close Jack could feel the warmth of her brilliant light. He stiffened slightly when she bent toward him, not knowing what to expect. He felt a heat against his ear, and a rasp of sound so low he thought he imagined the words.
She will save you.
“What? What did you say? Who are you talking about?”
If there was an answer, it was lost in the far reaches of the room. The light dimmed, and Lady Amelia was gone. Jack groaned and closed his eyes. Sleep came instantly. When he woke the next morning, he recalled Lady Amelia’s words and wondered what they meant. The pesky ghost was fast becoming a bloody nuisance.
Moira awakened late. Having had her rest rudely interrupted the night before, it was close to dawn before she’d finally fallen asleep.
“Are you awake, miss?” The question followed a timid rap on the door.
Moira smiled when she recognized Pettibone’s voice. “I’m awake, Mr. Pettibone. Come in.”
Pettibone entered, bearing a tray of steaming tea andtempting biscuits. “Are you hungry, miss? I’ll have something more substantial later.”
“Do you cook, too, Mr. Pettibone?” Moira asked of the erect old man.
“I do, indeed, miss. A woman comes in twice weekly to clean and wash, but I do whatever needs doing in between.”
“You’re a gem, Mr. Pettibone. I hope Sir Jack appreciates you. Perhaps when my arm heals, I can help.”
Pettibone beamed, smoothing the lines in his weathered face. “Oh, no, miss, Sir Jack wouldn’t allow it.” He flushed and looked away in embarrassment. He wondered how Moira would react to the news that Jack had confided to his valet his plans to pass her off as a lady.
Unaware of his thoughts, Moira continued brightly, “I’d like to get up today. My arm feels much better.”
“Sir Jack will tell you when you may leave the bed.”
“Please tell Sir Jack I’d like to speak with him,” Moira requested.
“Certainly, miss, as soon as he returns. He’s gone to call on young Lord Fenwick.”
Jack faced Spence over the breakfast table. None of the other Fenwicks had arisen yet, and Spence would still be abed if Jack hadn’t pounded at the door at the ungodly hour of nine in the morning.
“What can I do for you, Jack?” Spence asked, yawning hugely. “Rumor has it you and Lady Victoria left together last night. I arrived shortly after you left. Have you proposed yet?”
“Forget Victoria, Spence. That’s not why I’m here.”
“Why in the deuce are you here at this early hour? Are you having problems with the Irish lass?”
“I wish it were that simple,” Jack muttered, recalling the kiss that had nearly led to something more and how it had affected him. “My problem concerns my lack of blunt. ’Twasnot my intention, but Victoria met Moira last night, and I had to introduce the wench as my ward. In order to keep this all circumspect and avoid nasty gossip, I must hire a maid to act as chaperon. Otherwise we’ll find suitors few and far between. The girl has no fortune to commend her.”
“I concur wholeheartedly, but I’m slightly bent myself until my next quarterly allowance. I’d hate for my parents to know I’ve gambled away my last quarterly. I don’t come into my own fortune for two more years.”
“Bloody hell, what a sad state of affairs when neither of us can afford the price of a maid. I won several hundred pounds at the tables last night, but I gave it all to Pettibone to settle some of the more pressing debts I’ve run up.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Spence said brightly. “There are so many maids in this house, my mother can’t keep track of them. I’ll simply go to the kitchen, select one of the kitchen helpers and loan her to you for a few months. No one will be the wiser, and she can remain on the Fenwick payroll.”
“You expect a scullery maid to act as maid to Moira?”
“Do you have a better solution?” Spence asked, pleased at having solved the problem so handily. “Let’s go and see who’s available
She will save you.
“What? What did you say? Who are you talking about?”
If there was an answer, it was lost in the far reaches of the room. The light dimmed, and Lady Amelia was gone. Jack groaned and closed his eyes. Sleep came instantly. When he woke the next morning, he recalled Lady Amelia’s words and wondered what they meant. The pesky ghost was fast becoming a bloody nuisance.
Moira awakened late. Having had her rest rudely interrupted the night before, it was close to dawn before she’d finally fallen asleep.
“Are you awake, miss?” The question followed a timid rap on the door.
Moira smiled when she recognized Pettibone’s voice. “I’m awake, Mr. Pettibone. Come in.”
Pettibone entered, bearing a tray of steaming tea andtempting biscuits. “Are you hungry, miss? I’ll have something more substantial later.”
“Do you cook, too, Mr. Pettibone?” Moira asked of the erect old man.
“I do, indeed, miss. A woman comes in twice weekly to clean and wash, but I do whatever needs doing in between.”
“You’re a gem, Mr. Pettibone. I hope Sir Jack appreciates you. Perhaps when my arm heals, I can help.”
Pettibone beamed, smoothing the lines in his weathered face. “Oh, no, miss, Sir Jack wouldn’t allow it.” He flushed and looked away in embarrassment. He wondered how Moira would react to the news that Jack had confided to his valet his plans to pass her off as a lady.
Unaware of his thoughts, Moira continued brightly, “I’d like to get up today. My arm feels much better.”
“Sir Jack will tell you when you may leave the bed.”
“Please tell Sir Jack I’d like to speak with him,” Moira requested.
“Certainly, miss, as soon as he returns. He’s gone to call on young Lord Fenwick.”
Jack faced Spence over the breakfast table. None of the other Fenwicks had arisen yet, and Spence would still be abed if Jack hadn’t pounded at the door at the ungodly hour of nine in the morning.
“What can I do for you, Jack?” Spence asked, yawning hugely. “Rumor has it you and Lady Victoria left together last night. I arrived shortly after you left. Have you proposed yet?”
“Forget Victoria, Spence. That’s not why I’m here.”
“Why in the deuce are you here at this early hour? Are you having problems with the Irish lass?”
“I wish it were that simple,” Jack muttered, recalling the kiss that had nearly led to something more and how it had affected him. “My problem concerns my lack of blunt. ’Twasnot my intention, but Victoria met Moira last night, and I had to introduce the wench as my ward. In order to keep this all circumspect and avoid nasty gossip, I must hire a maid to act as chaperon. Otherwise we’ll find suitors few and far between. The girl has no fortune to commend her.”
“I concur wholeheartedly, but I’m slightly bent myself until my next quarterly allowance. I’d hate for my parents to know I’ve gambled away my last quarterly. I don’t come into my own fortune for two more years.”
“Bloody hell, what a sad state of affairs when neither of us can afford the price of a maid. I won several hundred pounds at the tables last night, but I gave it all to Pettibone to settle some of the more pressing debts I’ve run up.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Spence said brightly. “There are so many maids in this house, my mother can’t keep track of them. I’ll simply go to the kitchen, select one of the kitchen helpers and loan her to you for a few months. No one will be the wiser, and she can remain on the Fenwick payroll.”
“You expect a scullery maid to act as maid to Moira?”
“Do you have a better solution?” Spence asked, pleased at having solved the problem so handily. “Let’s go and see who’s available
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