Mina shuffled as quietly as she could along the thick Aubusson runner but soon realised that in the short interim between putting on clean shoes and leaving the kitchens she had managed to step in soot and was now leaving a noticeable stain in her wake. Discreetly she took one step to the side and continued walking on the marble tiles near the wall...at least those were easier to clean. The silverware rattled against the tray as a none too subtle reminder of her nerves. She was not a silly young girl but even with all her defiance and feigned confidence she had to admit she was not prepared to serve dinner to the Duke and his family. She was so nervous she could have eaten the entire pudding that she carried, and that would be a very poor start to the evening. Trust Verushka to get them knee deep in horseshit but here they were- together, a team, as it should be.

Mina's life had not been the ease that Verushka's had. Yes, Mina was poor now, but she had started off even poorer; working for a family that had little to eat themselves and even less to give the maid. She supposed it was better than the orphanage where Liara grew up but even Liara had managed to make something of herself. She could still remember taking out the rubbish to the darkened alley in the back streets of Chapel lane, a less Christian area than it sounded. There was Liara huddled next to a fire barrel for warmth as she and some other urchins attempted to learn French from a book more likely fleeced than borrowed from the Governess Academy nearby. Mina had tried to conceal herself but Liara's band of renegade orphans had pulled her from her crevice and threatened her with short steel pipe. Brandishing the one French word she knew, Mina's 'bonjour' saw her welcomed into their weekly meetings. Sure, her French was still dismal, but she really only went for the company and the crusts of bread handed out like slivers of gold. And here she was now walking through corridors of marble carrying trays of silver laden with thick hearty soups and pudding in dishes of gold. This was a moment to remember.

Unfortunately some cruel twist of fate left a crease in the Persian rug Mina was crossing. She wasn't particularly clumsy but the word clutzy had been bandied about from time to time. Mina was always the girl to be running late to things, to mix up her vocabulary so that the sentence she produced was only mildly recognisable to the one she intended, and her feet would mysteriously trip over thin air at the most inappropriate times. So today, of all days when her job and the roof over her head was most likely hanging in the balance, she fell head first to greet floor.

"Oh my god, what a complete head case" Liara grinned over her shoulder.

"Mmphh pmmfh rrm" Mina muffled into the carpet

Verushka stopped and turned back to help her friend to her feet. Liara just shook her head and watched while tapped her foot impatiently looking toward the dining hall.

"It's okay," Verushka commented, "You didn't drop much, just spilled a little pudding on the rug, but the soup looks mostly intact."

Mina shook her head "I knew something would go wrong, I just knew it!"

"Hey, don't talk like that," Verushka countered sternly as she piled the dishes back on the tray.

Mina hmmphed and rolled her eyes but brushed off her apron and took Verushka's offered hand to stand back up. However, Mina being Mina, her hand eye coordination wasn't quite what it should be and instead she leaned on the already precarious tray for balance and with the result both ended up on the floor again.

"Oh my god!" Mel complained.

"Hey! shut it!" Liara cursed at the new girl then turned back to Mina and continued, "but seriously Mina, butter fingers much?"

"Oh dear...." Verushka's brow furrowed. "You'll have to go back to the kitchens now to at least change your apron and get some more stew."

Mina just moaned into the carpet again. A moment passed with Mels' cursed breathing irritating Liara to within an inch of sanity, then Mina slowly rose to her knees and looked at the mess. Stew was now soaking into the rug she had so admired, the pudding had flipped over and hit the floor mostly intact although a small chunk was missing and she thought she felt it dripping off her left shoulder.

"Okay," she finally spoke with depressed reticence "Go on without me. I'll just get cleaned up and if Madam Shiela doesn't tan my hide I'll be back to help as soon as I can."

"Finally!" Mel commented "Let's go, let's go. I mean, I'm sorry and all, but we HAVE to keep moving"

Liara deadpanned on the serving girl, "You know you really need to shut up"

Mels' eyes went wide. Verushka quickly stepped into the breach, "Let's just calm down. Mina is going back and we are going to press on. And Liara be careful of what you say because sometimes people who don't know you will think you don't like them."

