Princess Charming by Beth Pattillo Read Free Book Online Page A

least snatch off her mobcap and pull her hair.
    “You naughty boy, where have you been?” The beauty stepped back and gave his arm a playful swat. “Shame upon you, Nicky.”
    “Hello, Henny.” The gardener smiled without the least embarrassment at the maid’s forwardness. “I’m afraid I’ve been occupied elsewhere of late.”
    Lucy rolled her eyes and snorted, but the maid only laughed. “I’m sure you’ve been a busy boy.” Her eyes traveled suggestively over his smock and breeches, and Lucy blushed on his behalf, or maybe her own. The maid’s mouth formed a petulant little pout. “Dressed in that costume, you are irresistible.”
    “As are you,” he said, indicating her attire, and he smiled in return, a lazy, indolent smile. A smile that Lucy had not yet seen, and made her knees go decidedly weak, even though it was not intended for her. Lucy decided perhaps she would hit him instead.
    “Ahem.” She cleared her throat. It was time to remind the two moonlings that another party was present, not to mention an impressionable dog. “This reunion is quite touching, I’m sure, but wasn’t the idea to escape notice?” Lucy was proud that her voice held all of the asperity and none of the jealousy she felt.
    The maid turned, as if noticing her for the first time. “Oh, hello. Are you the new girl?”
    The exasperating gardener gave a shout of laughter. “No, Henny. Never the new girl. Listen, we must get out of sight.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Surely Madame St. Cloud could allow us the use of her drawing room for a bit?”
    “But Nicky, have you forgotten? It’s Tuesday. The drawing room is always used on Tuesdays.” Her suggestive laughter grated on Lucy’s nerves. What could be scandalous about a Frenchwoman using her drawing room on a Tuesday?
    “Then someplace else,” the gardener said. “It doesn’t matter where.”
    The maid turned her attention to Lucy, her eyes traveling up and down, taking note of Lucy’s wet, faded dress and disheveled appearance. Henny’s eyes lit with a low flame of spite, but Lucy refused to cower.
    “Well, there is one room that’s not in use.” The maid smiled at Nicky, looking like a cat promised a dish of cream, and a knot of unease tied itself in Lucy’s chest.
    “Now, Henny,” the gardener protested.
    “It’s that or nothing, I’m afraid.”
    The gardener slanted Lucy a sidelong look, and Lucy met his gaze with defiance. Whatever the problem, clearly the pair believed Lucy was not up to the challenge. “Are we to stand here until night falls?” They would never see her flinch, just as she had never allowed her stepmother to force her into showing fear. “Or shall we lurk about as if we were foxes waiting to take tea with the hunt?”
    Henny smiled with satisfaction, and the gardener sighed. “Very well, then. Lead on, Henny.” He turned to Lucy. “Just remember that you agreed to this.”
    The maid stepped back, the gardener took Lucy’s arm, Wellington heaved his bulk up the last step, and much to Lucy’s apprehension, the four of them entered the house.
    Although the faint sound of voices could be heard from behind closed doors, Lucy breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the foyer was deserted. Perhaps this unremarkable home was as good a place as any to hide until she could sort through her difficulties and arrive at a plan. She was not depending on his help but merely being practical.
    The maid led them up the main staircase, and Wellington moaned dramatically as he heaved himself upward, until Lucy bent down and scooped his wet little body into her arms. They followed the maid down a corridor, and when they reached the end, Henny stopped at a mahogany door. She turned the knob, and the gardener gestured for Lucy to enter the room first. She caught the glance he shot the maid, and the hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck snapped to attention. After a slight hesitation, though, she complied and stepped through the doorway.
    Lucy