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Her rambling speech came to an abrupt halt as she moved to get a better look. "What have you brought home now, Master Levi?" With hands on her hips, she eyed Jensen critically. "Have you by chance found me my new scullery maid? She is most certainly in need of a scrub up. Child, why on earth are you wearing a man's long coat? Well, we will just have to outfit you in some proper female attire."
She pinched Jensen's chin and roughly turned her face this way and that. "Pretty enough," she concluded after her rude scrutiny, to which Levi North responded with an incredulous laugh. "We'll be having to keep an eye on your little brother," she said cryptically. "Her hair is dreadful though, shorn just like a sheep. I'm not certain how much work I can coax out of such a puny lass, but come on girl, don't dawdle. I'll show you to your quarters. We'll need to fatten you up a bit. A maid's of no use if she weighs less than the pots and pans she'll be scrubbing," and with that the robust woman turned and marched up the stairs, a tongue-tied Jensen following almost as if she were under a spell.
She heard Levi North in the distance chuckling. "Yes indeed, that was quite a convincing disguise, Duff Hawthorne."
Moss Rose manor boasted a grand foyer of stark white walls lined with hurricane lamps, each bearing a tapered candle of beeswax, their flickering flames reflecting off the burnished wood planks of the floor. A crewelwork tapestry, depicting a rustic scene, was suspended above a tall-backed bench of black oak, upholstered with rich Moroccan leather. An uniquely beautiful tall-clock, its inner workings visible through its lead-glass door, flanked on either side by two ribbon-backed French chairs, ponderously ticked away the seconds.
Upon entering, Jensen was struck by the familiar aroma of spices. The empty feeling in the pit of her stomach intensified. The mouth-watering fragrances of cinnamon and cloves reminded her of the spice cakes her mother had had prepared for holidays. She didn't know whether to attribute the gnawing ache to a longing for home or to her terrible hunger.
From behind, Jensen heard the hollow echo of Levi's boots on the polished floor. He brushed past her without a glance in her direction.
"Ginger," he called, his deep voice resounding through the large, nearly barren hallway. "Maggs, have you seen Ginger?"
"I'm certain you'll find her in the kitchen with Cook."
Levi strode off in pursuit of the elusive Ginger. Who was this woman he was so eager to find, Jensen wondered. A greasy strand of her hair fell in her face. Disgusted, she quickly shoved it behind her ear. The name Ginger could only belong to a beautiful woman, she was certain, and somehow the thought unsettled her. She envisioned auburn hair curling seductively against a long white neck, cheeks flushed with the heat of the kitchen, cerulean blue eyes wide with excitement as Levi North enters. Jensen could picture the woman slipping one arm around his broad back, the other delicate hand tangling in his glossy black locks, parting her lips in anticipation of a sensual homecoming kiss.
Jensen shook her head to rid herself of the irksome thought. Obviously, she could never be attracted to such a man. It must be due to her hunger and fatigue. Levi North was an ill-bred, heathenish brute. Absolutely everything about him infuriated her.
Maggie's chirruping voice pierced the air. "Has this lass had any sleep? She is really in a muddle," she questioned loudly to no one in particular.
Jensen was greatly relieved when a loud crash emanating from a distant recess of the house distracted Maggie and sent her darting off in the direction of the mishap. She muttered under her breath, "Oh dear, Oh dear, these clumsy oafs I'm forced to oversee . . . ."
Jensen stood dwarfed by the vast, deserted hall, believing that if only she had the strength and courage, she would make a run for it. Her determination to find her aunt had not faltered, but at the moment she was thinking only about food. She pressed her forearm into her stomach hoping to squelch the loud, painful rumblings.
A door opened onto the entry, and a tall, poised woman exited. At the sight of Jensen, she pressed her gloved hand to her mouth in a flimsy attempt at muffling a giggle.
"Oh, Aunt Aggie, do come quickly and see the new stray that Levi's brought home," she exclaimed with shrill delight.
The woman strode over to Jensen and began examining her clothes and hair with a raised brow, her mouth pulled tight in a grimace. Before Jensen could react, a thin, stooped, sour faced older woman joined the younger one. The aunt lifted a monocle, dangling from a chain at her waist, and pressed it to her wrinkled eye.
