London Husband

Chapter 2: London's Most Beautiful Maid

Coming to the market, Emma, humming a fashionable song to herself, went into the store and bought several dozen eggs. It was not particularly convenient to carry them, but she tried to keep a carefree appearance. A kitchen girl should be accustomed to work and easily cope with such a burden, and Emma did not want anyone to suspect that she was disguised. In addition, she felt strong enough, and the house was not so far away.

"Thank you, sir," said Emma to the grocer, and he answered her with a smile:

"Are you new here?" By reprimand it seems that they came from the colonies.

Emma's eyes widened in amazement. She did not expect such inquiries from the grocer.

"Yes, I grew up in the colonies, but I've been living in London for several years," she lied.

- A! I've always wanted to see America. - The seller sighed.

Emma nodded sympathetically, but did not join in a lengthy conversation, as she should have returned home before Bell began to worry about her. Continuing to smile, she backed toward the door. "Come again, little missy. Who do you serve?"

But Emma had already jumped out of the door, pretending that she had not heard the last question.

By the time she walked halfway to the house, her mood had risen and she began to whistle in full confidence that she had accomplished the task without a hitch. She enjoyed looking at the Londoners, hurrying on business, not doubting that in the maid's suit no one could recognize her.

Suddenly, right in front of her, a boy of about five jumped out of the elegant carriage, into which were harnessed two bay horses, and, clutching a cocker spaniel puppy, scratched him behind his ears. A black and white puppy licked him in the face, and the boy yelped with delight.

His mother looked out of the crew window, apparently wanting to make sure that everything was in order with the child. It was a beautiful dark-haired woman with green eyes, glowing with tenderness, when she turned them to her son.

"Stay right there, Charlie!" She cried to the boy. - Now I'm going out.

The woman turned away from the child and looked into the depths of the stroller, and then, apparently, with someone started talking. Meanwhile, the boy shifted from foot to foot, waiting for his mother.

"Mom," he finally broke down, "come quickly!"

Emma smiled, seeing his impatience - in childhood she was exactly the same.

- Now, fidget!

At that moment a spotted cat appeared nearby, and the puppy, having escaped from the hands of the child, chased after her with barking.

"Wellington!" - The boy immediately set off in pursuit of the puppy.

For a second Emma watched in horror as the hired crew rushes along the pavement straight to Charlie, then, throwing eggs, rushed across the road. Caught a few feet from the child, she made a last desperate move ...

Charlie cried out, not understanding why a strange woman jumped on him, and then landed next to him on the sidewalk.

Still not opening her eyes, Emma heard voices alarmed.

"Alex, dear one!" - Wailed the woman. "What a lucky thing this girl was! I should have been better looking after Charlie, and in general we should have stayed in a village where there was no such danger."

"Calm down, Sophie," a confident male voice protested to her. - It's not so bad. And stop wailing, or you'll scare this poor thing.

"Oh, yes, of course, you're right!" - Sophie agreed immediately, but after a few minutes she began to sob again.

"I can not believe that this happened." If Charlie was hurt, I would just be dead. Would have died!

The man answered with a sigh.

"Sophie, please calm down." Charlie's all right, he's got only a few scratches. We should watch it closely, that's all.

Emma moaned softly: her eyelids grew heavy, her mind was constantly buzzing.

"She seems to be coming to her senses?" Sophie suddenly asked. "Alex, I do not even know how to thank her." What a brave girl! Maybe I should hire her to work?

Alexander Edward Ridgely, Duke of Ashbourne, sighed again. His sister Sophie was always a talker, but it was especially evident when she was nervous.

"What's the matter, Mom?" Why are you crying? Charlie asked suddenly.

"Oh, my little one!" - Sophie again started to cheer, then she pressed the boy to her breast, closed her face in her hands and began to cover with sonorous kisses.

- Mama! Stop, you just slobbered me! Charlie tried to free himself from the grip of his mother's embrace, but Sophie tightened his grip on him, and finally he hissed,

- Mom, Uncle Alex decides that I'm a girl and a sissy!

"Nothing of the kind, Charlie!" - Alex chuckled. "Did not I promise to teach you how to play whist? You know that I do not play cards with girls."

Charlie nodded vigorously, after which Sophie suddenly released him from his arms.

"Are you going to teach my son to whist?" She asked, alternating words with loud sobs. "Really, Alex, he's only six years old!"

"We must learn from childhood, do not we?" What do you think, Charlie?

The boy answered with a big smile, showing the absence of many baby teeth.

Desperate to restrain her brother and son, Sophie sighed noisily:

"You are both real scoundrels!"

Alex grunted again.

"By the way, we're related."

- I know, I know. So all this is sadder. However, it's enough about the cards, it's time to take care of the poor girl. You think she's all right?

Alex took Emma's hand to check the pulse: it was flat and did not cause alarm.

- In my opinion, there is nothing to worry about.

Then Emma moaned softly.

"Thank God she's coming to life!"

"Why did she jump at me?" Charlie asked.

- Because the cab almost moved you. If this glorious lady was late, you could die.

The little mouth of Charlie formed in the letter "O".

"And I thought she was crazy."

Sophie threw up her hands in horror:

"No, she saved you, stupid!"

"Listen, Sophie," interrupted Alex's sister. - Why do not you go to the market and buy eggs to compensate this girl for loss?

Sophie was silent for a few moments, then said in confusion:

"Do you want me to buy eggs?"

