Angel of Hawkhaven by Maren Smith

Author:Maren Smith [Smith, Maren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A Red Hot Romance Spanking Novel
Published: 2013-06-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

My resolve not to wear Lady Victoria’s dress lasted three days, then my vanity got the best of me. It was Sunday and the day of my first free afternoon. Regardless of this, the master’s house was a God-fearing one, in which everyone was expected to attend the local service. This meant I had to hurry to get Lady Victoria washed, dressed, and her hair and makeup perfect before rushing back to my room to prepare myself. Most of the staff attended the Sabbath in their uniforms, but my eyes fell upon Victoria’s beautiful pink gown and all I could think was: When else would I ever find the opportunity to wear such a fancy dress?

My work roughened hands caught on the delicate fabric, but my skin remembered the heavenly touch of satin. My ears delighted at the whisper it made as I walked, vain as a peacock, down the steps and across the entrance hall with my head held high.

There were no formalities on the Sabbath. Both the master’s coach and the servant’s wagon were waiting out front, and I could all but hear Victoria’s squeak of outrage when I wore her gown from the house. None of my fellow servants said a word, however, as I was helped up to sit in the wagon alongside them. Companions, as I had discovered, were on par with governesses when it came to the intricate social stations of the serving class. The only friend I had in all of Derbyshire was Hawkhaven himself, and that was a singularly depressing thought to dwell on.

That’s all right, I told myself as we rode to church in silence. I needed money and security, not friends.

Since this was my half-day, it was Bess who pushed Victoria’s chair up to the church steps. Three strong men lifted both her and it together, muscling it up twenty-seven steps into the cathedral. I was no architect, but it was an impressive old church. Tall and square, and in the midst of renovations. Two stories of scaffolding fenced in the lovely stained-glass windows, bare bones without so much as a hint of a worker anywhere upon them. Not on Sunday, not when the building in question was a church.

Although located almost dead center in the middle of town, not a single person who was not a member of the Hawkhaven household attended the service, which left a good number of empty pews in that long, gold-gilded nave. Hawkhaven and his sister sat all the way up in the very front, bare feet from the apse and the priests who performed the service. Victoria held herself as regal as a queen in her wheelchair, with Bess a short distance behind her in case she was needed. After that, seating of the servants was arranged by the same social hierarchy that ruled our lives, beginning with the dour butler, Grimsby, who sat opposite of Bess on the other side of the nave.

I should have been up front with Bess. I

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