy expression.
    Katie smiled as she closed the door. She knew the reason for that look. “I see you managed to find time to sneak off with Robert.”
    Martha was all smiles as she flopped down on her narrow bed in a cloud of staid linen. “For a few minutes. In the pantry. We had to be quick because Mr. Jamison was lurking about. Neither of us wanted to be caught by him, of all people. I think I’d die from the embarrassment.”
    â€œIs he going to ask you to marry him or not?” Katie reached up to undo the small cloth-covered buttons at the top of her dress. No matter how hard she tried, there was always one button she couldn’t reach. “Help me?”
    â€œOf course.” Martha rose, and a slight chill bit into Katie as the row of buttons opened and the night air touched her skin. “And yes, Miss Nosy,” Martha added with a laugh, “he is going to ask me. As a matter of fact, he did so right there in the pantry.”
    Katie spun about to find Martha beaming at her, and she caught her by the hands. “Did he? And you said yes, didn’t you?”
    â€œI said yes.”
    â€œOh, how wonderful!” Without thinking, she threw her arms about Martha. “I’m so happy for you.”
    â€œRobert already spoke to his Lordship, who offered to help us find a cottage in the village, so we can both keep our positions here.” Martha stepped back and her smile faded. “Although it will mean that you and I won’t be sharing a room any longer.”
    â€œYou aren’t going to worry about that now, are you? And it isn’t as if we won’t still be working together every day.” Although she was genuinely happy for Martha, Katie still felt an uncomfortable, albeit familiar, pang. Jealousy. Everyone around her was marrying, and there she was, the lone hand clapping. Or trying to clap, anyway.
    At the same time, she couldn’t begrudge Martha her happiness, any

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