Soul Of A Highlander (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)(32)

“Follow me,” the woman said. She led him back down the hallway and to a door on his left. “There.”

Francis thanked her and she left.

He stood in front of the door. He felt peculiar. He'd never felt threatened by a piece of furniture, but that door – stark, black and impermeable – made him feel threatened.

He raised his hand and knocked.

Nothing.

He felt, if anything, disappointed. After all the courage it took to come here, to knock on the door in the beginning...to have no answer was a real leveler.

He sighed and turned away. What did he expect?

Just then, the door opened and a face appeared round it. Obscured in shadow, all he could see were the woman's eyes. Soft and luminous in the half-light of the hall, she looked out at him kindly. “Yes?”

“Uh...excuse me,” Francis said, feeling stupid. “Are you Lady Claudine's maidservant?”

“Yes,” the woman said. He could see her frowning. “Can I help?”

Francis could smell the scents of roses and lavender floating from the lady's room beyond her and his senses caught fire. He breathed deeply and composed himself.

“I wanted to speak with you.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Me, sir?” Her eyes went wide but the expression was more surprise than fear. “You know who's chamber this is, yes?”

Francis chuckled, surprised by her boldness. “Yes, I know. Lady Claudine's.” Just saying her name made him shiver. He frowned and tried to look less like he was dreaming about Lady Claudine. He thought the maid noticed anyway, because her expression changed from impervious to interested.

“Yes. Did you want to deliver a message for her?” she asked kindly.

Francis shook his head. “I was...Miss, can I trust you?”

The maid's eyes widened. “It depends,” she said guardedly.

Francis felt his heart thump, seeing her become suspicious of him again.

“The thing is, I...I need to see your mistress. To speak to her. I'm leaving the day after tomorrow and I have to tell her...” he paused, swallowing. “I have to tell her what I feel about her.”

The woman's face cleared. Her brow shot up with surprise. “Well, then. I...this is irregular, I hope you are aware, but for this...I can make allowance.”

Francis felt like singing. She was going to help them! “Thank you,” he breathed.

The maid gave him a stern look, and then grinned. “Now, sir,” she said. “You are about to ask me to override my basic duties as a chaperone. But I am going to do it – just this once, mind. If you meet me here at six of the clock tomorrow,” she whispered, “I shall let you in.”

“In here?” Francis gulped. He was going to meet Claudine in her bedchamber. With that sweet scent of roses around them?

The maid shot him a look. “I'll be here, milord. Never fear,” she added grimly.

Francis had to laugh. “I am sure you are a veritable tigress of a protector for your lady.”

He was surprised to see the maid's face soften. “I care for her as if she were my sister,” she said in a small voice. “And woe befall any who hurt her.”

Francis nodded. Her voice had gone as hard as steel and he knew that she would be a formidable adversary if crossed. “Yes, Miss.”

She smiled at him, surprising him. “You'll do,” she said.

Francis frowned. He wasn't sure what she meant by that. However, it sounded like a compliment so he bowed. “Thanks, Miss. And...Thank you even more for the risk you take for us.” If she was found out letting a man into her mistress' chambers she would certainly lose her position in the household.

She snorted. “I'd risk more for her. And the risk's for all three of us. I pray I'm not being a fool. Now go, before someone sees you.”

Francis nodded. “Thank you, Miss,” he said again.

He walked up the hallway quickly, sure he heard a derisive chuckle from the maidservant as he beat a hasty retreat.

He wasn't thinking about that, though. He was thinking about tomorrow. About seeing Lady Claudine – being alone with her. Having time to talk without uncles or guests or Gaspard or...anyone...to restrain them. Anyone except the maid. Who was on their side.

He couldn't have imagined such happiness if he'd tried.





CHAPTER ELEVEN





TAKING SWEET RISK





TAKING SWEET RISK





The next morning, Francis was impatient with nerves. He couldn't quite believe he'd agreed to do this. How could he!

If he was caught visiting Claudine in her chambers, well...disgrace would be the least of what would happen to him. Not just for him, either. What would happen to her didn't bear thinking about. Her reputation would be ruined, her prospects finished.

“I must be insane.”

“What's that?”

Gaspard spoke from behind him, making him jump.

Francis put a hand on his chest, feeling his heart thump. “Oh! Gaspard. You...” he shook his head, running out of suitable expletives. “You scared me.”

Gaspard chuckled. “I'm sorry. You must be jumpy. Slept badly?”

Francis gave him a dirty look. “What do you think?” He felt tired and awful and he was sure he looked it, too.