Benjamin let the kiss linger there for a moment, before he slowly began to move his lips against hers, asking for just slightly more without wanting to scare her away. She responded not with any sort of fear or hesitancy, but rather a wanting of her own. She breathed a soft sigh against his lips, which proved his undoing.

He put an arm around her to find a better angle, lifting her small frame effortlessly to sit her on his lap. His strong arm held her close, and she reached her hands up to tangle in his hair, pushing it back from his forehead.

He teased her lips with his tongue, and when she opened for him, he eased it into her soft mouth, stroking her lovingly. She kissed him back with equal measure, both shocking and pleasing him. His hands roamed over her sides, feeling the curves he knew would be there under that garish maid’s uniform. He broke from her lips, and was kissing his way down her neck when she gave a moan of pleasure, bringing him to his senses and breaking him from the spell.

He gently picked her up from his lap, setting her back down in her chair beside him. “I -- I apologize, Sarah, I should not have done that.”

“If apologizing must be done, then I believe I was equally at fault, my lord,” she said, looking up at him with a soft smile.

My lord. The address reminded him of the fact that he was taking advantage of a woman in his employ, one of the very things he had promised his father -- and himself -- he would not do. He was still drinking too much, taking liberties with a woman he should not have, and relying on said maid to make sense of his ledgers. He sighed. He was not making much progress.

“Are you happy with your work, Sarah?” he asked her as he stood abruptly and began pacing the room.

“Yes, my lord,” she responded with a nod, bemused.

“Do you feel it has been … appropriate for you to be working on the books of this estate?” he asked, though why he was asking the maid this, he had no idea.

“I confess from my knowledge it is highly irregular, my lord, but I do not see the harm in it,” she said, her level gaze open and questioning.

“Perhaps I can find a position for you besides a maid,” he said. “It seems a rather strange title for you considering you have scarcely undertaken any of the usual duties of a maid -- a bookkeeper perhaps? I shall have to think on it.”

She simply nodded her head. “I am happy with whatever you deem best my lord,” she said.

* * *

The conversation was somewhat strange, but Sophie had learned to expect the unexpected with Lord Harrington. Like that kiss. He had given her every opportunity to walk away from it, and yet she had wanted it -- craved it, even. When his face was just a breath away from hers, she could not help but lean in, to see what he tasted like. What they shared had left her breathless, and even now she was having difficulty concentrating on what he was saying.

“Have you anything to report on the accounts?” he asked, walking back over to his desk. “Anything I need to know about?”

Sophie paused for a moment, unsure of whether she should note the issue as of yet. “I am not quite sure, my lord.”

“That sounds ominous,” he commented, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Something wrong?”

Trying her best to explain without going into too much detail, Sophie gave a slight shake of her head. “There may be an issue, but I have yet to decide whether it is worth bringing it to your attention. It may simply be some poor accounting.”

His face lost its smile. “Well, do let me know whenever you decide, Sarah. I trust your judgement of course, but regardless I should like to know what has caused you to worry, even if it proves to be nothing.”

Sophie blinked, taken aback by his compliment. It was as if, just for a moment, he was speaking to her as though she were an equal in his eyes. There was a sudden, desperate urge to tell him the truth, but before she could even open her mouth, there came a scratch on the door. Sophie discreetly rose and returned to her desk in the corner, making herself nearly invisible.

“Yes?” Lord Harrington asked, as the butler walked in, a note in his hand.

“This just came for you, my lord.”

Sophie tried not to appear interested, remembering that she was not meant to be doing anything other than the accounts. She began to mentally calculate another equation, trying her best to ignore everything else.

“Ah, ‘tis nothing,” Lord Harrington muttered. “It is just Lord Dunstable. He is going to be a day later than he thought. Something about a relative of his.” He shrugged and discarded the note. “So it will just be Lord Haversham tomorrow, and Lord Dunstable the day after.”

The butler nodded, enquired as to whether his master needed anything else and, on being dismissed, closed the door behind him.

A drop of sweat fell from Sophie’s brow and landed on the parchment, blurring the ink. The moment she had heard Lord Harrington mutter her cousin’s name, she had turned into a terrified, frantic mess.

Her hands trembled so badly that she was forced to put down her quill, managing to somehow tip the inkwell. Ink spread all over the parchment she had been working on, although thankfully the accounts were not damaged. Managing to steady the inkwell, Sophie drew in a shaky breath and attempted to rise to her feet. Her legs had no strength as she struggled to stand, her hands clutching the sides of the desk.

“Excuse me, my lord,” she managed to say in a somewhat breathless voice. “I – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I…” She trailed off, gesturing at the spilt ink. “Let me get a rag.”

Lord Harrington did not seem in the least perturbed, simply shrugging as he rose to his feet. He picked up the parchment, skillfully managing not to drop a single spot of ink, and threw the entire thing in the fire.

“Nothing to worry about,” he said, cheerfully, as though everything was at right. “Just a few small splashes to clean up.” He walked back to sit at his desk, leaving her to clean up the remaining drops.

Sophie closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself. She simply had to get herself out of this room and away from him so that she might have a few moments in which to calm her mind. Her limbs were heavy, and her lack of strength made it difficult to even move them.

“Is everything quite all right?”

“Yes, yes,” Sophie murmured, trying and failing to put a smile on her face. “I am just a little embarrassed, that is all. Do excuse me.”

Lord Harrington regarded her for another moment before turning his attention back to his correspondence. Managing not to be sick, Sophie made her way to the door, her hand shaking so badly that she could barely grasp the door handle.

“Are you quite sure you are all right?”

Sophie could not look back at him, afraid she was going to burst into a flood of tears, from which could stem a great deal of confusion.

Tell him the truth.

Once again, the small, insistent voice in the back of her mind prodded her to do what she could, to beg him to save her from her cousin. Her hand slipped as she tried to turn the door handle, her palms too sweaty to grip it.

“Might I talk to you, my lord?” she whispered, wiping her hand on her dress as surreptitiously as she could. She managed to twist her head just enough to look back at him, seeing him study her with some concern.

“Yes, of course, Sarah,” he replied. “About the accounts, is it? Or is it about … what we shared?”

He still thought she was upset about either the kiss or what she had found and, at the present moment, she could not find the words to tell him anything else. Besides that, clearly he was good friends with Malcolm, having invited him to his home. Oh, what were the chances? Her heart was pained in her chest, her body still shaking with fear at seeing her cousin again. She could hardly speak as she told herself to breathe deeply. Stars spotted in her vision, warning her that she was close to fainting.

Finally, the door handle turned beneath her fingers. “The accounts,” she managed to say, quite flustered by now and simply needing to escape. “It can wait.”

“Later then,” he said, as though he were having quite an ordinary conversation, unable to see her distress for anything more than being puzzled about something in the accounts. “I am due to go out to visit my tenants this afternoon, so I shall speak to you later this evening.”

Sophie did not respond, even though she knew she ought to. She could not talk to him now, not when her mind was all of a muddle and her composure more than lacking. She would need to have a calm mind were she to tell him everything with clarity.

Managing to slip out of the door and shut it behind her, Sophie found strength from somewhere, forcing herself to move forward. She could not exactly collapse in a heap in the hallway, only to be found by Lord Harrington or one of the servants, who she was finally winning over with kindness. Get yourself together, girl, she told herself. Gritting her teeth and trying her best to control her shaking, Sophie forced her legs to move. They took her to the servants’ stairs and then down below into the kitchen where she finally felt safe. She collapsed at the table, putting her head on her arms and taking deep breaths. She steadied herself as she tried to determine whatever she was to do now.