With a disdainful sniff of her long nose, she dropped the eyeglass. "I thought you told me he'd gone to the coast to pick up the new stable manager. This one must have washed up with the tide."
"Perhaps the cat dragged it in."
Jensen, nearly biting a hole in her tongue to stop herself from screaming, made a move to step around the two women.
Aunt Aggie's gnarled fingers snatched at her arm. "A servant waits to be excused."
The old woman let go of Jensen's arm and wiped her fingers on her dress as though she had touched something vile. "Look at the impertinent creature muddying up the floor." She removed a small silver casket that had been tucked inside of her sleeve and with a practiced jerk of her thumb flipped it open. Pressing one nostril closed with her fingers she took a deep snort of the casket's contents. She sneezed explosively into the lace that cascaded over her wrist. "That's all this plantation needs, another inept servant. Everyone knows that Levi is far too solicitous of his hired help. His reputation as a savvy businessman cannot hold up long if he runs his estate into the ground by sheltering every unfortunate critter that he comes across. This young person . . . by the way, Regina, is this child male or female? I cannot puzzle it out."
"Why, Aunt Aggie, I do believe that this person is of the female persuasion but just barely," Regina answered with a snort.
A sudden, strange clicking sound on the wooden floor seemed to send Regina into a paroxysm of fear. The young woman's face blanched, and she quickly positioned herself behind her aunt, fingers clawing in terror at the old woman's scrawny back. Regina peered with the eyes of a frightened hare over her aunt's shoulder as the sharp tapping sound drew closer.
Jensen watched the doorway with trepidation. When Levi's large, broad-shouldered physique filled the opening, an unexpected wave of relief swept over her.
He leaned his long frame languidly against the door sash, his lips curled in a half-smile. "Now ladies, you're not still afraid of Ginger, are you?"
On cue, a large russet-colored animal nudged past his legs and stood stock-still. Its intense amber eyes stared unblinking at the two terrified women. Jensen had never seen such a beautiful animal, and she felt compelled to touch its luxurious fur. She approached the dog cautiously, allowing the animal to sniff her hand. Growing up, dogs and horses had been her most loyal companions. She'd always had a knack for befriending strange animals.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Levi warned.
Relieved to find that Ginger was only a dog, and in defiance of his words of caution, Jensen proceeded to stroke the plush, reddish fur. Instead of pulling away, the dog nudged her hand with its large head in an affectionate gesture. With confidence, Jensen kneeled down and came face to face with the dog.
"You are the friendliest thing I've encountered since my arrival on these shores," she said in a soft, reassuring tone as the dog gave her a lightning quick lick of the face. "And what a jaunty scarf you have." Jensen straightened the knot of the animal's blue neckerchief. She looked up to find the women's eyes on her, their mouths agape. Even Levi North seemed stunned by her boldness.
"I'm afraid Ginger is not one of your pampered, English hunting dogs. Lest you get too friendly, I think it only fair to warn you that Ginger is a red wolf." His dimple inched up another wicked notch.
Jensen refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch, and though she trembled inside, she continued to gaze steadily into the wolf's feral, yellow eyes and stroke its velvety ears.
"How can you let that ferocious animal
indoors," Regina whined. "Good heavens, a wolf, it scares me witless. Likely, this wretched little waif was raised by wild animals." She looked at Jensen and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "No lady in her right mind would go near that beast," she continued in a self-satisfied manner.
"Dear, obviously we must make an exception for the hired help. She is most assuredly not a lady," cackled old Aunt Aggie as she drew her thin lips into a horrid parody of a smile.
Jensen's face turned flame red with anger at the barrage of insults leveled at her back. Wondering why Levi North had bothered to warn her about his pet when the truly dangerous beasts were standing right behind her, Jensen rose to face her attackers, but the women avoided looking at her. Without further delay, they wrapped their cloaks around their shoulders in hopes of a quick and hasty departure.
