Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story (17 page)

His grandmother responded, “
And I'm supposed to believe this Daniel David Robertson has a ridiculous Irish accent, just like my looby grandson?!”
As soon as she finished squawking at him, his grandmother popped her head out of the kitchen. When she saw Robert, she shook her head at him. “If you like my shawl that much, Robert, you don't have to make up stories just so you can snuggle it.”

“
Actually, it's quite itchy, Gram.” Robert whipped the shawl from his shoulders, approached his grandmother, and wrapped it around her fragile body. “You can keep it.”

When Gram caught Cynthia's gaze, both women smiled. Robert's grandmother had a kindly face, a gentle disposition, and bright blue eyes. Her hair, once raven back, was a dull, wiry gray. There were several hairs on her chin, deep wrinkles shriveling her face, and her jowls sagged. When she smiled, Cynthia saw she was missing several of her teeth.

“
Gram, were you cooking?!” Robert grabbed one of his grandmother's rheumatic hands and gave it a stroke; her crooked fingers jutted in every direction. “You're terrible!
I'm
supposed to do the cooking around here!”

“
Well, sometimes I don't feel like waiting!” his grandmother exclaimed. She had a cane in her hand, which she used to swat his shin. Ignoring her grandson's wince, she waddled to a chair and collapsed into it. Then her gaze went back to Cynthia. “When are you going to introduce the young lady?!”

“
This is Cynthia.”

“
Cynthia,” his grandmother repeated. “It's lovely to meet you, Cynthia.”

“
Likewise.” Cynthia bobbed a curtsy.

“
Although, you haven't actually met me, have you? Because my foolish grandson has yet to introduce me!” Robert's grandmother jabbed her cane in his direction: a playful threat. “Do you expect her to refer to me as
Robert's grandmother
or
that old lady
throughout our entire acquaintance, or are you going to tell her my name?!”

“
Is something wrong with your tongue, Gram? I think you're perfectly capable of telling her your name!” Robert cheekily replied. “Besides, I think
that old lady
has quite a nice ring to it...”

Gram leaned forward in her chair and, once again, swatted his shin with her cane. “What am I going to do with you, boy?! You're hopeless!” The old woman turned back to Cynthia and heaved a sigh. “My name is Ada, dear.”

“
Ada. That's a lovely name.”

“
I didn't raise him, so don't blame me for his foolishness,” Ada said, chuckling. “He can be quite a handful.”

“
He can be that,” Cynthia agreed.

“
Please tell me... you and my grandson aren't planning to get married?!”

When she heard Ada's suggestion, Cynthia's eyes swelled. “M-Marry him?! No, of course not!”

“
Good. Because you're much too beautiful for him!” In the corner of her eye, Ada saw her grandson wrinkle his nose at her. “You have beautiful hair, Cynthia, if you don't mind me saying so. My hair is coarse and dry, like something that's been baked in the desert sun. But it wasn't always like this, you know. Oh, what I wouldn't give to have my beauty back! Well... that's not to say I was ever beautiful. I certainly wasn't beautiful like you, dear. You should enjoy your life and beauty while you have it, because believe me, it will be gone before you know it!”

“
You're absolutely teeming with optimism today, Gram!” Robert teased her.

“
When you're as old as me, optimism is hard to come by!” Ada said. “Now, Cynthia... be honest with me, dear. Are you and Robert romantically involved?”

“
No,” Cynthia reiterated. “It's really nothing like that.”

“
Please, Gram, don't nag our guest!” Robert exclaimed. “You asked the same question twice!”

Gram swung her cane at him, but he was out of range. “I
did not
ask the same question! Getting married and getting romantically involved are two
very
different things! I am not so old and naive as to believe they go hand-in-hand!”

“
Well, there's no reason to speculate about Cynthia and me... she would never have me. She's in love with someone else.” Robert's gaze flickered to Cynthia, but only for a moment.

“
Is she
?!” Ada folded her hands in her lap and leaned toward Cynthia, her blue eyes filled with interest and mischief. “Tell me about it!”

“
There's nothing to speak of, really,” Cynthia said. “The man Robert is referring to... he would never have me.”

“
Oh? And why not?”

Robert slipped into the kitchen; as he left, he motioned for Cynthia to follow him. Grateful for the reprieve, Cynthia said, “Excuse me, Ada, I think Robert needs me in the kitchen.”

“
Oh, I'm sure he does!” Ada laughed. “That boy is incapable of doing anything by himself! If he messes up my bread, you have my permission to clobber him in the head with my rolling pin!”

Cynthia flashed a tense smile at Ada, then she joined Robert in the kitchen. As soon as they were alone, Robert seized her arm, pulled her close, and leaned toward her. For a few strange seconds, Cynthia swore he was going to kiss her. That wasn't the case.

“
I don't understand,” he whispered.

Cynthia's eyelids fluttered when she felt his breath on her cheek. “What? What do you not understand?”

“
Lord Charmington!” Robert exclaimed. “Why don't you think he would have you? You're an earl's daughter, not a maid. Why not confess your identity?!”

“
I... don't know. I've considered it, but... I am... afraid.”

“
Afraid of what, exactly?”

