him, sending sparks through her. Sparks? She almost recoiled. She wanted none of that. She was not attracted to him. At all. Nor would she be. In fact, those sparks revolted her.
Except…they didn’t.
He was a traitor, she reminded herself. He excelled at making people believe one thing when another was happening. Nothing else about him mattered.
She clutched the basket handle tightly and kept silent as she followed him out.
He didn’t go through the front doors. He didn’t even go back upstairs to the main part of the house. Instead, he went past Mrs. Baton’s office, past the hall that went to the staff quarters and straight ahead down the main passage. It ended with stairs on both sides. He went left and up, then out through a much more utilitarian set of doors.
They opened onto a large stone courtyard. A long, paved drive led out from it. She’d walked part of that drive when she’d first arrived. She hadn’t realized it went past the front doors and then around the side of the house to where they were now. She inhaled the fresh air, taking in the earthy scents of the encompassing woods.
The courtyard was a large rectangle, although the edges had been rounded to maintain the curve of the driveway that fed into it. The surrounding forest came as close as possible to the buildings that flanked the three sides. First was the main house, the back structure had a four-door garage, and across from the main house was a small cottage.
But the garage was what caught her eye. One of the doors was up, and a car had been pulled out.
She knew nothing about cars, but this one was beautiful. Sleek and curvy and the color of fresh butter. The car had no top, and the inside was all white leather. A man in Gallow House livery was wiping the outside with a cloth.
Robin waved at him, and he waved back, smiling.
“You have cars?” She regretted the question as soon as she spoke it. The very sentence violated part of what Mrs. Baton had told her this morning. A servant was never to address their lord. They were only to speak when spoken to and then with as brief an answer as possible.
His eyes narrowed, and he looked at her in amusement. “Yes. Does that surprise you? I even know how to drive. Not that I go far.”
The last comment didn’t seem to be directed at her. She nodded anyway. She couldn’t be more brief than that.
He was still looking at her. “Why do you ask?”
Well, that wasn’t a question she could answer without speaking. “I don’t know. You’re walking to the mines. I guess I thought there was a reason for that. Like you had to.”
“No. I just like the air. I drive sometimes when I go out. Which isn’t often. And like I said, not very far. And not for long.” He sighed as they crossed the courtyard, and it seemed to her that there was a lot he wasn’t telling her. Not that he owed her an explanation for anything he did. “People tend to stare a lot when you’re royalty. Even in a town like this.”
That sounded more like an excuse or a justification than a genuine reason. Who wouldn’t stare at a car like that? But she just nodded, keeping her thoughts and words to herself.
He pointed to the little cottage as they went by. “That’s where Henry lives. The man I waved to who was wiping down the Packard. He’s my chauffeur, but his services aren’t required all that much. Once in a while. Mostly, he takes care of the cars.”
“Why don’t you—” She closed her mouth abruptly. Once again, she’d forgotten herself. She was only to speak when spoken to. A hard thing for anyone to remember, she imagined. Eventually, it would become habit.
He smiled. “Why don’t I what?”
They started down a path through the woods. It was worn enough that the dirt showed through and a few weeds had popped up. The weeds were as black and twisted as the trees.
She shifted the basket to the other hand. It wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t light either.
He glanced back like it mattered if someone was watching, then reached over and took the basket. His hard hat was tucked under his arm. “Here. Let me.”
“I can manage.” Panic sluiced through her. Did he think her so weak that she couldn’t carry biscuits? She’d never survive this job if he believed that. “Really,