A low growl turned everyone's attention back to the wolf. Shifting its intense, yellow stare to Regina, it caused her to begin a cowardly backward retreat, which seemed to irritate the animal more. It stretched back its quivering, black lips in a menacing snarl. Drops of drool hung from its sharp fangs. Regina shrieked and twirled, a flurry of satin and ruffles, in an attempt to safely position herself behind Levi North. In her panic, she shoved Jensen aside. Jensen taking a step backward to steady herself tumbled instead into the coat rack. She couldn't help but laugh at her embarrassing predicament and the sight of Regina and her ridiculous dance. The wolf seemed to enjoy the chaos it had created and thumped the floor with its heavy tail.
"Do be a gentleman, Levi, and escort me to the door," Regina said in a syrupy, sweet voice, her knuckles white from the tight grip she now had on his jacket. She did not give a second thought to Jensen, who was so overcome with giggling she found it impossible to disentangle herself from the coats.
Through tears of laughter, she noticed how close Regina stood to Levi. Raising herself on tiptoes, she leaned into him, pressing her breasts to his chest, her lips parted close to his ear, as though she were sharing a secret. Could this shrew be his wife?
Jensen was surprised to see that his eyes were flickering with amusement at the sight of her floundering in a sea of men's coats. She thought what a sight she must make blushing pink through the grime on her cheeks.
Levi calmly pried Regina's fingers from his lapel and strode to where Jensen lay wedged between the wall and the rack. The crisp ends of his black hair brushed her face as he leaned over her.
"May I be of some assistance?" Without waiting for a reply, he took hold of her hand and pulled her to her feet. He did not release his grip for a moment and Jensen couldn't help noting how callused his fingers were or how his large hand dwarfed her own.
"Astonishing, such chivalry for a filthy little tramp. Good Heavens, Aunt Aggie, stop dawdling, I'm in a hurry," Regina hissed as she stomped toward the front door, the presence of the wolf seemingly forgotten. Her aunt, clucking like an old hen, followed rapidly behind her. "Let Matthias know I'll be waiting for him in the carriage," Regina said with an imperious wave of her hand.
Levi gave his wolf a hearty slap on the flank, "Ginger, I like the way you clear a room."
Jensen, who had just managed to gain her composure, met Levi's eyes alight with a devilish gleam and started laughing again.
"Will you tell me your real name now?" he asked pleasantly.
Her defenses softened by his gentle demeanor, she replied hesitantly, "Jensen . . . Jensen Hawthorne."
"Are you sure?" Levi asked with a sardonic lift of his black brow.
"It makes no difference to me whether you believe me or not," she replied, disappointed that his kindness toward her was so fleeting.
A man's booming voice could be heard descending the staircase behind them, interspersed with a now familiar nagging.
"You're right, Maggie, of course," the man kept repeating, although Maggie's griping continued unabated.
Jensen twisted her head to watch as a lithe, richly dressed man, the housekeeper close on his heels, reached the marble landing. Her jaw dropped as she gazed into the face of the most handsome man she had ever seen.
Chapter 4
Two fingers pushed Jensen's chin up, and her teeth snapped shut, barely missing her tongue. "You really have to do something about that habit of yours," Levi North said roughly. She flushed scarlet, and yet, she couldn't peel her eyes away from the golden god walking toward them. He resembled Levi North, although he was less brawny and slighter in stature, with eyes the crystal blue of a serene mountain pool, and tawny, wavy hair framing his perfectly chiseled features.
"Master North, your brother must be restrained, he is far too liberal with the help. He let Millie off to nurse her sick mother. Well, I happen to know that Millie's mother has been dead these ten years. And that is not the worst of it. He's been sipping whiskey since a'fore noon." The lines around Maggie's mouth creased into a reproachful frown.
"Hell's fire, Matthias, you've been drinking since noon?"
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Matthias shrugged his shoulders.
"If I were going to be spending an afternoon with Aunt Aggie, I'd have started at dawn," Levi said.
After trying unsuccessfully to suppress their amusement, the brothers burst out laughing, which sent Maggie scuttling away, muttering to herself.
Feeling like a toad with her stringy, unkempt hair and greasy, wrinkled clothing, Jensen attempted to follow Maggie, when the golden god sidestepped to block her path. "Levi, you are forgetting your manners. Please introduce me to this elfin creature."