Even Mina snickered at that comment, which considering her current predicament meant that it was pretty damn funny.

Liara smiled widely at Mel with a certain glint in her eye. "Well, we can't have that, by all means Melissa, lead the way."

"Try not to stab her in the back," Mina called out quietly to Liara as the three girls started forward again.

Liara, at the back of the line, just looked back over her shoulder and winked at her friend on the floor.

Mina laughed a little under her breath and then sobered as she saw the floor with its myriad of accruements again.

"Stupid, stupid Mina." she chastised herself as she started to scrape pudding off the floor. "You're always so clutzy...why can't you just walk in a straight line from point A to point B?? Why , WHY??"

"Well, where would be the fun in that?" came a familiar humorous drawl from behind her.

Mina tensed.

Horseshit

She turned slowly, hesitantly; praying that she was going stark raving mad like Ol'Henry the Gardener who heard voices all the day long. Mina held her breath, squinted her eyes and looked toward the voice.

No such luck as Henry - damn.

She let out her breath in a whoosh of air as her heart kicked into a stampede of horses. Not just regular horses...no stallions...the ones at.. what was that place where they raced? Ah, yes, Ascots! Her heart beat was like a dozen of those horses stampeding across the track. There he was leaning against the edge of an open doorway- the man from the street- smiling at her with that, oh so mysterious smile of his. His boots were a supple black leather encasing his calves, his pants were a deep graphite that stretched perfectly around each thigh while his waistcoat was a beautiful dusty white like flour before it's baked. His clothes weren't just clothes, they were artwork and she could sketch him all day. They sculpted his body perfectly, and over it all he wore an ashen dinner coat with tails that matched the cravat at his throat. And then she met his eyes which were the lightest of greys, rimmed with silver and twinkling with amusement.

Wow, she thought.

"Wow, indeed" he answered

Mina's jaw dropped. Surely she hadn't just said that, but by the 'cat that ate the cream' smile on his face, of course she did. And she had just ogled him, from his boots to that slightly ruffled head of hair that was the only thing out of place in his whole outfit. But it was so him... she didn't know how she knew that, but she did.

"So...," he licked his lips, "what do we have here?" He walked forward with precision, like every step he took was carefully calculated, then crouched down to eye level on the floor. "Why is it that every time I see you, you are covered in food?"

Mina's instant attraction fell back as natural male aggression took its well kept place. "Hey! That's not true and I just fell. You could at least help me!" Somewhere in the back of her mind she realised she had just demanded a line of nobility get on the floor and scrape stew from the rug, but Mina never let a little thing like that stop her. "And you shouldn't creep up on people, it's not polite," she continued.

Jay smiled as he carefully picked up a silver serving bowl and placed it on the tray. "I'm sorry, did I frighten you?" He looked straight into her eyes.

"No!" Mina replied a touch too emphatically, then quickly started to fill the tray again.

~

Jay watched her try to pull together her wits but he had also noticed her staring at him with the same look most widows in London gave him when they heard the gossip about his alleged prowess in bed. It hadn't really mattered to him before, except as a minor diversion to pass the time, and yet when this young maid looked at him it made him feel...special, confident, strong. For a man such as he who had travelled all over the country and beyond, managing a spy network for the Home Office, he was not shy to admit he had had several liaisons over the years and a number of woman fawn over his strength as 'Agent Zay' slipped discreetly in and out of town. But it never felt the same, they fell in love with a ghost and in London they fell into bed with an image. This little woman who seemed to always be in the wrong place at the wrong time would not care who he was. He could be the King of England or the chimney sweep and she would still treat him just the same. That thought was comforting and intriguing at the same time.

When he stepped into the hall after finally escaping the Dowager Duchess, he had every intention of moving swiftly to the library. He had an appointment with a glass of whisky and a book in his friends favourite leather chair, but then he saw her. She was crawling around on all fours showing off her bottom to anyone who wished to look. And, of course he looked, he was a man after all. But then he heard her familiar voice, it was light, high, with a generous dose of resin and a sliver of steel; and she was berating herself. He never forgot a voice, or a face and especially not hers with her dark eyes that flashed with every emotion so freely. So he stopped, watched and engaged.

