The Lodestone by Charlene Keel

needed also, as badly as her grandfather hated to see her waiting tables; and it was out of the question for Fanny to be excused from her duties.
    “But Miss Cleome,” argued Della, turning considerably paler. “I cannot! I’ve never waked a gentleman for his bath afore. He might be na—” she couldn’t speak the word. “He might not have any clothes on!” she finished miserably.
    So Cleome ordered Mickey, the stable boy, to set the heavy wooden tub in place and then help Della carry buckets of hot water upstairs. When all was ready, he would wake Mr. Stoneham. Mickey was a cheerful, strapping lad and he was happy to trade the stables for the kitchen, where Mrs. Tibbits would be sure to slip him a taste of something delicious. Fanny sulked all during tea and afterwards, while clearing away. Cleome was determined to ignore her and had a smile for Young Sam when she entered the kitchen with a tray full of dishes and found him there.
    “Uh, Miss Cleome, if you please,” he said awkwardly. “I be needing Mickey in the stables now, with the weddin’ party all prancin’ to be off, and all.”
    “Of course,” she replied sweetly. “And he has my thanks for sparing our Della an everlasting mortification.” Young Sam nodded at Della, who blushed and looked away quickly after returning his greeting. Cleome wondered if the scullery maid was in love with the groom. Well, she thought, he’d never find better. Della was a solid, dependable girl and would make Young Sam a good wife. Although Cleome knew that she herself would never marry, she refused to begrudge happiness to those who could.
    Mickey rose from the servant’s tea table, his battered cap in his hands, and informed her that Mr. Stoneham’s bath was finished and the tub cleared away. The gentleman required just one more pail of hot water to finish his shaving, he said, which Della was preparing at that moment. Fanny entered the kitchen then, also laden with a full dish tray, and volunteered to take it up.
    As unschooled as she was in the art of seduction, Cleome didn’t know what Fanny might do; but she was sure the maid was up to some kind of mischief. Fanny was a good, hard worker, Granda had told her after Grandmamma died and he relied upon Cleome more and more to help run the inn, but she needed firm guidance or she was sure to get into trouble. “Thank you, Fanny,” Cleome replied. “But I can manage one pail of water.”
    **
    “Come in!” he roared when she knocked on his door. She opened it to find Drake Stoneham bare from the waist up. His back was to her and muscles rippled across it as he stretched one arm out to grope for a towel. With the other hand, he rubbed his eyes, which were tightly closed. “Dammit, boy! Get in here and fetch me a towel ere I go blind! I’ve got soap in my eyes!”
    Quickly, Cleome entered, set the bucket down, and dipped a towel in the hot water. She thrust it into his hands and he quickly flushed out his eyes.
    “Shall I call for help, Mr. Stoneham?” she inquired, alarmed. Surprised, he turned to her, opened his eyes and stared at her.
    “Oh. It’s you.” As he took the towel away from his face, it was her turn to be surprised. He had shaved off his thick black beard, revealing a firm, square jaw and strong chin. His massive chest tapered down to a slim waist and his fine, white teeth gleamed as he smiled at her. She knew she had never seen a more handsome man.
    “Shall I call for help, sir?” she repeated.
    “No. I’m all right now.” He moved closer to her. “I’m in your debt, Miss Cleome.” His voice slid like dark silk over her name, attracting her like a magnet. She struggled to remain aloof and impersonal.
    “Not at all. Mickey has had to return to the stables. It was no trouble, I assure you,” she said, backing out of the room. “If there’s more you require, you have but to ring the bell and I shall send someone straightaway.” As she closed his door, cutting off his view of her, she