The Countess and the Cavalier: Hearts in Hiding series by Oakley Beverley

Author:Oakley, Beverley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-24T16:00:00+00:00

6

“Oh, mistress, is this what you really look like?”

Dorcas, who’d been allowed to help Lady Drummond prepare to entertain the two commanders, looked as if she’d never seen such beauty. She’d certainly never seen such a gown, of this Elizabeth was almost certain, and never upon her mistress.

Her response was sharp to hide her shame. “It is not my choice to wear such an unbefitting gown, yet Silas wants me to appear like one of them.” She turned to gain a better view of her ensemble, frowning at the unfamiliar creature before her, all voluptuous swells above and gentle curves below. Her shame was compounded by the surge of excitement she felt to be wearing such an exquisite, sinful creation.

“They will think you are very beautiful, mistress. They’ll surely not hurt you.” Dorcas’ lip trembled as she secured Elizabeth’s hair in her idea of a lady’s coiffure, using the fire iron to fashion a few tendrils around her mistress’ face.

Elizabeth realised she was not the only one who lived in fear. She put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “What has been happening?”

Dorcas sniffed. “All the plate and valuables have been loaded into chests, as you’d expect and…one of the soldiers tried to have his way with Silence, the scullery maid—”

Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath and muttered, “Foul brutes. Do they think they can act with impunity?”

“Captain Trethveyan came upon them, drew his sword and said the man could part company with his ‘you know’ if he ever caught him doing such a thing again.”

Elizabeth went rigid. “It is easy to pretend to be a powerful man in such a case.”

“Oh no, he meant it, and he ordered the man whipped so’s he were made a public spectacle of.” In a rare gesture, Dorcas touched Elizabeth’s cheek. “Captain Trethveyan is a gentleman. Have no fear for tonight, mistress.”

Have no fear for tonight? The table was being set as if for a banquet for three and who knew what whispers were circulating in all corners of the castle. If Elizabeth survived the encounter with the men who were out to crush her, she could never look a single servant in the eye without them questioning her right to be one of them—a good Puritan who lived by the rules laid down by the Lord.

Yet it was Silas who had decreed that she go forth and deport herself like a common harlot.

At last she was ready, her gown, full skirts with frills of fine lace and a crushingly tight bodice pushing up her breasts, presenting her to her own household as not one of them. As the enemy. No better than the detested ladies of court with their wanton ways and their lowly morals.

However, as she made her progress past knots of servants and soldiers, through the corridors of the castle, all bowed or curtsied to her, murmuring their admiration or support. By the time she reached the great entertaining hall she truly felt she’d been born to rub shoulders with

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