Manservant

5

I dreamed about him that night. Dreamed about what might have happened had I stayed in that shed. Dreamed of feverish kisses and his hands, hot to the touch as they caressed my skin. Dreamed of him moaning in my ear. Dreamed of him yanking my clothes aside so he could take in my naked body.

So far, I'd been resisting all attempts to marry me off, playing silent and cold during conversations with Mother about 'promising candidates'. But things were different with Theo.

That frightened me. I didn't entirely trust myself around him. I didn't even know who I was around him. It was like I turned into a whole other Alicia or something. Oh God, if Mother or anyone knew that I'd kissed him – or rather, that I'd let him kiss me – I would be as good as dead.

I knew that when looking for a wife, men wanted a woman who was untouched. I couldn't help feeling as if everyone would be able to see the brand of Theo's lips against mine, even though I knew that was irrational.

And it wasn't just that. The fact that he was a Larian servant – Mother would consider it a special kind of sin.

"You're awfully quiet this morning, Alicia," she said to me over breakfast.

"I'm just a little tired." Fortunately, she was so busy preparing for the party, she hadn't found out about my sneaking in late last night. Maia and the others had also helped me make it in safely. They'd always looked out for me, and I loved them for it.

"I'm going to the dressmaker's today. Do you girls want to come?"

"For the wedding dress?" Felicity asked.

"That's right. So? What do you say?"

"Of course I'll come."

I suppressed the urge to groan. Mother was looking at me expectantly, so I nodded. "Yes. I'll come."

That was how I spent the entire afternoon in town with the two of them, watching her discuss designs and try on some pieces.

"I know it's a little early," Mother said to us as we emerged from the store at last. "But the dress really is the most important part – "

"You stupid Larian!" a shout interrupted her, and we all turned our heads to look. A well-dressed woman was yelling at a servant girl who looked little older than Felicity as they stood next to her carriage. "You forgot the money! Forgot or stole it??"

"No, Ma'am, I would never – "

"Shut up! Before I take the whip to you."

I started forward, but Mother grabbed my arm. She looked a little pale. "No. Don't be a fool, Alicia."

"How did you know I was going to – ?"

"I know you," she replied. "That's Lady Marcia, the Count's wife."

"I know who she is."

"You don't want to offend her."

"That doesn't mean she can treat her servants like that."

Mother lowered her voice as she said, "I admit she's a little demanding ... "

"Demanding! Mother, do you hear yourself? Let me go!" I shrugged her arm off.

"Alicia, no!"

I marched up, opening my mouth and ready to speak my mind. But before I could say a word, someone tapped Lady Marcia's shoulder from behind.

"Excuse me," a smooth baritone sounded, spoken by a man with fair hair around a face of soft brown eyes and pleasing, boyish features. He was attractive, but more than that, exuded undeniable authority in the black military coat sitting upon his broad shoulders.