Confessions at Midnight

Chapter Nine

When Daniel arrived home, rather than finding his household dark and asleep, lights blazed in several windows and he was greeted at the door by Samuel.

"Ye'll never guess wot, milord," the footman said before Daniel had even removed his hat.

Uh-oh. The fact that whatever animal Samuel had rescued this time merited him waiting up to tell him about it didn't bode well.

"I can't imagine," Daniel murmured, bracing himself. "What have you brought home this time?"

Samuel swallowed audibly. "It's a… girl."

"A girl… what? A girl squirrel? A girl rabbit?" Good God, he hoped not another girl rabbit. The last one Samuel brought home had promptly given birth to even more rabbits-all of which now resided in the country at Meadow Hill. No doubt the property was overrun with multiple generations of the furry, cotton-tailed creatures.

Samuel shook his head. "No, milord. Just a… girl." He cleared his throat. "Of the female person variety."

Daniel stared at his footman, whose cheeks bore twins flags of scarlet. Before he could speak, Samuel said in a rush, "Found 'er huddled in an alley, milord. Cryin' she were. Thought at first I were goin' to hurt her." Samuel's eyes flashed. "She'd already been hurt."

Daniel's jaw clenched. "How badly?"

"Got two blackened eyes, some cuts, and lots o' bruises. She managed to get away before the bastard who grabbed her hurt her worse." His lips pressed into a tight line then his voice dropped to a whisper. "But she'd been hurt before, milord. I… could tell."

A knot twisted in Daniel's stomach. Yes, Samuel would unfortunately be able to tell. "Where is she? Does she require a doctor?"

"Curled up on the sofa in the drawing room. Probably someone should look at 'er cuts, but when I mentioned a doctor she got upset and refused. 'Tis clear she don't want a man touchin' her, milord, and I can't blame her none fer that. Took some convincin' to get her to leave that alley with me. But with Cook and Mary already gone home to their families for the night, ain't nobody here but men."

Daniel nodded slowly. "Do you know her name?"

"Katie Marshall, milord."

"And how old is Miss Marshall?"

"Nineteen." Samuel's gaze rested steadily on his. "She's a decent girl, milord. Fell on hard times a few months back when the family she worked for let 'er go. Been tryin' to find work ever since. She'd heard about a family needin' a maid and were on her way to the house when the bastard got hold of her. Stole what little money she had and tried to take more than that." Samuel's eyes flashed. "Fought 'im, she did, and got away."

"Good for her," Daniel said quietly. "I think it best we get someone-a woman-here as soon as possible. Lady Wingate's town house is closest. Go there and ask for her maid to come. After you bring her here, you can go for Cook and Mary. And Samuel?"

"Yes, milord?"

"As luck would have it, I'm certain I'm in need of another maid."

Instead of flashing his normal quick grin, Samuel nodded solemnly. "Thank ye, milord. 'Tis the best of men ye are."

As always, Samuel's gratitude and high opinion humbled him. He wasn't the best of men-he knew that all too well. But maybe, just maybe, with Samuel's help, he was making up for a bit of his past failures.

Weary and unsettled after the party, Carolyn was relieved to arrive home. After handing her cashmere shawl to Nelson and bidding the butler good-night, she turned toward the stairway, determined to go to bed and fall into a dreamless sleep.

Alone.

Yes, she was alone.

She frowned. Not alone. Just… without him. She had years' worth of memories to keep her company. Not to mention her sister and her friends. Of course she wasn't alone.

Still, the persistent, nagging question floating through the back of her mind plagued her. Had she done the right thing in refusing Lord Surbrooke's offer?

Yes, her common sense insisted.

No, her heart argued.

She was halfway up the stairs when the bell that indicated the front gate had been opened rang. Seconds later the brass door knocker sounded. Surprised, she turned around and looked at an equally surprised Nelson, who stood in the foyer still holding her wrap.

"Who on earth would be calling at such an hour?" Carolyn asked, unable to keep the concern from her voice. Obviously something was wrong-people didn't knock on one's door at one a.m. because all was well.

Before opening the door, Nelson looked out one of the slender windows flanking the oak door. "'Tis Samuel, Lord Surbrooke's footman," he reported.

Carolyn gripped the banister, her entire body tensing with dread. Dear God, had something happened to Lord Surbrooke? "Let him in," she said, forcing the words around the lump of fear lodged in her throat as she moved in jerky motions down the stairs.

