Whispers in the Reading Room by Shelley Gray Page A

she was clean before he touched her. She’d been more ashamed than she could ever remember.
    Still ignoring her standing in front of him, Hunt asked, “What do you want me to do after I get her outfitted, sir?”
    “Order her some food.” Mr. Marks had looked her over like she’d been a flea-bitten dog. And a half-starved one at that. “See that she eats.”
    Mr. Hunt had nodded. “Of course.”
    Mr. Marks had then glared at her. “The skin under your eyes looks almost bruised. Have you slept?”
    She hadn’t known whether to apologize about her haggard appearance or merely answer. She opted to simply answer him honestly. “Not recently, sir.”
    “Get some rest then. You may have use of my private sitting room.”
    She was suddenly very, very confused. “Where do you want me to await you?” Deciding to stop pretending he saw her as anything but a fallen woman, she swallowed. “Do you want me to await you in your bed? Sir?”
    His eyebrows had risen, and Mr. Hunt had uttered a noise that had sounded suspiciously like he was choking on his own tongue.
    She’d felt her body flush with embarrassment but held her head high. After all, she knew her life would be forever changed when she walked through the doors of the Silver Grotto. Though she feared the future, it sounded as if she was going to have the opportunity to bathe, eat, and wear clean clothes for the first time in a long while.
    Her life had been very hard after her employer had seen her slap Mr. Avondale when he tried to force his attentions on her. Rather than hold the cad accountable, Mr. Pinter had fired her without references.
    She was smart enough—and desperate enough—to make sure she didn’t lose a bath, clothes, and food right away.
    But when Mr. Marks at last spoke, his voice was as gentle as if he were coaxing a newborn foal to its feet.
    “Miss O’Connell, I beg your pardon. I am hiring you to be my personal maid at the Hartman Hotel, not to be my paramour. Hunt will secure your own room at the hotel. I simply wanted to go over my expectations after you had bathed, eaten, and rested in my suite until Hunt can make that arrangement. But I see we should begin here.”
    “Oh.” She was so surprised, she couldn’t think of another word to say.
    “You will find I am not a difficult taskmaster as long as you adhere to my three basic tenets.” Looking her over, he continued. “I don’t put up with liars, thieves, or gossips.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “That means you will not steal from me.”
    “No, sir.”
    “You will not make up stories about why you are late for work.”
    “I will not be late.”
    Impatiently, he brushed off her words. “If something spills, a dish breaks, a button gets lost and you are unable to replace it, tell me.”
    “Those things won’t happen.” She would make sure of it. “I was an excellent ladies’ maid for the Pinter family.”
    “Quiet now,” Mr. Hunt ordered from behind her back.
    Embarrassed by her inability to refrain from blurting every little thing that popped into her head, she straightened and attempted to heed Mr. Hunt’s advice as her new employer continued on.
    “To continue, I am willing to hire you because I am weary of the hotel maids and attendants discussing my habits.” Cool, dark indigo eyes met her own. “Do you feel you can avoid that, Miss O’Connell? Can you keep my secrets?”
    His voice was silky. Filled with dreams of everything she hoped to have and hinting of things she’d never imagined. And in that moment, she knew she’d do whatever it took to keep this job. She would be fiercely loyal to one man and one man only. To Mr. Sebastian Marks.
    She’d nodded slowly.
    And in that quiet nod, his eyes had lit up with something that looked much like happiness. “Very well. You may go now. Hunt will discuss your pay and sleeping arrangements after you have an opportunity to bathe and eat and rest. On my couch,” he added with the faintest of smiles.
    “Yes, sir. Thank