“Oh, aye, ye might look shocked.” Janet sank onto the edge of the bed with a gusty sigh. “I near had heart failure when that lumbering ox drug me from my chamber and demanded that I purchase what you might have need of.”
Feeling as if she had just stepped into some French farce, Brianna struggled to make sense of her maid’s disjointed explanations.
“What lumbering ox?”
“Boris.” As Brianna continued to frown the maid gave an impatient shake of her head. “Ye must recall the servant who near tossed us out on our ears last eve?”
“Boris took you shopping?”
“That’s what I just said, is it not?”
“It is just that I cannot believe it.”
The maid doubled over in laughter. “Oh, lordy, it was a sight to behold, miss. Once I realized I was not being hauled off to have me throat slit or to be sold off to the slave-traders, I ’bout near split me gut watching the great hulk walking down Bond Street with a scowl on his face.” She paused to blot the tears of amusement streaming down her face.
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Brianna smiled, but she was far too unnerved to fully appreciate the humorous description.
“He must have been ordered by Edmond to take you to Bond Street,” she muttered. “But why the devil would the man give a fig about my wardrobe?”
Janet snorted. “Oh, aye, Boris would never have released me from my chamber, let alone step foot near that neighborhood, unless he was being forced.”
So why then had Edmond…she gasped as realization struck. Of course. He might not give a damn about Miss Brianna Quinn’s wardrobe, but he most certainly did care about his soon-to-be fiancée’s attire.
Which meant that he had sent her maid to begin her shopping long before Brianna had grudgingly agreed to his ridiculous charade of an engagement.
Spinning on her heel, Brianna strode toward the bay window that offered a stunning view of the nearby park.
“That man is the most arrogant, high-handed, aggravating creature ever born!”
“’Tis true enough that noblemen are rarely blessed with the wits God gave a flea, but it does seem to me that the man has treated ye well enough, miss,” Janet pointed out in a slow, cautious manner. “A sight better than we dared to hope for last eve, I would say.”
Brianna hunched her shoulders at the undeniable truth in her companion’s accusation. Pretending to be the next Duchess of Huntley was a considerable improvement over fighting off the advances of her disgusting stepfather.
Or even fleeing to the Continent with no set destination and no notion of how she was to survive.
That did not mean, however, she was not furious with Edmond and his determination to use her for his own mysterious purpose. Especially when it would be such a simple matter to take her to Stefan.
“I suppose,” she finally muttered.
Easily sensing Brianna’s tension, Janet moved to stand at her side, her expression concerned.
“What is it?” Her eyes abruptly widened. “Dear lord, did he force himself…”
“No. No, of course not. I may think Edmond the worse sort of scoundrel, but he would never rape a woman.” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “He would never have to.”
“True enough. They’re few women who wouldn’t want to welcome such a gent in their beds.” Janet heaved an appreciative sigh before a speculative glint entered her eyes. “Of course, he’s a mite too smooth for my taste. I prefer a man who’s a bit rough around the edges.”
It took a moment before Brianna realized that the maid was referring to Boris, a man definitely rough around the edges.
“Janet!” she breathed in shock.
“What?” The maid planted her hands on her hips. “He’s a handsome enough brute, and when he’s not stomping about breathing fire, he can be pleasant enough company. And if we’re to be stuck here for the next few weeks, there’s no reason not to have a little fun.”
Brianna grimaced, struggling not to allow her opinion of Edmond to rub off on poor Boris. It could be that, beneath his rather brutal facade, he was a lovely man. Not bloody likely, but possible.
“Oh, we are definitely stuck here, Janet. At least for the time being.”