He didn't regret the distraction as he continued to observe her now muttering to herself as she cleaned the floor. He wondered how she would react if he kissed her. Wonder soon turned into postulation, then postulation into planning, then planning into action and reached out his hand into that intimate space where they sat on the rug and touched her chin with his fingertips.

She looked up at him sharply and froze, then he felt her tremble beneath his touch and he knew he had to finish what he started. He leaned towards her an inch at a time, slow and steady watching her eyes widen, gauging her response.

Honed senses of a spy caught the sound of bustling movement to his right and his concentration broke. Women rustling with long skirts were headed their way, he could even make out the tinkling of jewellery and the faintest whiffs of their cloying Parisian perfumes. The maid would hear them soon and then this moment would stop. In a manoeuvre he usually reserved to assess tactics in combat, he considered his predicament then plotted his escape. He grabbed the tray in one hand and rose pulling her up with him. 

"Let's move" he ordered

She blinked... twice.

"Someone's coming, you're going to get into trouble for this," he gestured to the mess on the floor, "so move!"

Mina just frowned at him. "What? there's no one coming" she looked around then faced him again with an annoyed expression.

He watched realisation finally dawn on her face then horror as she heard the women moving down the hall. He grabbed her arm and hauled her across to the double glass doors that opened out into the garden. Pushing her firmly but gently through to the crisp air outside, he drew the heavy curtains and shut the door with a quiet click. They both hovered close to a Grecian pillar holding their breaths as he tracked the shadows beyond the curtain till they were out of view. Jay listened to Mina release a puff of warm air against the back of his neck. He smiled, then turned to her. They were alone, at last.

*****

Cain entered the Dining hall and even he had to admit his mother had outdone herself. The long table filled the centre of the room framed by candelabras and footmen at each corner. It was draped in creamy white linen and set with plates of the finest porcelain and crystal glasses glinting in the soft light. Large bay windows lined the entire opposing wall and the view of the gardens that stretched beyond were magnificent in the moonlight. As Cain dutifully seated his mother at the head of the table, a place he gladly relinquished to her though it was his own, he caught the smell of jasmine in the air. Ah, the servants had even brought in ornate pottery overflowing with jasmine flowers to surround the dining hall and add their subtle fragrance to the evening. Personally Cain preferred the smell of musk and a touch of spice but for this evening, and for his mother- the jasmine was perfect.

Cain slipped into the cushioned seat to the right and prepared himself mentally as he took stock of his carefully devised dinner companions. To his right was the Countess De Mornay, her beauty was surpassed only by her reputation. Although reportedly as flexible and adventurous as a London brothel Madame and as wealthy, her husbands' had a tendency to end up dead. Unfortunately Cain's dearest mother was not privy to the talk at Whites and had made an incalculable mistake in her seating arrangements. So while Cain could appreciate the soft alabaster skin of her cheek and neck as she ran her oval fingertips delicately over them, he girded his loins and looked across the table to his other entertainment for the evening.

"Good evening Cain," a dusky brunette whispered huskily across the place setting. Leaning forward slightly she let a thick curl of chocolate coloured hair tumble over her shoulder framing her ample bosom. With a self deprecating shift of her eyes and a slight smile she lightly touched slim fingertips to the gentle curve of her lips in error and repeated, "Good evening, Your Grace. I'm so sorry for my presumption my lord."

Cain cocked his head slightly observing her and almost dismissed her attempts at seduction, but then he caught her eyes. They weren't jaded, and they weren't lying; they were open and sincere. "No such apologies are necessary." He heard himself say. "Please, call me Cain".

The Dowager Duchess who had been conversing with a serving boy turned her attention back to the table and smiled with a sly lilt, "Ah, Cain I'm glad you two are getting acquainted. This is Maria, Lady Maria Saffron from Yorkshire. Her cousins are The Waverley's. You remember them don't you?"

