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I tensed. He’d obviously put two and two together and realised that I’d booked onto the tour to suss him out. How embarrassing!
But what did I have planned? A trip to Sainsbury’s for a bottle of wine and a heat-and-eat meal for one, then an evening alone in front of the telly.
I shrugged, attempting to seem casual when, really, I’d been sprung like a jack-in-the-box. ‘I guess so. But I’m not dressed to go out, and you might want to change?’
‘Nah, they’re used to me at the local.’
So much for being incognito. I was now on a quasi-date with a guy who looked like he’d escaped from a nineteenth-century prison!
Chapter 8
If this was love, I didn’t think much of it. Mostly, it was misery shot through with rays of heaven when I happened to glimpse a starched elbow from a doorway, a tuft of raven hair outside a window heading towards the makeshift stables, or a well-polished boot travelling past the kitchen door.
My days continued as usual, but Jasper was always on the edge of my consciousness, like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I could not help but think of him in the morning when I tidied away the breakfast things and saw the cup from which he had drunk. Or in the afternoon when I saw a book he’d been reading left spreadeagled on the sofa. Then again in the evening when I smelt his strange and exotic cigar smoke waft through the house.
He invaded the very air I breathed. I felt his presence drifting through the house like spores from a dandelion, but I couldn’t get a hold of my mind whenever I was in the same room as him. My vision seemed cloudy and smeared, as though I was peering at him through the upstairs windows, which still needed a good clean.
Throughout the next week, he didn’t speak to me other than a forced ‘thank you’ whenever I cleared his plate or poured his coffee. This was not too surprising seeing as I was a servant, and Jasper had classed me with the lowliest of worms. I saw him wince each time Sebastian addressed a friendly comment to me and my ensuing reply was not in keeping with my position.
When I reported back to Sebastian about Lord Alby’s book (I had read it over three nights and found it entertaining, if a bit lewd), I could see it pained Jasper dreadfully. ‘Why are you teaching her to read?’ his grimaces seemed to say. ‘She is a housemaid and will stay that way. Why make her think she is anything else?’
As I could not gain his admiration, I took my pleasure from looking at him instead. I learnt to observe without seeming to do so. With a quick eye swivel while putting down the rack of toast, I could see he looked tired. Did that annoying rooster wake him at four o’clock this morning as it had done I? Or a downwards glance while pouring coffee would show me his nails were bitten ragged. Was he nervous about something? If I stood slightly closer (but not too close!) on the pretence of brushing away crumbs from the tablecloth, I could inhale his subtle odour of spice and smoke.
I yearned for there to be some sign that he was similarly affected. Apart from his hand shaking while clutching the newspaper the first evening, I had never seen him anything but composed. He seemed to have a ready wit, although at times bordering on the sarcastic; and Sebastian enjoyed his company, even if for the sport of goading him about his airs and graces. In fact, half the time, I don’t think he even knew he was being goaded as he refused to believe that anyone else’s opinion could be superior to his own.
It was strange, but Jasper’s shortcomings only served to make me desire him even more. I could see what he was, but I loved his imperfections nonetheless. The unbearable sting of some pompous comment was conjured like magic into a sweet rush of affection by my forgiving nature. The curl of a disdainful lip transformed into an adorable quirk and a contemptuous eyebrow arch could almost make me swoon.
Until now, I had held myself to be a sound judge of character. When one’s face is marked by the pox, you can easily see through people who don’t wish to delve deeper than the ugly casing. I knew Jasper to be one of them, but it was like he had me under a kind of spell, and it was bewildering. I had never experienced anything like it before.
My one fear—and it was my greatest—was that he would somehow discover how I felt. I sensed keenly that this knowledge in his hands would not be a good thing. So I strove to keep my feelings hidden at all cost—and I almost succeeded.
As requested by Sebastian, one of my tasks was to clean Jasper’s room. This usually took place when Sebastian knew that Jasper would be out of the house for a certain period.
The first time, I merely changed the sheets on the bed and gave the dresser a cursory dust. But this time, when Sebastian requested it, I leapt at the chance. Snooping wasn’t in my nature, but I knew that this would be the only way to find out anything about Jasper as I couldn’t ask too many questions of Maggie.
