Page 8 of I Will Steal You the Stars
But then, it was not like she could get intomoretrouble.
Mina,no.
Mina pulled back forcefully, swinging a little as Enzo kept his grip on her skirt.
‘What the bloody hell’d you stop for?’ he demanded. ‘That was magnificent.’
Mina swatted his hand, and he released her. ‘I am trying to be respectable, and kissing boys in the street is not respectable, even for Southwark.’
‘I hate to point out the obvious, but HMS Respectability has sailed, and you are still on dry land.’ He gave a pointed nod at her mid-section. ‘But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy splashing about in the shallows.’
Mina tried to scowl. Tried to draw upon her former self who clung to rules. To the girl who had learnt how to fold asheet with the crispest corners, how to trim a candle wick for optimal economy and how to move through a house and be both indispensable and unseen.
What good would respectability do her?
What good would Enzo do her?
Mina slunk forward, forcing a little sway into her hips. ‘I suppose you are right.’ Enzo raised a brow as he smiled with his typical conceit. ‘Except that saying goodnight and turning my back on you would be the most satisfactory way to end a perfect day.’ And she spun on her heel, skipped up the stairs, and gave a little heel kick at the top.
‘You’re an excellent kisser,’ he called. ‘As am I. It would be a most pleasant use of time if you stayed out a little longer.’
‘Goodnight, Duke Enzo,’ she said as she pressed the door closed, watching through the sliver as he gave her the most gloriously smug smile.
If she didn’t know better, she’d think she’d impressed him.
Chapter Five
‘Doesn’t it bother you that they have doorways just for us?’ The uneven edge of tile bit at Enzo’s knee. He shifted a little, then squinted at the lock.
‘Separate entrances make it easier for the staff to do their work. They have a purpose,’ Mina said distractedly as she peered over the ledge and onto the street.
‘Reminding us we’re different is its purpose. Their door goes up, while yours goes down, only to get into the same place.’
‘Save it for speaker’s corner. By my reckoning, we’ve got a little under half an hour.’
Enzo huffed, then cast a quick glance over the parapet. Even though he couldn’t see the street from his crouched position in the stairwell, habit made him check all was well. Once satisfied, just for the pleasure of it, he paused to take in Mina.
She stood on the raised end of a boot scrape, one foot on tiptoe, the other, slightly elevated so that the high laces of practical black street boots, a ruffle of petticoats and a slip of stocking were visible. She had dressed in the invisible mantle of the domestic servant, and the weak light lit her cotton blouseenough to show the line of her corset. The sun spun little threads of gold through the few curls that showed beneath her mob cap. Even her stance screamed practical and sensible. Yet the kiss, her lips, the arch of her back that brought her firm against his chest and the alluring little smirk that she had thrown him as she closed the door, all screamed that beneath her adherence to rules and regulations, something a bit wild was desperate to escape.
He twisted the jemmy and jiggled it a little in the lock, until the sharp click echoed, and the door loosened in the frame.
Mina stepped off her perch.
Enzo swung the door open and took up the butler’s pose he’d detested learning. ‘After you, my lady.’
Mina led the way down a short flight of stairs and into a narrow hallway. She moved with practised purpose, even in the dim light. They passed the scullery, coal room, kitchens, laundry. Midway along, she paused and trailed a finger longingly over a door. She took a sharp breath in the inky depths, and pushed forward, along the corridor, to a small square of daylight that lit the sharp corners of a wooden flight of stairs. She tested the bottom step, then ascended into the light. Enzo followed.
‘They keep our wages in the office, on the first floor,’ Mina whispered over her shoulder as he stepped into the entry. ‘First room on the right. No, the second. I think it’s the second.’
‘What do you mean, think?’ he asked.
‘I was never much upstairs. I was mostly on the servants’ level. Down there.’
‘Are you saying that in this whole house, you worked downstairs, slept downstairs, ate downstairs? Were you ever above ground?’
She bunched her hands into little fists and hid them in her skirts. ‘I was a maid of all work. It’s just how things are.’
Enzo grunted. This was why he had left. This was why he chose the slums and the streets and the lice over a sprung bed in a clean house full of leeches. ‘What’s the difference between you and the fancy hay-bag who sacked you? Or between me and the man who got you knapped?’