Nelson admitted a tall, out of breath, handsome young man who was clearly relieved to see her. He burst into a rapid staccato speech about finding an injured young woman, bringing her home, and her refusal to see a doctor.

"'Tis a woman she needs, milady, if you understand my meanin'. His lordship sent me to fetch yer maid, to see if she could help."

"Of course," Carolyn said, her relief that it wasn't Lord Surbrooke who was injured colliding with her sympathy for the young woman. She turned to Nelson. "Awaken Gertrude. As soon as she's dressed, escort her to Lord Surbrooke's town house. I'll go with Samuel now."

To Carolyn's amazement, Lord Surbrooke opened the door to his town house himself. His normally perfect appearance was more than a bit disarranged. His hair was rumpled, as if he'd plunged his fingers through the dark brown strands. He'd removed his jacket and cravat and rolled back his shirtsleeves, to reveal muscular forearms dusted with dark hair. She'd never seen him so… undone. The effect was dazzling and momentarily robbed her of her wits.

A loud meow pulled her from her stupor, and she looked down to see a black cat weaving around Lord Surbrooke's boots. A black cat that looked up at her and blinked. With one eye.

She lifted her gaze back to Lord Surbrooke's and noted he seemed as surprised to see her standing in his foyer as she was to see him. After giving herself a stern mental shake, she said, "Samuel explained the situation and my maid is on her way, but I thought I could be of some help. As a physician's daughter and the older sister of one who constantly scraped herself up, I'm quite adept at these matters."

"Thank you," he said, and tunneled his fingers through his hair. "From what Samuel's told me, Miss Marshall's injuries aren't life threatening, but they should be seen to."

"Of course. Where is she?"

"The drawing room. I've gathered some necessities-bandages, water, and salve-and left them outside the door." He turned to Samuel. "I didn't want to enter and frighten her, so we'll all go in together. After we've been introduced, you can go for Cook and Mary."

When Lord Surbrooke opened the drawing room door, Carolyn saw a young woman curled up on the sofa in front of the hearth. She sat up as they entered. A combination of sympathy and anger rushed through Carolyn at the sight of the dark bruises marring the girl's face. Samuel went immediately to her side.

"That's Lord Surbrooke," the young footman said gently, crouching before her, but not touching her. "There's no reason to fear him, or anyone else in this house. His lordship is the one wot saved me and he's promised to help you, too. Give ye a job right here, in his grand house, as a maid. His friend, Lady Wingate, is a very kind and fine lady indeed. She'll look after ye till her maid arrives. Ye have my word ye're in good hands, Katie."

Katie's wide-eyed gaze shifted to her and Lord Surbrooke and she jerked her head in a nod. "Th-Thank ye."

"You're welcome," said Lord Surbrooke.

The three of them brought in the supplies, setting them on the table next to the sofa. Carolyn noted that the room, with its pale green silk walls dotted with pastoral landscapes, rich velvet drapes, and mahogany furniture, reflected understated and excellent taste. Interesting, and rather surprising, as she would have guessed a bachelor gentleman's home more likely to be decorated with stuffed animal heads than elegant paintings.

Her attention was momentarily captured by the beautiful large painting above the mantel. It depicted a woman dressed in a blue gown. Seen from the back, with only the slightest hint of the curve of her face visible, she stood on the terrace of what was obviously a grand manor house. One hand was braced on the stone balustrade while the other was raised to shadow the bright sun as she looked out over the extensive formal English garden, which was in full bloom. An unseen breeze blew the hem of her gown and a lock of her light brown hair. In the background, standing in the garden, was the figure of a gentleman. Carolyn had the distinct impression that even though the man was surrounded by the beauty of the garden, the only thing he saw was the woman on the terrace.

Lord Surbrooke and Samuel departed, leaving her alone with Katie. She offered the girl a reassuring smile and did her best to hide the sympathy overwhelming her. Dear God, the poor young woman was a mess of cuts and bruises.

"My father is a physician, and I learned a great deal from him," she said softly, dunking a clean cloth into a ceramic bowl filled with warm water. "I'd like to clean you up then apply some salve and bandages to the worst of your cuts, if that's all right. I promise to be gentle." She squeezed the excess water from the cloth and held it out. "May I?"

Katie hesitated, then nodded.

Carolyn set to work, first washing away the dirt from Katie's hands. The girl's palms and fingers bore numerous cuts and her knuckles were scraped raw, the nails ripped ragged.

"This happened when you fought off the robber?" Carolyn asked, applying a healing salve to the broken skin on Katie's knuckles. She'd learned from her father long ago that keeping up a light patter of conversation helped take a patient's mind off their injuries.

