A Winter Wish (The Read Family Saga #1) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,35
in the greatest display of emotion Merry ever remembered from the woman, but when the countess spoke, there was only her usual regal calm. “The reason I asked you to oversee the holiday decorations was so that Lord Grimslee would be… occupied.” Merry stiffened. “And nothing more. I didn’t want a friendship, because let us be honest with one another.” She casually stirred a spoon in her tea. “Lords and servants? There isn’t room for any relationships.” She paused and glanced up. “Not one that is proper, anyway.”
She knows. Balling her hands into fists, Merry kept her eyes directed forward. All the while, her stomach churned and twisted.
“Of course I know,” the other woman said, as if speaking on the weather, in command of Merry’s thoughts as easily as she was the moment. She paused that distracted stirring and pinged the residual drops on the spoon against the side of the teacup. “Imagine my surprise when I came to the nursery to speak with you regarding the final preparations.”
Oh, God.
Merry’s eyes slid briefly closed, and she concentrated on breathing.
“My son was frolicking in the snow, Miss Read. Frolicking.”
The reasons Luke had been aloof were clearer than they had ever been. What a sad existence it must have been, having a mother so horrified by his happiness.
The countess set her spoon on the edge of her plate. “And various forms of frolicking, at that.”
Mortification brought Merry’s toes curling tightly into the soles of her boots.
She’d seen them.
“I expect most employers wouldn’t care either way. A young lord dallying with a servant isn’t at all uncommon.” The countess spoke through tightly compressed lips. “But my family does not need salacious stories. And Lord Grimslee does not require distractions from his future responsibilities. Not that I need speak to you about my reasons why or…”
While the countess went on, outrage sparked in Merry’s belly, then fanned and grew until fury roiled in her chest. How dare this woman? She’d speak of Merry as though she were less than a person? It was not at all different from how Merry had viewed herself. What had changed, however, was her. Because of Luke. Luke, who’d allowed her to see she was as entitled to her dreams and happiness and hopes as any person born to the peerage.
“As such,” the countess was saying, “I’m left to determine just what to do now.” With you.
Those two words didn’t even need to be voiced.
If the countess expected she’d be cowed, the woman was to be greatly disappointed. Merry was not the same woman who’d arrived to oversee the holiday preparations. “With the meticulous care and thought you put into everything,” Merry said, “I trust you’ve already arrived at an answer.”
Surprise lit the older woman’s eyes. “Very well.” The countess reclined slightly on her sofa. “I’ll cease with the games or dancing about the matter.” So that was how Lady Maldavers would refer to Merry’s relationship with Luke. “Having you here was a terrible idea on my part, for now obvious reasons. I’m not, however, dismissing you.”
It was Merry’s turn to try to mask her shock.
The countess arranged her skirts about her. “I’m not going to hold your family’s employment or security over your decision.”
She stiffened.
Stretching out perfectly manicured fingers, the countess slid the ivory packet across the table, moving it closer to Merry. “I am, however, suggesting it might be best for everyone if you chose to leave…”
Merry glanced down at the table.
“Go on,” Luke’s mother urged, picking up her teacup. Delicately sipping from that fine piece of porcelain, she stared at Merry over the rim.
Merry picked up the heavy packet and turned it over in her hands. All the while, her skin prickled with the burn of the other woman’s eyes on her. Unfolding the article, she skimmed the contents.
And froze. “What is this?” she asked quietly, even as she knew, because of the words in front of her, just what Luke’s mother offered… and intended.
“You went abroad working in households throughout Europe, Miss Read. I am merely presenting you with the opportunity to visit, not as a servant, but as a woman traveling as she would, with no requirements placed upon you. But you are leaving. Today.”
Restless, Merry came out of her seat, and with the packet in hand, she wandered away from Luke’s mother, needing space with which to think. With which to respond.
Merry stopped at the window and continued to study the gift at her fingertips.
I am merely presenting you with the opportunity to