Through the Smoke

Something about the earl’s voice made her look up, into his eyes. What did he want from her? What had brought him here? Why couldn’t someone else have interfered, like the brawny putter who had offered to help her catch up? “Choose what?” she repeated dully.

“Me… or them.”

Rachel watched the men shuffle past, Wythe and his enforcing pistol at their backs. They would tear her limb from limb, if they could. She couldn’t help noticing their cutting glares and bunched muscles.

But Druridge was more dangerous still, because he made her heart twist and yearn for something that could never be.

“I will leave,” she said. “Go somewhere far away. That must be the answer.”

“What would you do in another village? Go back to work in a mine? You have three days’ experience, sweet Rachel. You would make pennies, hardly enough to survive.”

She shook her head. She had no solutions, only a young brother to care for. Somehow, some way…

“Come with me to Blackmoor Hall,” he said.

Remembering how her skin had burned beneath his touch, Rachel caught her breath. It was almost as though she hadn’t been alive until that night, as though his kiss had awakened her from a long slumber. If she let herself, she could fall in love with this man, and then where would she be?

Worse off than ever before.

“No. I will not be your whore.”

“I am not asking you to be my whore,” he said. “You will have a place among my servants. You will receive honest pay for honest work. And Geordie can pitch hay in the stables. The training would be good for him. Perhaps he could become a groom or a driver one day.”

She said nothing. The offer was a generous one. Such jobs were not easy to come by. A steady stream of country girls traipsed to the manse, hoping for just such a position. And a job for Geordie too?

But going into service meant giving up the only life she had known. She would no longer be part of the village, no longer run the shop. Everything would change.

It had changed already, hadn’t it? She was trying to hang on to something that wasn’t really there.

“Certainly my offer is better than starving, or working here,” he coaxed.

That was true, but what of her parents’ wishes? Her mother wasn’t yet two weeks cold and Rachel had already lost the shop. And what of her dead father and brother?

What of her living brother, another voice in her head replied. Shouldn’t he matter more? She would never get rich sweeping out fireplaces and polishing furniture. But at least she and Geordie would have a roof over their heads and food to eat.

Druridge touched her arm. “The whole village has turned on you. The only place you will be safe is with me.”

Weary beyond words, she rested her head against the rock wall. “I know.”

“So you accept?”

She thought of Geordie, of how many things he needed that he would go without if she didn’t agree, and nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Let’s go,” he said and helped her to her feet.

Chapter 11

As simple and safe as Lord Druridge had made it sound for her and Geordie to come to Blackmoor Hall, Rachel knew they’d face plenty of hardships. Maybe none so dire as starvation, but she could tell when he turned her and Geordie over to Mrs. Poulson that the housekeeper would not be kind. Poulson resented having them thrust upon her, resented the fact that Druridge had involved himself in household matters. Even though the housekeeper responded in a carefully modulated voice when they were introduced, her courteous mask fell away the moment Lord Druridge left them alone.

“So what am I supposed to do with the both of you?” The housekeeper fisted her hands on her hips and walked around her and Geordie as if they were mere vermin and she was tempted to call out the rat catcher. “You are both far too thin. You won’t have the strength to work like I require. And yet you will need sustenance.”

“Please, ma’am. I will do all you ask. I promise,” Geordie said.

“Fortunately, you won’t be my problem. Flora?” She addressed a scullery maid, who dropped the vegetables she was cutting and hurried over. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Take this one out to the stables and tell Mr. Grude to see to him.” She narrowed her eyes as she glared at Geordie. “I don’t want you in the house unless I have requested your company. Do you understand?”

He glanced at Rachel, obviously fearing that meant he would no longer be able to see her. Rachel wished she could reassure him but dared not speak up in front of the housekeeper.

“Yes, mum,” he said, his face stoic but glum.

Rachel lifted her chin to show her determination. “And I am stronger than I look. I… I was a putter in the mine.”

“And you lasted three whole days.” She laughed in derision. “I have heard all about your abilities.”

Ashamed and humiliated that Poulson would reference in front of Geordie the night she’d been with Lord Druridge, she lowered her eyes. “We will both do our part,” she insisted.

“That you will. I plan to see to it.”

Rachel’s gaze trailed after her brother as Flora led Geordie out through the larder. When he twisted around to catch a final glimpse of her, she could tell he was scared and uncertain of this new world. She could only hope that the stable master would show more kindness than the housekeeper, because this arrangement was the best she could do for him.

“Come on, then,” Poulson snapped. “You can’t stand around all day. You’ve got work to do.”

The contempt that gave those words such a sharp edge made Rachel uneasy, but she followed the housekeeper up the back stairs, which were reserved for the servants to come and go as quietly and unobtrusively as possible, to a drafty garret, where she was given a narrow bed in a row of narrow beds, presumably belonging to other maids. There was no fireplace, which meant nights would be cold. It was chilly now, despite Rachel’s wool dress and shawl.

Surely she’d made the right decision. This had to be better than suffering the recriminations of the villagers and the indignities of working amongst the miners.

But already she missed her freedom, her own bed, the books she loved to read and sell—all that had been her life before. She had no idea what would become of those things. Lord Druridge had indicated they would discuss such matters later. She guessed her belongings would be sold to buy out her lease and Druridge would let both the shop and the house to someone else.