Chapter 8

Mina shivered. Summer still lingered in the air but an evening chill slipped into her bones and chattered her teeth. Then, he turned to her and it was like the hottest day in the month of May.

She looked around self consciously and gnawed on her lower lip. This man who had so casually introduced himself as Jay was probably a Duke of something or other. She knew she shouldn't be anywhere near him and definitely not in the gardens on a Ball night, but....

 I can handle myself. Mina thought

She watched him watching her and tensed, but then firmly resolved not to waver. She would come up with a plan! Propelled by nothing so wise as sense nor as maidenly as honour, she began to scold him as she bought herself time.

"Look, thanks for your help but this is really inappropriate! What do you think you're doing?!"

He gestured for her to be silent but she swatted away his attempts to quieten her and threw in a light punch for good measure. By the look on his face, he wasn't used to being hit by a woman, That look would have been enough to satisfy Mina but when her fist connected with a very hard, muscled torso she felt a burning flush creep up to her cheeks. And yet, she pressed on- no point in making a plan if you didn't stick to it.

"Don't shhh me! Ooh... you rich men! You can't just go around... man-handling women like that. Your arrogance is inconceivable!"

He frowned "Inconceivable?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure? I don't think that word means what you think it means." He said with a small smile and only a hint of playful mockery.

Mina eyed him suspiciously before tilting her head up with an air of superiority and replying, "Well, language should work for me, not the other way around."

Or at least that's what she had read somewhere once.

Jay cracked a smile at that, and then he just stared at her. He pondered what to do with this maid, now that he had her here- he wasn't entirely certain. She was beautiful, to be sure, but he couldn't be certain whether she was in possession of all her faculties. After all, she did hit a Duke which qualified most women for insanity and most men for a 'pistols at dawn' routine which was frankly rather bothersome. No, she didn't seem mad, perhaps just feisty and a little foolish considering she allowed him to manoeuvre her outside with very little protest. She was so small, so slim and although her eyes sparked with an ill-managed temper Jay could picture himself oddly wanting to take care of her and her not having a bar of it. The thought gave him cause to smile mysteriously at her.

Mina started to grow uncomfortable and she was tempted to shuffle but that was a give-away sign of unease and she would not yield. So, she stood her ground and he stood his. Although, not so much 'stood his' as just continued to be himself and stare and make her uncomfortable.

"Well?" she barked. "What do you want?"

He seemed to flicker with a wry half turn of the lips which was not exactly a smile.

Ah, that is the question. What do I want from the little sprite?

It was at that moment that Jay realised he liked her. She interested him and the thought of spending the evening chipping away at her facade was infinitely superior than returning to the drawing room and the Dowager Duchesses' twenty plus potential brides. He paused for a long moment before answering with certainty. "I would like to know more about you."

Mina sputtered like a boiling pot, all blurts and bips but not really the song of a kettle.

"You what?!" she finally got out.

He smiled at her trying to seem casual and make her feel safe, but here in the shadowed gardens beneath the pale glow of the moon and the din of genteel conversation and silverware inside she did not feel safe. For some reason this supposedly unimposing, well dressed, well versed man had a hum of danger about him. And yes, a part of her kind of liked it.... a large part, if she was honest with herself. But, like any normal girl with a flawed plan, her flight/fight response was thundering through her blood.

He took a step forward and she stilled.

He took a step back.

Jay turned away to considered his battle tactics. Clearly this woman did not want to be approached, so his earlier plan to kiss her senseless was obviously going to have to wait. No need to abandon the idea completely- just postpone the inevitable. He ran his eyes over her, assessing her with tools garnered from the Home Office. She wore a well pressed uniform but clearly did not look comfortable in it in a way that could not be blamed on the stew soaking through the cotton. She was definitely not a woman who obsessed over her visage and clearly wanted or needed to spend much of her time in the sun giving her complexion an unfashionable tanned glow, but her hips did have a dramatic wonderful curve to them and her fingers were long and slender....and splattered with paint. Ah, so perhaps she was an artist of sorts?

Mina watched him avert his eyes for a moment and lean on a banister but she still had the impression he was too controlled. And then he asked the strangest question-

"What is your favourite colour?"

Mina frowned, "Why do you want to know? What's your favourite colour?" She shot out the words in rapid succession.

He laughed a deep, rich, decadent laugh. For a man who appeared casual but seemed to her dangerously controlled, Mina found his laugh to be the first real, disarming quality about him. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it felt true.... whatever that meant, and she felt herself soften when he finally answered, "Green" with a friendly shine in his eyes.

"Oh... well then mine is blue...or purple. I used to like royal blue but now I think I like purple better. Not a dark violet-" she made a disgusted face, "- no, more like a lilac." Mina paused for a moment and then continued, "although... sometimes I like pink, a bright pink ....oh and green is also nice too, but not my favourite."

His eyebrows were raised when she looked up. He had expected a simple response, he never imagined she would have an arsenal of favourite colours or such a strong preference for some. Artist or no, most women painted watercolours because it was fashionable.

"What?" she asked

"Oh, nothing" he seemed to relax again. Play it cool Jay! he scolded himself.

"No," she was adamant. "What is it?" she started to sound slightly defensive.

He paused and then explained, "I just never gave it so much thought. Is there a reason you like those.... colours?" He finished with a slow, almost 'I can't believe I'm asking this question'  lilt.

Mina rolled her eyes. "Of course! I mean, I don't know the exact reason but some colours just make you feel happy or calm or..." she looked into his grey eyes and thought that they were the exact colour of storm clouds.

"Umm... what was I saying?" she questioned.

"You were explaining about colours. You are probably right you know. I never postulated shade definitions before, having a more mathematical mind than philosophical. However people do tend to define dyes by means of evocation, notoriety or remembrance ."

