Chapter Seven: Blood Moon by Rosaline Saul
WHEN MAGGIE WOKE up a week later, having battled through a fever, she was not even aware she had, she felt calmer and more composed, even if she still felt a little weak.
Her stepmother was being inexplicably attentive and poured her a bath. Maggie did not have the energy to wonder why.
Maggie took a long, scented soak in the warm tub. The fire in the open fireplace was roaring warmly to her side. Her room felt hot and snug.
She leant her head back, letting the nape of her neck rest on the rim of the tub. She smiled as she recalled many happy memories in this very same room. Memories which included her mother and her father. Never Cathy.
Maggie heard voices coming from the living area, and she was hoping to see her father. She was sure he was wondering why she arrived at home so unexpectedly, and she was eager to explain and to give them the money she had stowed away at the bottom of her suitcase.
Maggie got out of the tub and dried her body quickly with the coarse cloth. She decided to keep her city clothes packed away until she found a new post as a tutor, so she got dressed in a simple square-necked ankle-length dress with a fitted, lace bodice and full skirts. She had not worn the dress for the most part of a year now, and her bosom have become fuller. The laces did not tie up all the way they were supposed to, so she had to leave the top part untied. Luckily, the white smock underneath kept her modest. She pulled an apron over the top to keep the dress as clean as possible before she pulled the thick warm stockings up her legs. Maggie was expecting to do serious manual labour. Cathy would make sure she earned her keep.
As she walked out of her room into the large living area words of greeting were already forming on her lips, but then she saw Joseph sitting at the long wooden table in the centre of the room.
He saw her at once and stood up. He made a slight bow. There was a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes as he observed her shocked expression.
She wondered in outrage if he expected her to curtsy in return. She did not. At last, she found her voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Maggie,” Cathy said with reproach. “The Count has called to our humble home to make sure you returned safely from the city.” She bestowed him with a dazzling smile.
“I have apologised for intruding in this way, but I had to set my mind at ease,” Joseph Burke said smoothly. “You seemed upset when we parted on Monday.”
“Really? I was perfectly calm, thank you.”
“Yet, your step-mother tells me you were bedridden with a fever the entire week. I hope you are fully recovered.”
“It is from walking in the rain,” Maggie said shortly. Maggie wanted to leave the room, pretend he did not exist, but that would only embarrass Cathy and her father. She would just have to try to make the best of things. Be polite.
She moved around the table to sit at the opposite end, nearer to the open fireplace.
Joseph sat down on the wooden bench again with a faint, infuriating smile. He said, “Beatrice was sorry she could not thank you personally for your kind care of her.”
Maggie wanted to retort with something sarcastic, but she also did not want to earn herself future criticisms from Cathy for being discourteous. She cleared her throat. “How is Beatrice?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Not happy, but that is understandable.”
“Completely,” Maggie emphasised.
“She is young,” he continued. “She will get over it and I intend to make every effort to see that she does. At the moment, her social contacts are limited, especially when I am working. That is another reason for my visit. I hope you and your family will be our guests for dinner at the Manor Burke tomorrow evening.”
“And I told the Count we will be delighted,” Cathy gushed.
Maggie looked up at Cathy where she was still standing. Cathy was naive enough to believe rich people, especially of aristocratic standing, would want to socialise with the common folk. Granted, within the middle-class circles their family was respected and reputable because they were educated, but there were limits to their social standing. Why would this oaf invite them to his house? It would be nothing but an insult. Joseph should also know she would rather want to be burned at the stake than go to his house for dinner. Maggie wondered if she could have a fever relapse.
He turned his attention back to Cathy, whom he treated with charm bordering dangerously on flirtation.
Cathy, of course, was enjoying the attention.
Maggie sat staring down at the grain in the wood of the wooden table, holding tightly onto the edge of the bench she was sitting on. She felt frightened again. She believed he was not for one moment remotely concerned with her well-being. There was something else going on here. Something warned her that behind his smile and the smooth elegance there was a malice. Beyond that, there lurked pure evil.
Joseph lifted himself from his seat. “I must get back.” His regret almost sounded real. “But I shall look forward to welcoming yourself, your husband, and Maggie to my home tomorrow evening.”
Aghast Maggie watched as he took Cathy's hand and raised it to his lips. “Until then,” he said.
Cathy curtsied. “Thank you again for the invitation, Count Burke.”
He nodded his head.
Turning in Maggie's direction he looked down at her still seated at the table. “May I have a private word? You could accompany me outside.”
With silent indignation, Maggie stood up from her seat.
At the door, he stood aside so that she could walk out of the house ahead of him.
When they walked out of the house together, into the refreshing sunshine, she asked immediately, “What is going on? What do you want?”
He said slowly, “I am not quite sure I have decided what I want, but when I have, Maggie, you will be the first to know.” He glanced back at the house across his shoulder. Cathy was not standing in the doorway and she had closed the door after they left the house. “Now, greet me nicely.” He took a step closer to her, bending down toward her, his eyes travelling from her shocked eyes to her full lips.
“No,” she whispered.
He chuckled softly as he lifted his hand and touched her cheek. With his thumb, he traced a line down her throat.
She shivered.
His fingers reached the neckline of her smock and hooked under it, urging the material off her shoulder. She felt his warm breath on her skin, then the soft brush of his lips. “Until tomorrow evening.”
Before Maggie could move or speak, Joseph turned away abruptly and walked along the narrow pathway between the house and the road in front of the house. Wild grass and flowers swayed in the gentle breeze he was creating. He gracefully climbed onto his horse and rode away without once glancing back in her direction.
Maggie stood with her arms wrapped around her body protectively. He had barely touched her, yet it felt as if he had scorched her from the inside out.
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