The wheels turned rusty cogs in Cain's vault of London society trying to dredge up a recollection but nothing came to mind. So of course he nodded anyway and smiled, "Its lovely to meet you again."

Her laugh was lovely, soft and feminine, "We have never actually met Your Grace. But thank you for trying to make me feel better about using your Christian name."

"Well, what is it there for if not to be used?" Cain mocked lightly

"Yes, and can you believe that all the time he was in Rome he allowed them to call him Scot?" The Duchess interjected.

Maria's eyes lit up with mirth, "Why ever would you do that?"

Cain heard his mother respond to her enquiry and their amiable chatter became nothing but white noise because the entree bell had been rung and behind this elegant, refined, luscious Lady Maria stood his Goddess and pantry maid- Verushka. He stared at her because he couldn't not stare at her. She was pretty, fresh, rosy and nervous... very nervous. Twisting the ribbons on the end of her apron round and round her fingertips; she only stopped when another maid, one whom he had seen before in the street, gave her a semi-stern look. Then she bit her full lower lip and stopped.

She caught his eye and hers widened. Cain winked and watched her eyes grow even wider.

"Cain," The Dowager Duchess shot the name out like a warning. "Did you just wink at that serving girl?"

Cain took a deep breath and tore his eyes away from Verushka. "No Mother, I simply have some dust in my eye. Why ever would I wink at the help?" And with that he started to blink his left eye profusely in an attempt to clear away some phantom piece of lint.

His mother tried to stare him out, and of course she won because he was too busy blinking anyway to match her stare for stare. When she seemed to tire of his ruse and returned to her conversation with Maria and the Viscount Devon, he stole another glance at Verushka. She stood just behind Lady Maria, and there she would continue to stand and intrigue him for the rest of the meal. Her remarkable round eyes were firmly fixed on the floor, as she chewed on her lower lip with unease.

Cain ate his gourmet French onion and basil soup with aching deliberation as he studied the maid. She was dressed in his households' finest livery; polished black boots with a burgundy dress of cotton that fell to her ankles. The standard square neckline left a lot to be desired but its white apron with silver and gold filigree trim cinched her small waist accentuating its curves. Her hair was no longer flowing wildly in the wind as it had been that morning, instead it was pinned back and tucked up beneath a black plain maids cap. He wondered if it bothered her to have to tie back a mane she obviously was used to leaving open and free. Cain saw her discreetly raise her left hand and worm a finger beneath the edge of the cap to scratch indelicately underneath. Haha, there was one question answered. The soup was almost finished as Cain allowed his mind to drift to the thought of removing her cap and feeling the soft strands of her auburn hair slipping through his fingers. He could sense his grasp of the dinner conversation also slipping and curtailed his thoughts to safer pastures. As entertaining as is would be to imagine a liaison with his maid from the scent of her skin, right down to the look on her face as she lay in his bed, Cain knew more was expected from him at dinner than the occasional moan. Pity.

Maria commented on her need for the next course of quail and Cain watched Verushka jump start into motion and serve as was required. He smiled; he had just found a new way to entertain himself.

As the serving lad behind him cleared away the first course dishes in what was most likely a seven course epic event, Cain reclined in his chair. "Lady Maria, have you ever tried Italian wine aged to perfection from the finest grapes in Roma?"

Maria's eyes shone as she shook her head elegantly. "No, my Lord, I cannot say that I have. I hope you are not just teasing me as I should like to taste such a fine wine."

Cain rose to his feet and strode the short distance around the table to the lady's side. He had watched the Head Butler push a bottle of Frascati '24 into Verushka's bewildered hands and moved to intercept. In the corner of his eye he caught his mothers shrewd gaze but it was not enough to abandon his plan. Straightening the left cuff of his evening shirt he threw a napkin over the sleeve and deftly plucked the bottle from the maids hands. He was careful not to touch her inadvertently, because when he did, he wanted her to be fully aware of the intimate gesture.

"My lady, shall I pour?" Cain stepped to Maria's side taking Verushka's place playing up the role of serving boy to the hilt. He flashed a charming smile to Lady Maria as a steady stream of gold filled her goblet. He watched her smile as she viewed his act and laughed with gentility as the rest of the long table of guests became a captive audience. He turned to them and bowed, "Can I serve any one else my lords and ladies?"

