Chapter Three

B roderick submerged his body fully into the pond. Holding his breath, he hoped the water would not take away his new hair color. The old widow, Mrs. Baker, had changed his hair color to brown and even given him a cut. Gratefully, he had walked out of her house looking like a new man. Now, if he could just keep away from large crowds, all would be well in his world. At least for a few months. He prayed things would get back to normal soon after that.

During his much-needed break, he didn't want to think about the problems in his life. He didn't want to have to constantly look over his shoulder and wonder who was a spy—and especially who might know his true identity. Unfortunately, he couldn't relax now. Not since he knew the niece of the wretched lord chancellor was visiting the Cramptons.

Before the air in his lungs ran out, he rose out of the water and breathed deeply. He swiped his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back on his head and out of his eyes. Wiping the excess water from his face, he blinked and focused on his surroundings. His uncle's country estate was the perfect place for his sanctuary, and during the next few weeks, he would take advantage of what the property had to offer, which at the moment was peace and solitude.

Sometime while he was here, he would also get to know Lady Sarah a little better as well. He couldn't really blame her for what her foolish uncle had done, but he would definitely become close to her to see if she knew about the man's plans, because Broderick would surely put a stop to them. The man needed his title removed, and soon.

Taking the brick of soap, he scrubbed it over his face. Within seconds, his eyes began to sting. He cursed, tossed the soap on the grass, and then splashed water on his face, but his eyes still stung and blurred.

The rustle of bushes and snaps of twigs pulled his thoughts away, and he swung around to face the intruder. Ready to give them a sound thrashing, he scowled when his vision didn't quite cooperate. Through his impaired vision, it looked like someone was peeking through the bushes.

The burning sensation in his eyes only intensified. "Please, I need your help. If you will, I need you to bring me that towel over there."

When the person didn't move and continued to stare, irritation flowed through him. "Are you going to stand and ogle my body, or can you hand me that towel?" He pointed to the rock where he had left the towel.

Finally, the person moved out from the bushes, heading for the rock. Broderick splashed his eyes with water again and rubbed them harder.

"Actually," the stranger said, "I thought ogling your body would help pass the time on this dreary day."

Stunned, Broderick exhaled sharply. Words vanished from his mind, and he blinked, trying to focus. The blur finally formed into a person… a woman with her hair wound tight on the top of her head and who appeared to be wearing a baggy dress.

Embarrassment washed over him quicker than the cool water had a few moments ago. What was a woman doing peeking at him while he bathed? Unless… He had known the younger widow from his uncle's neighboring property, and she was always a little forward. Perhaps it was Mrs. Fisher. Inwardly, he groaned. Now was not the time to try to fight off her advances.

"Thank you for your assistance," he said, "but if you were planning on joining me, let me assure you, I'm nearly finished, so your trip here was wasted."

A gasp came from the woman, and her mouth hung open. She lifted the towel from off the rock and stepped closer.

"First off, let me say I'm appalled by your rude behavior from a man who—not more than two seconds ago—asked for my help. Lastly, I don't know who you think I am, but I had no plans on joining your bath."

The voice was definitely not Mrs. Fisher's. Mortification expanded inside him. For the first time in his life, he was rendered speechless.

Quickly, he splashed his eyes with water one last time and rubbed them before focusing on his intruder once again. This time he could see the woman as clear as day. And sure enough, this was definitely not Mrs. Fisher, but a much younger woman. He didn't know who she was, but she was in dire need of a more experienced seamstress. She wore men's trousers and shirt but had on women's boots. And her hair flowed gently over her shoulders and down her back.

He studied her face as she stepped closer to the edge of the pond holding the towel. Now he could see the gentle curves of her cheeks and lips. Long eyelashes framed her eyes. Although her face was pretty, her hair and dress did not fit her loveliness.

Broderick shook his head. "Forgive me for not noticing you at first. I had soap in my eyes and couldn't see clearly. And I apologize for thinking you were someone else."

"Oh. Well then, since you thought I was someone else, you are forgiven for being so rude."

She was forgiving him? When she was the one spying on his bath? Obviously, she wasn't as innocent as she appeared. "Who are you, and where are you from? Did you know you are trespassing on another man's land?"

Instead of the panic he figured to see on her expression, she arched one of her eyebrows. "I have been invited here, but you, sir, have not. I have met everyone who lives and works on this estate, and you are not one of them. Perhaps you are trespassing."

