She set her bounty on the bedside table beside the orange from last night. “I may have to send you out to buy food from a street vendor,” she said to Sally. “The other servants will get suspicious if I regularly start consuming enough food for a grown man.” She glanced at the clock. “We’ll buy our guest a pasty or something after I’m done speaking with his friend.”
She accepted her bonnet, shawl, and gloves from Sally. “You need to come with me,” she said to Sally as she tied her bonnet ribbons. She turned to address Maggie, who was seated in the chair, sewing by the window. “If he wakes while I’m gone, try to get him to eat and drink.”
Maggie bobbed a curtsy, and Ashley left the house to meet Mr. Westbrook in the park, to have possibly one of the most awkward conversations in her life.
Chapter 10
Reluctant to leave the cocoon of sleep, David tried to find a more comfortable position, gave up with a gasp of pain when he bumped his arm, and opened his eyes. His body ached all over, he felt hot and cold at the same time, his right arm throbbed, and his head hurt with the type of headache that came from not eating. But at least Miss Hamlin would be nearby. He struggled to sit up.
“Oh good, you’re awake, my lord.”
David didn’t recognize the voice. He risked turning his head to look around the sunlit room. A young maid approached the bed.
“The Miss said I was to try to get you to eat or drink. May I help you with a pillow?”
Before he could respond, she arranged the pillows so that he was sitting up more comfortably. He rested his arms atop the blankets, pulled halfway up his torso. He could swear the maid licked her lips before she raised her gaze to his face.
“She said she was going to get you a meat pasty after her walk. Until then we’ve got some cheese, an orange, and other foods. I’ll fix you a tray.”
While David was still adjusting to sitting more or less upright, the maid filled a plate and set the tray across his lap. “Thank you.” He picked at the bread and cheese. He had no desire for food. He only wanted to consume enough to stop the demented carpenter hammering away in his head.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” The maid poured from a teapot warming on the hearth, added a generous splash of whiskey, and set the cup on the tray. “The Miss said willow bark tea might help you feel better.”
David choked down a few more bites and washed it down with the tea. The maid was still staring at his naked chest and shoulders. “That will be all.” He gestured for her to take away the tray.
She came right back and continued to stare at him. Self-conscious, David tugged the blankets high enough to cover his chest. “What?”
“I just…” She bowed her head and twined her fingers together. “I can’t thank you enough for your kindness yesterday.”
Yesterday?
“I thought for sure Big Bob was going to kill me. Then you shouted at him, and he stopped beating on me and started beating on you instead.” Her voice cracked on the last few words. “I could scarce believe that a rich toff like you would stand up for a whore like me.”
Ah, now he recognized her, but only by her words. This tidy young woman in a modest maid’s uniform looked at least a decade younger than the disheveled prostitute he’d seen in the alley. “Please don’t cry. I don’t have a handkerchief to offer you.”
His lame attempt at levity had the desired effect, and she gave him a faint smile and sniffed back her tears.
“I want to show my appreciation,” she said, coming closer to the bed. “I can make you feel good.” Her voice turned low and sultry, and she pulled the scarf out from the neckline of her dress. “Make you feel real good, I can.”
“That’s not necessary. I would have done the same for any woman … anyone … I saw being attacked.”
She leaned forward, giving him a look down the front of her loose-fitting dress, and raised one hand to his chest. With the lightest of touches she began to stroke her fingertips downward, from his bare sternum to his blanket-covered belly. “You just lie there, relax, and I’ll do all the work. Make you feel fine as fivepence in no time.”
Before she could reach lower or pull back the blankets, David grabbed her wrist and lifted it away from him. “While I appreciate the offer,” he cleared his throat, “that kind of thanks is entirely unnecessary.” For heaven’s sake, she looked younger than his niece Missy, who was still too young to have her come-out.
“But—” she backed away from the bed a step and bowed her head again. “Now I’ve ruined everything,” she said so quietly David barely heard her. “I’m ever so sorry, my lord.”
“Nothing is ruined.” The pounding in his head was easing, and his body felt less heavy. He was going to float away at any moment. Only his throbbing arm kept him anchored to the bed. “Tuck your scarf back in.”
“Yes, my lord.” She grabbed the scrap of lace and did as asked.
“The Miss was correct,” he said when the silence began to grow awkward, what with the young woman still standing beside the bed, staring at him as if he were a banquet and she hadn’t eaten in days. “The tea is helping.”
What did one call a prostitute dressed as a maid? Whatever she was, she leapt into action, refilling his cup with the tea and a splash of whiskey, and handed it to him with great reverence.
“Thank you… what is your name?”
“I’m Maggie now.” She dropped into a deep curtsy. “Sally is teaching me how to be a maid, and the Miss was kind enough to let me hide here. Big Bob and Little Lenny are ever so mad that you hurt Lenny’s knee.”