With a tinkering of silverware against glasses and deep tenors of certain already drunk viscounts, Cain stepped back from Maria with a conspiratorial wink. He purposefully brushed passed the length of his maid; the stiff material of his coat sweeping down the side of her dress. She seemed to stumble a bit from the contact but did not shiver as most women did when he attempted such a move. He reached out the same hand to steady her by the crook of her elbow as he risked a quick look into her eyes. Still nothing. Hmmm.... He would have liked to touch her again but the tinkering rose to clanking and he feared for his mothers crystal so continued his trek around the table filling glasses, charming the room and thinking of Verushka. It was a simple enough task to make flirtation appear accidental so even though his mind was elsewhere he commented on the ruffle pleated skirt of the Marchioness, he whispered the latest odds at the race track to the stoutly shipping tycoon and mixed enough congeniality with drama to put on a sufficient show. And what a show it was, by the time he circled the table the Dowager Duchess was shaking her head condemning Roman theatrics.

"I don't know how I'm going to explain him to Her Royal Highness next week. She has asked to see him and I can only imagine the kind of performance my son has planned." The duchess complained.

"I rarely plan anything Mother" Cain kissed her on the cheek, "Its far more satisfying to make it up as I go along."

"And that is what I sent you to Eton and Oxford for?" His mother chastised

"Of course not mother dearest." he remarked as he handed the butler the empty bottle of wine. "I wonder what I possibly gleaned from all those hours away from home?" Cain took Lady Maria's hand in his and leaned over pressing a gentlemanly kiss to her satin glove.

"Yes, I wonder indeed." came his mothers stiff reply.

Maria smiled secretively at Cain as she wet her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. Her delicate chocolate lashes fluttered against the slope of her cheek then she withdrew her hand from him and turned to his mother. "I wouldn't worry yourself my lady, Queen Victoria will most likely welcome Cain's refreshing wit and vivacity. And knowing our young Queen, she likes a bawdy tale or two...and I confess, as do I." Maria finished in a whisper.

Cain decided he liked this Lady Maria Saffron. It appeared she was of the gentility but was not as gentle as she seemed. He appreciated a woman made of sterner stuff than the silk she wore and Maria was... well, he didn't quite know but it wouldn't surprise him if he were to count her a friend in the not too distant future. And, if the gleam in his mother's eye was anything to go by, then Lady Maria was going to be more than a friend. The thought made Cain a little uneasy, he was after all a man and it was his God given right to be afraid of commitment. Thankfully a rustle behind him caught his attention and he recalled his stage was set for its final scene.

"I trust that you are satisfied with the service this evening" Cain addressed the room. Murmured ascents filled the hall and he continued his charade. "Then I sadly relinquish my role as your faithful servant tonight. I hope you all enjoyed the wine and the diversion, especially Lady Maria who has inspired this flight of fancy, and Viscount Turner who finished the last drop in the bottle" He was met with polite laughter. "So thank you my dear friends for your time, and thank you-" Cain turned to shake the butlers hand. "And thank you" he turned again to Verushka and deliberately encased her small hand in his. He felt the pulse of life through to her fingertips and the warmth from her palm to his. It tingled, it seared. Flesh to flesh, they touched and it seemed too private a moment for this room. He wanted her, wanted her to want him. He dropped his voice to the barest hum above a whisper, "It's so nice to see you again."

She didn't move. Her eyes were already impossibly wide so he really couldn't gauge a reaction from them. But touching her like this he expected something...a shiver, a sigh...anything. But no, his maid appeared to be un-phased by their closeness. However he was not as lucky, he felt as if his body was on fire and he wanted to haul her against him to set her ablaze too. Regrettably he let her pull her hand from him, he had already held on for longer than necessary. If he had done the same just prior to the butler, people would think him a raving lunatic. Cain pulled together the tatters of his ego and once again looked out at his guests.