Mina knew her eyes were a little blank. She had only caught every other word and though her English lessons with the upstairs maid were good she didn't exactly go to College.

He smiled again as he watched her and though Mina could appreciate the little crinkle in the corner of his mouth and the way the wind swept his hair adorably she also felt it a little patronised which was enough to set her off again.

"Look, I don't know what your game is but I have to go have to go back to the kitchens. I have a lot of work to do and you have to eat dinner or something. So, I'm going my way, and you go yours and  I'll try to avoid you in the street next time so I won't be in your precious way!"

Jay didn't exactly know what prompted her outburst but he would like to. That was just the thing about this little firecracker. She vaulted from one extreme to the next, pretending to be guarded and yet she so comfortably displayed the whole spectrum of human emotion with ease. It was fascinating. He usually didn't spend time with one particular woman and when he studied the psychology of other spy agents they were mostly men. Women he encountered in his line of work were carefully constructed artworks designed to intrigue, please and execute with precision. Jay didn't know what it was exactly that drew him to this maid and yet her artless candour made him want to know more, and he knew that he could not let her leave.

His eyes flicked up. Other than that, he didn't move an inch and yet it felt as if he was standing right in front of her... almost touching, when he said, "Don't do that.... please? I would like to see you again."

Mina gaped. "You would?"

"I would."

Mina's mind was racing and yet still not getting anywhere fast and before she could barrel him over with more questions like Why? When? How? Are you insane? He effortlessly pushed off the railing and began walking towards her, one leather boot hitting the marble porch at a time. Hands no longer casually in his breeches pocket or straightening the lapel of his dinner jacket. Mina's eyes were caught and kept by his.

Her heart was stampeding again, her palms clammy and then for no possible reason that Mina could think of she ran. She felt her new slippers hit the tiles hard then sink into the thick grass and she was off like a gun shot. Across the yard she ran; into the gardens, around the rose shrub she once burned, and only stopped when she got to the wide old  oak on the edge of the Bexley's extensive lake. She heaved great gulps of air in and out and prayed she'd never see that gorgeous Gentleman again. She was wise to rich noblemen who seduce the house staff and left a trail of bastards; and she was not going to be one of them! Women, she meant... not bastards,  actually she probably was a bastard child. She didn't know.

Mina shrugged, then slowly sank to the slightly damp ground. She folded her legs underneath her and stared out at the shimmering lake with its moonlit reflection and became all too aware that she didn't belong here- in this garden, on a ball night, with the orchestra now dimly playing. She sniffed and rubbed her cold nose in the icy air. She took stock of herself as she sat there with her carpet-burned knees, soup stained shoes and rumpled uniform with hair sticking out at odd angles from under her cap. She sighed the sigh  of a girl who deep down wanted to at least feel beautiful and pampered and loved for one night. She sighed because life wasn't fair, because she had no family and without Liara and Verushka she'd be all alone. And she sighed because she had met the most amazing, mysterious man today who excited and scared her and she didn't know what to do. She had to talk to her friends... had to pick apart this whole night with excruciating detail except for one thing. She wouldn't tell them one thing- that no matter how amazing this man may or may not be, - with her scuffed knees and mixed up grammar she would never feel worthy of his attention.

And so, Mina- a not so young maid born into poverty, let herself have one last sigh before she fumbled to her feet. That's when she saw him standing a few feet away watching her with patient, concerned and kind grey eyes.

"You know..." he began with that little half smile she was beginning to look forward to seeing. "It's not polite to walk away in the middle of a conversation."

She gulped and then words sprouted from her lips faster than her mind actually processed them. "Oh my God, what is it with you creeping up on people! And, you should know- Mr 'leave me standing in the street while he stalks off mysteriously into the alleys.'

He chuckled, "Well that's mouthful of a name. I thought I told you to call me Jay."

"Ha. Yeah right. Jay what? Lord Jay? Duke Jay? Prince Jay?" she scoffed.

He stepped so close to her she could smell his woody cologne tease her nostrils and when he spoke the warmth of his breath felt like a soft fan against her cold nose.

"It's Jacob, the 8th Duke of Wyvernstone- but for you... it's just Jay."

"Duke? Duke!" her eyes widened. She started to curtsy awkwardly in the tiny space between his large muscular form and the oaks' tree trunk, but he clamped his hands around her narrow waist and slowly shook his head.

"Uh, uh. It's just Jay." he whispered huskily against her lips.

Mina couldn't breathe. His hands burned through her uniform and seared into her hips.

"Say it" he pestered her while she was trying to suck in valuable air to her lungs as his hands got tighter, or hotter....or something.

".....Jay," she finally whispered on an exhale.

*******

The sun had just dipped beneath a northern horizon when a stoic, dark traveller from across the Mediterranean stepped onto English soil.  The land had already began to cool without the sun's warm embrace and he pulled the thick coat slung over his back, around his broad shoulders. Hmm...so this is was England. It was a far cry from the teeming streets of Madrid filled with exotic women and foods, where rich silk fluttered from upstairs chambers into the warm Spanish breeze. It wasn't boring here, no, he wouldn't go that far, but it simply held little interest upon first impressions. Nothing grabbed the eye but the distant outline of Buckingham palace obscured by factories and smog stagnant on the edge of the Thames. An icy chill danced along the water and crept through his clothes as he stared out at the docks observing the browns and tans of efficiency over elegance while the peasants still milling in the streets closing up their seaside  stalls for the evening. No doubt to return to a quiet home for a quiet meal. The dark stranger smiled to himself and thought, with not quite excitement, but perhaps decadent humour, that what England needed was some spice.

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