"Yes, milady."

"You're very brave. And by the looks of these knuckles, you planted the ruffian a few good knocks."

"A few. But it weren't enough. He still made off with all me money, little though it were." As Carolyn continued her ministrations, Katie whispered in a shaky voice, "Do ye think Samuel was right? That Lord Surbrooke will hire me? I can't imagine he would, what with me bein' all cut up and bruised like this." Her swollen eyes welled up with tears. "I looked in the mirror. I know how awful I look."

"I'm certain Samuel wouldn't have said that if Lord Surbrooke hadn't told him so. As for your cuts and bruises, they'll heal."

Katie seemed to relax a bit at that. "I couldn't believe it when Samuel came into that alley. At first I thought he were another footpad, or bent on mischief as men are wont to be. But instead he turned out to be an angel of mercy."

"I heard him say his lordship is the one who saved him. Do you know what he meant?"

"Oh yes, milady. Samuel told me all about it in the hack he hired to drive us here. Talked the entire way, he did. Never in my life have I met a man who talks so much. Usually it's impossible to drag more than a grunt or single word out of 'em."

Carolyn thought of her kindly but taciturn father and smiled. "Men can be frustratingly incommunicative," she agreed.

Katie nodded. "Yes, milady. But not Samuel. Told me all about a cold, rainy night in Bristol, about how he were sick and starvin' and tried to rob the earl, if ye can imagine. 'Cept he didn't get any blunt 'cause he collapsed, right at the earl's feet. But instead of turnin' him in, or just leavin' him in the street like anybody else would have done, the earl picked Samuel up and carried him back to the inn where he was stayin'. Ain't that somethin'?"

Before Carolyn could answer that it was indeed, Katie continued, "The earl got doctors for Samuel and saw to it he got well. And when he did, he offered Samuel a job-provided Samuel never stole again. And he hasn't. Not once. Might not believe just anybody who told me that, but somethin' 'bout Samuel inspires trust. Given the way he's helped me, I believe him."

Carolyn looked up from bandaging Katie's hand, her mind swirling with this surprising information. "And now Lord Surbrooke has offered you a job as well."

"So it would seem, thanks to Samuel."

Finished with Katie's hands, Carolyn wet a clean cloth and gently dabbed at the young woman's face. "How long has Samuel been Lord Surbrooke's footman?" she asked.

"'Bout a year. Sang Lord Surbrooke's praises he did. Not only about savin' him, but then there are the dogs."

"The dogs?" Carolyn repeated, bewildered.

"Stubby, Limpy, and Droopy he called them, all named for their… problems."

"Problems?"

"Yes, milady. Stubby lost his tail, Limpy's missin' a leg, and Droopy only has one ear that's-"

"Droopy?" Carolyn guessed.

"Yes. All were abandoned or left fer dead. Samuel finds the beasts and brings 'em to his lordship and together they save 'em."

With each passing minute Carolyn's amazement grew. She'd had no idea of this aspect of Lord Surbrooke's character. That he was a man who would not only rescue a former thief, but open his home to the young man, and now to Katie. That he would aid in the rescuing of injured and abandoned animals. She hadn't considered Lord Surbrooke to be anything more than a gentleman of leisure who sought his own pleasures.

Such was her amazement, she couldn't help but voice it. "I had no idea Lord Surbrooke devoted his time and resources in such a way."

"'Tis a surprise," Katie agreed. Then her expression hardened. "From wot I've seen, not many men in his position would."

She couldn't argue with that statement. "What else did Samuel tell you?"

"That he just found a new puppy and named him Baldy. And there're other dogs but because they'd gotten so many, they live at his lordship's country estate in Kent. Then there are the cats-Blinky and Tippy."

She recalled the one-eyed cat in the foyer. "I believe I saw Blinky. What is Tippy's ailment?"

"One leg shorter than the others, I believe. Besides the cats there've been a few squirrels and a rabbit. Who quickly popped out several more rabbits."

"That must have been a surprise," Carolyn said with a smile, dabbing salve on a shallow cut over Katie's brow.

"No doubt. And then there's the parrot. His name is Naughty. Don't know why he's named that-we arrived here before Samuel could tell me."

"It makes for interesting speculation," Carolyn murmured.

Katie winced when Carolyn dabbed at a bruise on her cheek. "I'm sorry," Carolyn said. "Does it hurt terribly?" The swollen dark purple skin looked tender and painful.