Confusion filled his head. Was she one of his uncle's servants? But she didn't look like any servant he had met before. And why was the woman dressed in men's clothes?

"No, I'm not trespassing." Still in the water, Broderick walked toward her. Just before reaching the point where the water lowered on his body, he stopped. Why did she continue to stare? She didn't have that experienced expression on her face. Indeed, this woman was innocent, so then why was she still watching him? "Are you going to turn and hide your eyes, or are you used to seeing a man's nakedness?"

Her cheeks flared a bright red mere seconds before she spun around. "Forgive me. I hadn't realized… I mean, I had forgotten…"

Chuckling, he walked out of the water and stood behind her, taking the towel from her hand. "Nonetheless, I thank you for retrieving the towel for me," he whispered in her ear.

A shiver shook her body, but she stayed rigid and faced the other way. "Sir, you still haven't told me who you are."

He wrapped the towel around his waist and tucked it in the edges. "And you, my little confused woman, haven't introduced yourself either, so I assume we are at a standstill."

"Confused?" she shrieked.

Huffing, she spun around and faced him. Fire nearly shot out from her heated gaze as she lifted her eyes and met his. Being a head and a half taller, he hadn't realized until now how tiny she was. Another thing he hadn't noticed until now was her astonishingly lovely blue eyes—a much darker shade than he had ever seen before.

A small gasp came from her as her eyes widened. "Actually, I believe we have met after all. You are Mr. Worthington, the man who rescued Lady Sarah and myself from the overturned coach."

It was Broderick's turn to inhale a surprised breath. This was Lady Sarah's companion? Good heavens! "Forgive me for not recognizing you, then. You looked different without all that mud covering you—and without a dress."

She shrugged. "It's surprising what a little bath will do." She motioned toward the pond. "As I'm sure you have already guessed."

He chuckled. "Indeed, I have. But now I'm curious to know why you are still standing here talking to a mostly naked man. Most women I know would have run like the devil was on their heels from seeing a man take a bath. Yet here you are, still in front of me."

Although her cheeks continued to glow with embarrassment, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin as if to challenge him.

"I hate to disillusion you, Mr. Worthington, but I'm not like most women."

"Do lady's companions usually act this way in Manchester?"

"Not many." She shook her head. "But Lady Sarah understands me well and allows it."

He nodded. "Then forgive me for scolding you. It was not my place."

"So, Mr. Worthington, you still haven't told me why you are here on Mr. and Mrs. Crampton's property."

He couldn't believe how surprised he was at this whole situation—almost speechless, which wasn't like him. Strange to think he was still mostly naked, and yet the young lady continued to make polite conversation as if they were at a dinner social.

Shaking his head, he tried not to laugh at her. "I'm visiting my uncle for a spell. Henry Crampton is my mother's brother."

She smiled. "How nice, Mr. Worthington." She scrunched her forehead. "By chance, do I need to address you differently? Are you a lord?"

Not unless his noble relatives had all died… Broderick laughed. "Miss Emmie, you can call me Broderick or Mr. Worthington, either one."

She smiled. "It is very nice to see you again, Mr. Worthington."

He grinned at her stubbornness, and a thought struck him. "Pray, what is a lady's companion doing traipsing throughout the countryside dressed like a man, and by herself, instead of tending to the earl's daughter?"

Smugly, she arched an eyebrow again. "As I mentioned previously, Lady Sarah understands me and treats me differently than most servants. When I'm not tending to Lady Sarah's needs, I am free to dress this way and ride my horse or walk around the grounds. Besides that, a lady's companion doesn't need a chaperone constantly, especially when she is with your aunt and uncle right now."

"You are correct, of course."

An uncomfortable silence hung between them, and she shifted her feet as her gaze moved around the secluded area. He found it strange that he didn't want to talk. Looking at her was fulfilling enough. He enjoyed the way the men's clothes nearly clung to her woman's curves. She was anything but plain. She was quite lovely, in fact.

"Oh, Mr. Worthington, I must ask… Did you discover what happened to my—er, Lady Sarah's driver?"

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, I haven't heard. I summoned the authorities, as promised, but I haven't heard what happened. I told them Lady Sarah was staying with my aunt and uncle, so I suspect if the authorities find anything out about your driver, they will let Lady Sarah know."

