And it was hopeless. A hopeless, misdirected emotion for someone who would never consider loving her back. Why, today was the first and probably the last time she would ever be seen with him in public. He had an image to maintain and a title to protect and she was nothing but a temporary fixture in his privileged life.
She slept restlessly that night and in the morning she was unexpectedly summoned to see Vanessa. She felt a chilling whispering of fear as she walked into her office. Had someone reported seeing her out with the Duke? And was the rather terrifying housekeeper about to tell Roxy that she had behaved inappropriately and was no longer needed?
Vanessa was sitting behind an intimidatingly tidy desk, with not a hair out of place. She looked up when Roxy walked in and gave one of those enigmatic smiles she was so good at.
‘Ah, Roxanne. Good. I wanted to talk to you about the Duke’s party on Saturday.’
Roxy nodded. Say the kind of thing you’d be expected to say. ‘Everything’s going according to plan, I hope?’
‘It is, but we’re going to need some help with the pre-banquet drinks. You don’t have a problem with doing some waitressing, do you?’
Roxy brushed an imaginary fleck of dust from her pink overall, certain that she’d caught a glint of amusement in the housekeeper’s eyes. She’s enjoying this, she thought to herself. Does Vanessa suspect what’s going on with me and Titus, and is doing this to remind me of my proper place here? ‘I’ve never done any waitressing work before,’ she said truthfully.
Vanessa’s smile grew determined. ‘Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ve employed professionals to serve the food—all you’ll have to do is circulate with a tray of champagne before the banquet begins. I’m sure you won’t find serving drinks to His Grace’s guests too onerous a task, will you, Roxanne?’
Roxy managed not to wince. In normal circumstances, maybe not. She’d got used to cleaning people’s houses, hadn’t she? And that had been a humbling enough experience, especially after her heady, youthful brush with fame. But this was different. She’d been the Duke’s lover for almost a month. She’d been hidden away for most of the time like a guilty secret and that she’d just about been able to tolerate. It was just that the thought of serving drinks to his guests and having them look through her as if she were some kind of nobody made her feel slightly sick.
But you are a nobody, she reminded herself painfully. That’s exactly what you are. You’re the woman who polishes the floor of his drawing room or flicks her duster over the priceless books in the Long Library. Oh, you might make him moan in bed and thrill him with the occasional snatched kiss—but you’re nobody special in his life and you never will be.
It was something she’d known all along, but this order from Vanessa felt like having it shoved in her face. Titus’s birthday party would demonstrate the reality of his life and it was a life which didn’t include her. His glittering friends would bring him glittering gifts. They would laugh and joke about a shared past and look forward to a shared future. Inevitably, he would dance with lots of gorgeous women—and she’d be forced to watch, circulating in her waitress uniform with a glassy smile fixed to her face as she offered them drinks.
She wanted to ask Vanessa if Titus himself had okayed this request, but she didn’t dare. She wondered if the housekeeper had waited until he was out of the house for a couple of days to drop this particular bombshell, until she told herself to get real. Did she really imagine that the Duke might have intervened on her behalf? Told the housekeeper who’d worked for him for years that he didn’t want this particular cleaner serving his guests because she was special? Because if she thought that, then she needed her head examining.
‘No, that’ll be fine,’ Roxy said, suddenly becoming aware that she needed to booster her lukewarm response. ‘I’m more than happy to oblige.’
‘Good,’ said Vanessa, with a quick smile. ‘And Amy will be there to help you, of course—so you won’t be completely on your own.’
The news that Amy would be joining her made Roxy brighten slightly, and later that morning she was removing some dust from the pouting profile of a Greek god in the Statue Gallery when her housemate walked in, beaming from ear to ear.
‘So I hear from the big, bad boss that we’re both going to be floating round as waitresses on the big night.’
Roxy gave a last flick over the statue’s tight, marble curls. ‘It seems we are.’
‘So why the long face?’
‘I didn’t realise I had a long face.’
‘Well, you do. If it was any longer, I could throw a saddle over your back and lead you round the stable-yard.’ Amy’s expression grew thoughtful. ‘I wonder, could it have anything to do with the fact that you’re having some sort of thing with our honourable employer, the Duke?’
To Roxanne’s dismay, her duster clattered to the ground and it sounded deafening in the vast and echoing space. She could feel the guilty racing of her heart as she looked at her housemate. ‘What did you say?’ she breathed.
‘Well, you are—aren’t you? Getting it on with the gorgeous Titus?’
Flushing, Roxy bent to pick up the duster, the brief distraction giving her a moment to try to compose herself. She liked Amy too much to tell an outright lie but how honest could she possibly be in the circumstances? She straightened up. ‘How did you guess?’ she asked.
‘Oh, come on, Roxy!” Purposefully, Amy walked over to the double doors and shut them quietly before turning round again. ‘You mean, apart from the fact that sometimes when I’m coming back from the pub I can see him striding away from the cottage? Or the fact that he can’t seem to take his eyes off you whenever he’s around? He watches you like one of those deer they stalk on one of his weekend house-parties.’
‘He doesn’t,’ Roxy said, but the flare of hope in her heart was quickly extinguished by the crushing reality of her situation. Even if he did watch her, it was only because he was physically attracted to her. But that was as far as it was ever going to go.
‘Yes, he does,’ said Amy. ‘He gets a look on his face which is positively primitive. As if he’d like to haul you off to the nearest bedroom and throw you down on the bed. Ooh, it makes me go all weak at the knees just thinking about it!’
‘Oh, Amy.’
‘Oh, Amy—what? There’s no need to look so tragic about it. I don’t blame you for getting involved,’ said Amy, warming to her subject now. ‘I mean, what woman with a pulse would turn down the opportunity of a fling with him? He’s absolutely gorgeous. The only trouble is that he—’
‘Yes, I know. I know,’ Roxy put in quickly. ‘He’s a Duke and I’m a commoner.’