Page 57 of Desperately Seeking Seduction

She looked at the older woman. “It wasn’t right what he was doing to you. I had to stop him.”

“I know, lovey,” she replied, cupping Winston’s jaw. Her thumb dragged over Winston’s smooth cheek…and her eyes slowly widened. “No,” she whispered.

Winston squirmed in her chair as the woman continued to stroke her smooth skin. But then a smile broke over her face and she began to chortle. “Well, I never! Handed his hat by a slip of…” She nodded. “By a slip of a lad no higher than me.”

Winston gulped. Now someone else knew her secret. And that was two too many.

The butler strode into the kitchen next, carrying her satchel. He threw it at her. “You are dismissed, Mr. Winston, without pay. I do not condone fighting among the servants and you have no place here anymore.”

“I can’t believe Lord Stratford would fire him over such a little scuffle?”

“Philips has been given his marching orders too,” Seymour promised. “There are plenty of footmen better suited to holding such an important position.”

Winston stood, entirely satisfied with an outcome that would protect all the women of the palace.

She nodded in Cook’s general direction and swaggered out of the kitchen, bursting into the fresh air of the kitchen garden. Relief and sadness warred for dominance in her thoughts, however. She was leaving her friend, her lover, and her father, too, without a word of goodbye to either one now. They would never know the truth of this day, and there was nothing she could do about that.

A pair of guests were milling about in the garden, and although she meant to skirt by them quickly, they called out to her to halt. Winston pivoted slowly and saw a woman rushing toward her.

“Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“To make a hasty escape before anyone gets a better look at your face or figure.”

She looked the woman over as she extended her hand.

“I’m Mrs. Amity Crawford. The duke’s cousin. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Why?”

The woman drew closer and lowered her voice. “Making love in the outdoors is a particular favorite pastime of ours, too,” she murmured, blushing slightly.

Winston closed her eyes. “I wasn’t…”

“Oh, you were indeed,” Mrs. Crawford corrected, laughing as her husband joined them. “Come along. Time to leave.”

Puzzled, Winston followed them to a carriage that had been stopped just outside the walled kitchen garden gate. She reasoned she was leaving anyway and could always ask them to let her out at the end of the long drive.

Mr. Crawford handed his wife inside and then turned to Winston. “I’d offer you the same courtesy if I could.”

Winston nodded and scrambled in after him to take a place on the bench seat facing the pair. It was a rich man’s carriage, and plush velvet cushions were soft under her fingers.

Mrs. Crawford sat primly, smoothing her skirts and smiling at her. “Are you in very much pain?”

Winston raised her fingers to her jaw and pushed gently. “Not at the moment.”

“It could hurt more later,” Crawford warned.

“Yes, I imagine so.”

Mrs. Crawford caught her eye. “The man you fought with works for my older brother. Would you please tell me what caused you to provoke him?”

Crawford leaned forward. “The better question to ask is, where a woman learned to fight so well,” he said, a slow smile spreading over his face. “I was sure you were done for.”

“My father taught me,” Winston said, deciding she could safely say that much about her past. “Philips was pressuring one of the female servants for things he shouldn’t ask for. I didn’t like it, so I challenged him.”

“That was very brave of you,” Mrs. Crawford murmured. “Given everything.”