"Introduce you? Hell, she's our new maid, Matthias."
Jensen winced. If only she could vanish and reappear as the well groomed, young woman she had once been.
"I'm Matthias North, the likable half of the North brothers," he said, after casting a censuring glance in his brother's direction. With a sympathetic smile, he took her hand, lifting it to his lips as if he were about to kiss it, but Jensen merely felt his warm breath shivering against her skin. Obviously, his manners only extended so far, Jensen surmised, when faced with a grubby little urchin like herself. And yet, he continued to stare at her, his blues eyes sparkling with interest, and she could almost believe he saw something besides dirt when he looked at her.
"Matthias, leave off, your charm is turning my stomach."
Tuning into his brother's anger, Matthias's gaze shifted, and he eyed Levi with unmistakable curiosity.
"I'm sure Miss Hawthorne would like her hand back."
A mildly chastened Matthias released Jensen's hand, giving her a brief, respectful bow. "You'll have to excuse my brother, Miss Hawthorne, he prides himself on being a surly wretch." Jensen suppressed a giggle.
"Maggie has a bath waiting for her, and God knows she needs it." Levi's lip curled with distaste as his eyes gave her a cruel once over. "Besides, hadn't you better attend to your impatient betrothed?"
Humiliated, Jensen's pale eyes brimmed with tears, but her lush lashes prevented them from spilling onto her cheeks. Bowing her head, she blindly wandered off in the direction she'd seen Maggie take. She didn't really want to find Maggie, though, just a deep dark hole to fall into. She stopped for a moment in the cool hallway. Leaning her head back against the wall, she shut her tired eyes. "Barbarian," she muttered under her breath. What an infuriating man, obviously his savage looks reflected his savage demeanor. The insulting, mannerless villain, she thought, as she listened to him discussing her as though she were merely purchased goods.
"Where did you come upon that little prize?"
"Bought her right off the boat. She's to be Maggie's new scullery maid."
"So I can have the pleasure of watching her flit around the house?" Jensen could hear the interest in Matthias's voice.
"Brother, you can't possibly have any desire for that girl. She looks like a drowned mouse. Her figure wouldn't even put a sack of potatoes to shame. Granted, she has the most amazing eyes I've ever seen, but the rest . . . ."
His words stung her like a slap in the face. It sickened her to think
she would be forced to do this man's bidding for four long years. It struck her that escape, at any cost, even if it meant having to face the gallows, was preferable to being snared in the talons of Hawk North.
Unable to bear any more insults, Jensen wandered down the hallway, her mind teeming with plans. With all the servants employed at Moss Rose, surely one insignificant scullion would not be missed.
***
Matthias was not discouraged by Levi's unflattering assessment of the new maid. If anything, his brother's unusually marked interest increased her appeal. A new conquest was exactly what he needed to take his mind off his impending nuptials, and, if in the process, he managed to rile his usually unflappable brother, so much the better. Hoping to nettle him further, he chose to elaborate upon the beauty of her eyes. "Extraordinary color. Like looking into the eyes of a pussycat. I know exactly where I would like those long lashes to bestow a butterfly kiss." Matthias watched with satisfaction as Levi's expression turned forbidding. "I can just imagine those soft lips wrapped around my . . . ."
"This may come as a surprise to you, Matthias, but I did not take on the girl to satisfy your cravings."
Matthias found the hard edge he heard in his brother's voice fascinating. "I will wager five gold sovereigns that once the girl is cleaned up, she will be quite fetching."
"If you're willing to piss your money away, then who am I to stop you," Levi said, accepting the bet with a wry smile.
Matthias rubbed his hands with glee. "Five gold pieces and that luscious sweetie in my bed. It's going to be a good week."
Matthias waited for a reaction that didn't come before crossing to the foyer. He edged back the sheer lace curtains to take a furtive peek out the window. He flinched, as though someone had just given him a hard tug up on his breeches. With utmost care, he replaced the curtain and hurried away from the window.
"Matt, you are heading in the wrong direction. Most visitors to Moss Rose do not park their carriages in the library. I believe Regina awaits the honor of your company in the courtyard."