"No, milady. Certainly not in comparison to some of the hurts I've had."

Carolyn's stomach plummeted at the young woman's bleak words. Before she could find her voice, a knock sounded at the door. Lord Surbrooke entered, followed by her maid Gertrude, whose motherly face was wreathed with concern as she looked at Katie.

"Katie, this is Gertrude, my abigail," Carolyn said. "She's taken care of me for years and is one of the kindest people I've ever known."

"I brought one of my own night rails for ye, my dear, so we can get ye comfortable," said Gertrude, tufts of gray hair sticking out of her obviously hastily donned cap. "Then I'll see to cleanin' yer clothes."

Katie blinked her swollen eyes. "Ain't never had nobody wait on me before."

"I've instructed my butler, Barkley, to show you to one of the guest rooms," Lord Surbrooke said. "I'll send up my maid as soon as she arrives and have Cook prepare some broth."

"Don't you worry, my lord, we'll be just fine," Gertrude said, gently helping Katie to stand. "I'll watch over the young lady."

Barkley stood at attention in the doorway. The butler had clearly been warned about Katie's aversion to strange men, for he made no attempt to assist her, rather just led Gertrude and Katie from the room.

Standing next to the fireplace, Carolyn watched Lord Surbrooke close the door after them. The soft click reverberated in the quiet room. For several seconds he remained facing the door, his head bowed, as if by some weight too heavy to bear. Then he turned and their gazes met. All the unexpected things Katie had told her rushed through Carolyn's mind, and she felt as if she were seeing him for the first time.

He dragged his hands down his face and offered her a ghost of a smile. "Quite an eventful evening."

"Yes…"

Her reply trailed off as he walked slowly toward her, halting when an arm's length separated them. Her body seemed to strain toward him and she braced her knees to keep from stepping forward to erase that slice of space that simultaneously felt like too much and not nearly enough of a distance. She was about to curl her fingers inward so as not to reach out and brush back the errant lock of hair spilling onto his forehead, when he lightly clasped her hands.

Warmth engulfed her fingers. The sensation of his bare hands on hers rippled tingles of pleasure through her. "Thank you," he said, his serious blue eyes steady on hers. "It was very kind of you to help."

"It was my pleasure to do so. That poor girl. She's very fortunate her injuries weren't more severe." Her gaze searched his. "Are you going to take her on as a maid?"

"Yes."

"Do you need another maid?"

He shrugged. "A house this size can always use more help."

His nonchalance proved to her what she'd suspected-that he didn't need another maid at all. Yet he was willing to give an unfortunate young woman a job. Something inside her seemed to shift, but before she could define the sensation, he gently squeezed her hands then released them. She immediately missed the warmth of his skin pressed against hers.

"Would you like to go home?" he asked.

Her common sense told her to leave, that she'd done what she could to help and it was therefore time to go. But her mind buzzed with curiosity, dozens of questions about him she wanted answered. She'd clearly misjudged at least certain aspects of his character. What else had she been wrong about? There was only way to find out. And she very much wanted to know.

"I'll stay with Gertrude, until your maid and cook arrive," she said.

She couldn't tell by his expression if he was pleased or not. Indeed, a curtain seemed to have fallen over his features. "Can I interest you in a drink?" he asked, walking toward a mahogany end table upon which rested a trio of crystal decanters. "I'm afraid I cannot offer you tea until Cook arrives, but I have brandy, port, or sherry, if you'd like."

More to have something to do with her fidgety hands than because she desired a beverage, she said, "Sherry, please."

After pouring the drinks, he rejoined her and lifted his snifter. "Here's to… neighbors. And friendship. You have my gratitude for answering my call for help, especially at such an ungodly hour."

She touched the rim of her glass to his, and the ring of crystal echoed through the room. "'Twas no hardship. I hadn't yet retired."

His gaze skimmed over the aqua gown she'd worn to the Gatesbourne soiree. "So I see. Shall we sit?"

The prospect of sitting with him on the cozy sofa in this cozy room felt far too… cozy. And much too tempting. "Actually, I'm feeling…" Far too drawn to you. "… rather restless." True, although the reason had nothing to do with applying salve and bandages, and everything to do with him.

"Restless. Yes, a feeling I share." He hesitated for several seconds, then suggested, "A walk through the conservatory, then?"

That sounded safe enough.

Certainly safer than the quiet, fire-lit intimacy of the drawing room.

After all, what could possibly happen in a room filled with plants?

She offered him a smile. "A walk through the conservatory sounds lovely."