Everything I knew about him I could count on the fingers of my left hand, and such was the disastrous state of my heart that the merest drop of knowledge could quench its thirst for days.
On this occasion, Jasper left the house after breakfast to go riding, so I hurried up the kitchen stairs and along the corridor to his room, fearful that he could return at any moment and find me in there. The room was in some disarray. Piles of clothes were on the floor, so it took me a while to search the pockets of his breeches and waistcoats thoroughly for any letters or trinkets. I found nothing but a few acorns.
After tidying the clothes, I turned my attention to his dresser and slowly slid out the top drawer with a beating heart. But the contents didn’t tell me much: a pile of handkerchiefs, a bit of loose change, and a Bible, which I’m sure was probably Sebastian’s. The bottom drawer was empty. I was growing frustrated. Jasper must have some personal keepsake or letter that would reveal something—anything.
Then horror of horrors, I heard footsteps on the landing outside heading directly for the room! Without thinking, I threw myself into the armoire and had just pulled the door shut when Jasper strode in. The door was solid oak, so all I could hear was muffled footsteps walking deeper into the room and then stopping. I was sure he could hear the pounding of my heart—it was so loud. Dear God, I prayed, whatever it is he’s come back for, please don’t let it be in the armoire!
In the darkness, I shut my eyes and kept very still. I didn’t hear Jasper take another step. The tension was unbearable, and I hardly dared breathe. I grasped a nearby coat for comfort and reached my hand inside its depths. My fingers touched paper in the breast pocket. A letter! Slowly and unbelieving of my daring, I slid it from the coat and deposited it into my apron. I wondered what on earth I was going to do with it, but I tried not to think about that.
Jasper let out a sigh of exasperation, then walked abruptly to the dresser, and I heard a drawer being yanked open and coins jingling. Then he left. I felt like collapsing and never coming out of the armoire, but I had to. I waited for what felt like ten minutes, then waited another five for good measure. By this time, I was utterly fed up with the armoire and the scent of camphor from Jasper’s coats was making me feel light-headed.
Cautiously, I creaked open the door and peeked out. Empty. I crept out softly and tiptoed across the room. When I reached the dresser, I spied something that nearly made me pass out: my dusting cloth was on the floor by the bed. I felt physically ill knowing he must have seen it. Hoping he thought it was Maggie’s, I stuffed it into my apron along with the letter and left the room with some relief.
Jasper was outside, leaning casually against the main stair banister, and he looked at me quizzically. We stared at each other. I didn’t know for the life of me what to say. The silence became thick and awkward. His eyes bored into me until I felt like a moth pinned to paper. A slow blush started at my neck and moved upwards until I was squirming with embarrassment. Jasper’s eyes narrowed as he noted my extreme discomfort at being caught out.
Then my worst nightmare happened; something clicked into place in his head. I could almost hear the pieces of the puzzle lock together. And then he smiled—a slow devastating smile that made me fear he knew the thing I had most wanted him not to find out. Still smiling, he tossed a coin in the air, caught it, and walked off down the stairs, leaving me gasping in despair. I knew I was in big trouble.
For the rest of the day, I was in a state of agitation. I had managed to govern my senses somewhat where Jasper was concerned. But now I completely lost control of my mind, and it spun wildly in a universe of its own. All I could think was He knows I’m in love with him. Dear God, what is he going to do?
Maggie saw my edginess and commented, ‘Lord love us, girl, you’re out of sorts today. That’s the third time I’ve asked you to pick basil, and you’ve brought me back parsley. What’s with you?’
I made some excuse about feeling poorly and escaped as soon as I could to my room late in the afternoon. I stood by the window, took some deep breaths, and leaned my hot forehead against the pane. I had to leave the rectory. I couldn’t continue to work here now that Jasper had this kind of control over me. I was under no illusion the feelings would be returned. How could they be? There was no way I—a poor pockmarked housemaid—could compare to the kind of rich, beautiful women he would love and admire.