"I would like to thank you all for attending my dearest mother's small gathering to welcome home her prodigal son. And now that I have personally ensured that all your goblets are full I ask that you please raise them." As each goblet, flute, chalice and glass was lifted by genteel hands, Cain spoke loud and clear "To my future bride, may she be welcomed by London as wonderfully as you have welcomed me!"

There was silence. Not a pin could have dropped on the polished marble floor.

Then, the was a roar of noise. Women discussing, Countesses planning, young ladies sniffing back tears... which did soothe the ego a bit. Men stood to congratulate him, some poured another long glass of liquor in his honour, then his brides honour, then his mothers and would no doubt continue till they were drinking to the stable boys honour. Cain simply counted the seconds as they ticked by and watched his mother rise. For such a small delicate, almost frail woman, her voice could really carry.

"Cain William Blakeney, Seventh Duke of Bexley will announce his official engagement at the Wyvernstone's Annual Summer Ball. Please forgive my son as he is over eager and over excited by this ... by love." The Duchess threw a cold hard stare in his direction then continued, "I ask that you please keep this news amongst our small group here. It pleases us to no end to be able to share this joyous moment with you all."

Cain had to appreciate his Mothers ease. It had to be killing her. There she stood at the head of the table telling the most notorious gossips and largest group of single, available, appropriate females that her son was already engaged. It really was her own fault, Cain concluded, she brought those two niches together for precisely that reason. Cain grinned widely because the cherry on the top of this proverbial cake was that he wasn't engaged, and didn't intend to be. He simply wanted a break from all this matchmaking and his mother knew it. He'd merely wait till the London season was over then report that the lady in question had cried off the engagement. He almost laughed, but thought better of it from the grip his mother had on the edge of the table. He would pay for this later, but oh, it was worth it.

The Duchess rounded up her speech with a nice bow on top and everyone went back to dinner, respectfully gossiping and speculating in much more hushed tones. Cain helped her back into her seat and squeezed her shoulder with compassion. He felt a little bad...but only a little. Taking his own seat Cain decided that things were looking up, and he didn't even have to carry out a dinner escape like Jay had. Here he could eat his lovely meal and enjoy the view of his maid, even if she didn't find him as distracting as he did her.

Cain relaxed into the soft down of his chair and reached for his much talked about Frascati. The wine really was intoxicating, each sip slipped through his lips like silk. He stared at her over the edge of his golden goblet and wondered what she would taste like. How her lips would feel as they met his and tasted the exquisite grapes from Rome. A low purr escaped through Cain's teeth and Verushka's eyes darted up again like a deer's to meet his heated gaze. Dinner was becoming awkward again but the possibilities were intriguing enough to encourage Cain to put aside his own discomfort and concentrate instead on his favourite maid. He slowly speared an ripened olive with his fork and watched her track its progression till he teased it off the silverware and into his mouth.

~

Verushka twitched, she actually twitched. She stared longingly at the door, then longingly back at the devilish Duke. Her left slipper inched out from under her skirts but the palm of her right hand tingled remembering the Dukes caress. Verushka rubbed her hand along her apron- traitorous thing! How dare it practically hum with more sensuality from one simple handshake than Verushka had felt in a lifetime. Not with the clumsy efforts of her first date with Shaun nor Dominic her sweet and caring delivery boy from Bond street. Not even Anthony, who truly introduced her to the art of sensuality, had made her feel this way. Ha Anthony - the needy one, well- it was definitely an experience and not one she would trade in. At the time she believed the sun rose and fell with his smiles but now she hoped she was a little older and wiser. But dear Goddess the duke kept sending her looks that made her question if it was the dinner he wanted to devour or her. He seductively popped every juicy olive on his plate into his mouth in a dance of lips and tongue and teeth. She was enthralled and -for god's sake- she didn't even like olives!

He watched her corset strain at the laces as her breath came a little faster, a touch more rapid. It seemed Verushka was not an unaffected by him as she would have him believe. The thought made Cain smile......Then, in the reflection of glass he saw a man and a woman slip through the shadows into the gardens. Was that Jay? And what on earth was he doing with a maid?

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