As soon as Sophie presented this incredible picture, she almost laughed.

"I think buying eggs is not so difficult, dear, many people do it every day, and the market is only two blocks from here. Take my coachman, he will help you."

Sophie winced.

"I do not know if it's good to leave this girl in your care."

Alex laughed haughtily.

"She's just a servant, and no one will demand that I marry her." Besides, I'll be alone with her for five minutes. For God's sake go and buy those damn eggs."

Sophie was discouraged: she knew her brother too well to protest.

- Okay, I'm coming ...

"And take the boy with you!" Alex advised her. "Just look after him!"

Sophie took the baby by the hand.

"Listen, Charlie," she began to admonish her son, "you must first look in both directions and only then cross the road, that's how I am." Sophie stretched her neck and began to carefully examine the street.

Charlie laughed aloud, and Alex switched attention to an unfamiliar girl, stretched out on the seat cushions. To find such courage in a woman was not entirely familiar to him, but this mysterious stranger showed herself in the best possible way. Besides, she seemed quite attractive to him, although he did not know why the brave maid was not at all like the women he usually liked and with whom he was in touch: hardly at least one of them would risk his life to save Charlie. It's no wonder that this unusual girl so intrigued him. He even wanted to be alone with her at a time when she wakes up.

Falling to his knees beside Emma, Alex said affectionately:

- Come on, wake up, my love. He gently touched her temple's lips. - Open your eyes: I'm dying to know what color they are.

Feeling, as someone's big hand caressed her cheek, Emma moaned, and then the throbbing pain in my head suddenly began to wane.

She sighed with relief, and her eyelids fluttered, then her eyes slowly opened.

The bright sunlight pouring through the windows of the coach dazzled her.

- Ah! Emma closed her eyelids again.

"Are you concerned about the light?"

Alex instantly jumped up and drew the curtains on the coach windows.

Emma took a deep breath and, opening her eyes slightly, saw that the tanned face of the speaker was only inches from her face. A thick curl of black hair descended on his forehead, giving him an ucharian look.

Emma felt a sudden desire to reach out to those hair and find out how they felt.

The man gently touched her cheek.

"You know, you frightened us terribly, because you were unconscious for almost ten minutes."

Emma looked at him silently, unable to find the right words: he was too good-looking ...

"Can you speak, my joy?"

Emma's lips parted, allowing her to say just one word:

- Green.

"I was lucky," thought Alex. "The most beautiful servant in London is in my carriage, and she completely lost her mind."

Narrowing his eyes, he looked intently at her face, and then asked:

- What did you say?

"You have green eyes."

Her voice sounded dull: apparently, it was still difficult for her to speak.

- Yes I know. They are such a color from birth.

Emma squeezed her eyes shut again. God, did she say something out loud about his eyes? What an incredible stupidity! Of course, he knows what color they are, and the ladies vied with each other about his beautiful, captivating green eyes.

"Tell me your name."

"Um ..."

Emma coughed.

- Meg. My name is Meg.

"Nice to meet you, Meg." My name is Alexander Ridgely, but you can call me Alex or Eschborn, if you wish. So my friends call me.

- Why?

The question sounded before Emma could realize that she had asked him. It's unlikely that the kitchen maidens ask such questions.

"Because it's my title." I am the Duke of Ashbourne.

"You have an amusing reprimand, Meg." You, by chance, not from the colonies?

Emma made a face. The most disgusting and intolerable for her was to hear the English speaking scornfully of her country, calling her a colony.

"I'm from the United States of America," she said arrogantly, completely forgetting that she should behave like a maid. "We have been independent for decades, and we should not call ourselves your colony."

- Your truth. I must say, you are regaining your fighting spirit.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," Emma said quietly. "I should not have spoken to you in that tone."

- Come on, Meg, do not be modest. You are not a timid ten and you have the right to speak to me like that, because you saved my nephew's life.

Emma was puzzled. She completely forgot about the little boy.

"I hope he's okay?" She asked anxiously.

"It's all right, thanks to you. And here you are ..."

"Really, I feel quite good, and I think I have to go home."

Ashbourne stroked her cheek again, and when he touched her, there was not a single sound thought in Emma's mind. She gazed at his full lips, wondering if it was possible for them to cling to her lips.

Realizing how shameless her thoughts were, Emma flushed, and the duke's eyes immediately became troubled.

"Are you sure, dear, that you will not lose consciousness again?"

"I do not think you should call me 'darling."

"Oh, I think it should be."

"It's obscene."

"I seldom behave properly, Meg."

Emma did not have time to grasp this thought, as he had already hurried to show her how indecent she could behave. She sighed with a sob as his lips pressed against her lips. The kiss lasted only a moment, but it was long enough for the air to burst out of the lungs of Emma's lungs, and the whole body flooded unfamiliar sensations.

"These are the feelings that you still have to experience," he whispered passionately at her very lips, then lifted his head and looked into Emma's eyes.

Deciding that this was quite enough to begin with, the duke moved away from Emma and settled on the opposite seat. His breathing became intermittent and uneven: he could not remember when something similar happened in his life, when a single kiss would have affected him so much.

And yet, although the desire raged in his blood, he did not dare and did not even want to think about a possible continuation, fearing, however, would become worse.

Looking up, the duke noticed that Meg was looking at him attentively. Hell! She would probably have lost consciousness again if she could read his thoughts. He should not have gotten involved with a simple girl, who, by the way, is not more than sixteen, and who certainly goes to church on Sundays.