Powder of Love (I) Read Online Free Page B

She took to her heels and flew from the room, slamming into Beels, who must have been listening at the door.
    * * *
    Rosalie longed to pretend nothing had happened, but someone had to make sure the man in question would stay quiet. She considered sending a vaguely threatening note, but wasn’t sure Hawes could read. Summoning him wouldn’t be a good plan. Miss Renshaw might see him in the house, which would not be good for her overwrought emotional state, not to mention the servants had enough material for gossip.
    Rosalie decided to go through the garden and cross the cobblestone yard to find Hawes.
    It was late enough in the morning that the mews and stables were fairly quiet. Looking around to make sure no one watched, she skirted the pile of hay and manure, climbed the rickety wooden steps, and rapped on the door of the small apartment.
    “Come on in,” a muffled voice shouted.
    Hawes sat at a bare wooden table, eating eggs from a chipped plate. At the sight of Rosalie, he jumped to his feet and yanked off his brown woolen cap, revealing a head of uncombed graying hair that blended into his side whiskers and mustache. He wore only a plain white shirt and trousers, held up with cheery blue braces. Taller than Rosalie by only an inch or so, he must have outweighed her by a good two stone, all of it muscle, she guessed.
    “Take a seat, miss?” he mumbled, clutching and working the hat between both hands.
    She shook her head and launched straight into speech before she lost what was left of her nerve. Best to use her reputation again as a blunt female. “Last night Miss Renshaw and you had a…an interlude. It was due to some unfortunate drug she had accidentally taken, Mr. Hawes.”
    “Naw.” His voice was hoarse with shock. “I wouldn’t guess she was under the influence. She didn’t sound slurred or nothing. She was like herself, only…happier.”
    “It was something other than alcohol. I think it best you forget it happened and never speak of this matter to anyone. I feel responsible for her accidental dosing, so I will certainly help her should there be consequences.” She gulped at her own words. Consequences meant a baby. Oh heavens, she wished she knew what to do. No wonder her father fell back on anger so often.
    He scowled, and the skin under his left eye twitched slightly. “I don’t wanna forget it. Best thing ever happened. I won’t talk none to anybody. Her reputation’s safe. But don’t tell me it didn’t happen. I’ve had girls in my time, but none so sweet and kind and full of life.”
    Rosalie flashed on the image of his naked bum moving. “I’m not sure I should hear this,” she said firmly. “I’m absolutely certain no one else should.”
    He shuffled his feet, clad in heavy boots. He hadn’t dressed in his uniform. “She’s a good person, is Emily. If she’ll have me, it would make me the happiest guy ever.”
    She stared at him. The thought that he might actually want marriage hadn’t occurred to her. Rosalie clasped her hands to stop herself from gesturing around the small one-room apartment with the narrow, unmade bed, the rough table. “Mr. Hawes…you must understand…Miss Renshaw was born to an important family, and even though she has lost her former position in the world, she is a genteel lady.”
    “Yah, I understand. But see—” He stopped, and she knew he wanted to spit, his usual habit when at a loss for words. Thank goodness he didn’t inside his room.
    “Go on,” she said gently. No point in imitating her father any longer. She never could maintain righteous indignation for more than a few minutes.
    “This is New York. It ain’t England. She can say ‘get lost’ to me, but you can’t, if you’ll excuse me, miss.” He sounded apologetic, not belligerent.
    He’d taken so much of the wind out of her, Rosalie wished she’d said yes to the chair he’d offered. She chewed her bottom lip. “You’re absolutely correct. And I’m so glad you’re an