Cynthia expelled a sorrowful breath. “I'm afraid of my stepmother's wrath. If she finds out, I
know
she would turn me out of the house. What would I do then?!”

“
Marry Lord Magnificent. Problem solved!” Robert released her arm and went to chop Ada's onion.

“
Why do you think he would marry me?”

“
Because he's smitten with you? It's obvious, isn't it?” As he minced the onion, Robert shook his head with disbelief. “I don't know why you would continue to be a maid when you have a perfectly viable solution to your problem.”

“
Why is it your concern, Robert? Do you want to be rid of me that badly?!”

Robert laid a hand on his hip and glowered at her for several seconds. “Really?! Of course not. I'm just trying to help you, that's all.” He went back to chopping the onion, but not before expelling a tremendous sigh.

“
Very well, Robert... let's say I confess my identity to Lord Charmington,” Cynthia said. “Why should I expect him to marry me? He hardly knows me! My fate would be sealed.”

“
It would be worth the risk, wouldn't it?”

“
What if I don't marry him? Where would I go? What would I do? How would I--”

“
ROBERT!”

When he heard his grandmother screaming at him from the next room, Robert flinched. With a pitiful frown on his lips, he reported, “Well... duty calls. Why don't you work on the bread while I'm gone?”

“
But I--” Robert was out of the room before she had a chance to tell him she did not remember how to make bread. Even if she had a recipe, which she didn't, Cynthia would not know where to begin. She thought about chopping some onions—which was a skill she had recently acquired—but Robert had already chopped the onion so finely, it was hardly necessary. Having no task to perform, Cynthia poked her head through the doorway and spied on Robert with his grandmother.

“
Is there anything else I can get you, Gram
?” he asked, as politely as he could.

“
That blanket over there, if you please. I'm quite cold!”

Cynthia watched him pull a blanket from the shelf and tuck it around his grandmother's legs. When he was bent over her, she gave him a gentle pat on the head.

“
Do you need me to build the fire?”
he asked.

“
No. I think I'll survive.”

“
Anything else, Gram?”

“
Well... a bit of affection would be nice.”

Cynthia caught a glimpse of Robert's smile as he bent to kiss his grandmother's cheek.

For all their bickering, his grandmother was close to his heart.

Chapter Eighteen

As the taciturn butler led him down the hallway, the question was on the tip of James' tongue. He knew he might be venturing into inappropriate territory, but he had to ask.

“
Is Cynthia here?”

“
Pardon, my lord?” the butler slurred a response.

“
Cynthia? I am sure you know of whom I am speaking. She is... the pretty, blonde maid. We crossed paths the last time I was here, and I was wondering if she was around.”

“
What, my lord?” The butler dug a finger into his ear.

“
CYNTHIA!” James repeated for the third time.

“
Oh. Right. Cynthia.” When Soloman nodded, Lord Charmington breathed a sigh of relief. His relief was short-lived, however, because the butler failed to answer his question. He opened the door to a sitting room and announced, “Lord Charmington is here to see you, madam.”

Edith was alone in the sitting room when the butler addressed her. She laid her needlepoint aside and straightened her back. “Show him in, of course.”

When James stepped into the room, he swept his beaver hat from his head and bowed to Edith. “Good afternoon, Lady Edith.”

“
Good afternoon, my lord,” Edith said. “I am afraid you find me quite alone. My mother and Georgiana are in town, shopping for hats.”

“
Then perhaps I should not stay? It might be improper for us to be alone for so long.”

And they were
truly
alone—the butler had silently disappeared through the doorway.

“
If you are concerned about impropriety, you shouldn't be. As I have no intention to marry, I see no reason why we should fret about my reputation.” Edith motioned toward the chaise lounge across from her. “Please, sit.”

When James sat down, he laid his hat and walking stick beside him. They were quiet for several seconds, staring at each other in awkward silence. Edith tried to smile at him, but her tremulous smile was somewhat disingenuous.

“
Was there something in particular you wished to discuss? Or were you here to call on Georgiana?” Edith asked. With a twinkle in her eye, she added, “Or Cynthia, perhaps?”

At the mention of Cynthia's name, James' eyes fluttered, as if he had been punched in the gut. “I should apologize for my fascination with your pretty maid. When I was painting her, I did not mean to get caught. I would not want her to suffer any repercussions because I decided to make her my muse.”

“
Of course not, my lord.” For the next several seconds, Edith stared out the window. She wanted so desperately to tell him about Cynthia, to tell him her stepsister's true identity, to unburden herself with the knowledge of Cynthia's fate. He needed to know the cruelty Cynthia had suffered at the hands of her mother. But it was Cynthia's secret to tell—not Edith's. If her stepsister wanted Lord Charmington to know, she would have to tell him herself.

“
The weather has improved,” James said, because he had no idea what to discuss with Edith.

“
Indeed it has,” she agreed. “It's much warmer now. It's hard to believe it was snowing just a few days ago.”

“
I hope the weather holds up until next week. I'm having a ball at Ridgeley Manor.”

“
Oh?” Edith folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to continue, but he didn't say anything. He must have been waiting for her reaction. “I... that's lovely, my lord. Am I to assume we are invited?”