"Well, I thank you again for your help in the matter." She offered a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "As much as I would like to stay and chat, my time is about up. I should return to the house. Lady Sarah might need me soon."

"As you wish. I trust we shall see each other later."

She nodded. "I'm certain you will."

"Good day, Miss Emmie."

"And good day to you, Mr. Worthington."

As she walked away, he grinned. Although he hated to admit it, he quite enjoyed their little interlude, even if he was half-naked. Now he wondered if she'd even realized it at all. Yet her blush from time to time proved that she did indeed know but had tried to be proper about it.

Broderick retrieved his clothes and chuckled. Miss Emmie was certainly different, and he looked forward to visiting with her again.

What was he thinking? It should be Lady Sarah he needed to get to know—not her companion. Then again, this particular lady's companion showed promise of fun-filled days ahead.

*

Emmie stood behind Anna, helping her prepare for the Cramptons' ball that evening. Although a maid should be fixing Anna's hair, Emmie didn't mind the task, only because she wanted Anna to look her part.

Anna wrung her hands against her middle, and in the reflection in the mirror, Emmie noticed the lines of worry etched on her face. "Mr. and Mrs. Crampton are going to introduce me to their family and friends. Are you certain your father doesn't know anybody besides the Cramptons?"

Emmie weaved a pink ribbon through Anna's dark hair and artfully pulled back the sides with pearl-studded combs to complete the ensemble. "I wish I could tell you, Anna. My father doesn't speak of everyone he knows. He met my mother on a visit to York, and I think her death hurt him so much he doesn't want to talk about that time in his life."

"Oh, forgive me, Lady Sarah. I didn't even think of that."

"Shh… I'm Emmie now, remember that," she reminded Anna.

"My apologies, Lady—eh, I mean Emmie." Anna sighed heavily. "What am I going to do if someone realizes I don't look like your father?"

Emmie snorted a laugh as she met her friend's gaze in the mirror. Sometimes the maid could be so obtuse. "Anna, I don't even resemble my father. I take more after my mother, but you look enough like me that you fit the part."

Anna relaxed. "Forgive me for being so jumpy. I suppose I'm a little nervous about tonight. I don't want to muck things up."

Emmie added the finishing touches to Anna's hair by pulling the ringlets down evenly. "You will do fine. You have given a splendid performance thus far. Mr. and Mrs. Crampton don't suspect a thing, and Mr. Crampton was very close to my father."

Anna nodded. "You're right as always, my lady."

"Anna!" Emmie said in a whisper. "You must not call me that. No one must know of our charade. I don't even want the servants to overhear. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Anna answered softly.

After finishing Anna's hair, Emmie helped her friend brush the gown to free it from the few wrinkles it had gathered. This pink ball dress of Emmie's had always been one of her favorites. The silk sensation had a deep v-cut in the bodice, which she thought made her chest look fuller. Of course, the slim waist and the billowy sleeves of white lace had always made her look elegant. But now, as a different woman was wearing it, it disappointed Emmie a little, because the dress actually looked better on her friend.

She tried not to think about all the parties and functions Anna had been invited to while they were visiting. Emmie would have to stand back and watch her friend be swept away by men on the dance floor. Then again, this could be a good thing. Emmie wouldn't have to hear their lies when they promised her the moon and stars on a silver platter. She wouldn't have people bowing and curtsying every time she walked by, and they wouldn't treat her as if she was precious glass just because her father was the earl. She reminded herself again that the disguise as a lady's companion couldn't be more perfect.

Anna picked out one of the fancier dresses for Emiline to wear tonight. The shimmering gray material was pretty, but just like the dress she had worn earlier, this one practically hung on her. The modest high-neck collar with white lace and long sleeves didn't enhance any part of her body. The color even made her face pale, and her eyes bug out. Then again, the way she wound her hair so tight, that could be the reason her eyes looked funny.

Emmie and Anna left the bedroom together. When they reached the ballroom, Emmie stopped and tapped Anna on the arm. "You shall do fine. Just remember… you are me," she whispered.

Holding her head high, Anna entered the ballroom as Emmie followed. She tried her best not to let anyone really look at her, and thankfully, their eyes were on Anna—who soaked up the attention well. Many people filled the ballroom and greeted Lady Sarah with bows and curtsies. Emmie smiled, knowing Anna had turned out a great performance.

This time…