Second Chance Cinderella. Carla Capshaw
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Croft that she and Sam used to visit.
Her feet aching, she ignored her training and sat down. Beside her, a chest of drawers offered partial concealment from anyone not intent on finding her.
The need for rest demanded she sleep. She fought the urge to kick off her tight shoes and leaned her head against the chest of drawers, promising herself she’d close her eyes for just a moment.
* * *
Sam waited ten excruciating minutes before excusing himself from Lady Fulton and the endless account of her madcap pugs. He didn’t usually make tactical errors, yet he’d failed spectacularly today when he’d come up with the harebrained scheme of having Rose brought in to serve. He’d been an idiot to imagine watching her from across the room through several long courses of rich food and vacuous conversation would be anything less than torture. Not that she’d suffered the same ill effects.
If her behavior this evening was anything to go by, he was no more than a nuisance to her, a relic from the past that she’d best like to forget. His reappearance and the unusual task he’d given her tonight may have knocked her off-kilter, but she’d handled every demand with a reserve and poise not found in someone that was overly upset.
Ignoring the annoyed glances Amelia cast his way, he strode into the corridor. The maids clearing the dishes stopped their task and bobbed a curtsy. He looked to his right. The warm, yellow glow of several gas lamps lit the long hallway, but he saw no sign of Rose.
Had she disappeared again? Unreasonable panic gripped him. Had he been such an ogre she would risk the danger of leaving this late at night without an escort? If anything ill happened to her, the fault would lie with him.
So far the pendulum of his emotions had swung between disbelief and anger to desperate, irrational longing. His need to feel indifferent warred with a base desire to hurt her as deeply as she had wounded him. Why her sudden appearance troubled him after their many years apart and all he’d accomplished was an enigma that demanded attention. If he believed God had the slightest interest in him, he might even pray for the answers.
A small movement on the far side of an antique chest filled him with relief. He raked his fingers through his hair. He hated the way she made him feel every emotion—good or bad—like the blow of a hammer, but at least she hadn’t left him.
He reached her in three strides. The shadows guarded her. Encased in black as she was, he could barely see her slumped against the large piece of furniture, her head tipped against the wood. Her cap was askew and her eyes were closed. Fast asleep, she sighed softly, drawing his attention to the full curve of her bottom lip and the delicate point of her chin.
He watched her, afraid to touch her because he wanted so much more than she cared to give. If only he’d married her before coming to London, she might still be his. She wouldn’t have had the chance to forget him or fall in love with someone else. Did her husband have any inkling how fortunate he was to have stolen her heart?
Desperate for a distraction from such gloomy thoughts, he settled on the memory of Sanbourne touching her. How he would love to smash the old leech. In their younger years, he’d been too poor and powerless to protect Rose from the vultures who’d reckoned paying for a room at the inn where she worked included the right to grope her. How many times had he promised that when he made his fortune, he’d see her treated with respect?
Yet, here he was, the master of the house and she’d been subjected to the same foul behavior. Worse, in his study earlier he’d given her the impression she wasn’t safe from him, either, that he would treat her in any fashion he saw fit.
Guilt assailed him. As lovely as she was, she’d never been a stranger to male interest. As far back as the school yard, her sun-kissed hair, bright blue eyes and delicate stature had drawn admirers like honeybees to a wildflower. Without knowing how many times he’d warned those same blokes away from her, she’d been mindful of their feelings and treated each of them with kindness—a far cry from how he’d treated her this evening.
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