I Want to Ki__ You (answers may vary)

Now’s as good a time as any, Anna thinks, watching Mary play Graces with her nursemaid, and John pointedly trying to ignore them. She stands without a word, making her way to the house unnoticed.

Stepping lightly within, she hopes the various servants that rush past in their duties continue to ignore her. She doesn’t wish to raise suspicion, nor to lie, even though she doesn’t think she’s capable of it in as nervous a state as she is, but finding that frustrating man proves difficult. When she sees that both the smoking room and library are empty, there’s only one place left to check.

Finally, she finds him in the billiards room, along with the rest of the men in Master Marriott’s group of guests. She hesitates just outside the door of the hazy den, thick with the earthy scent of tobacco and cigars, her fingers twisting together nervously behind her back. The billiards room is one of several considered to be “men’s rooms”, and women, therefore, stayed clear.

So it’s not surprising when one of the gentlemen catches her lingering in the doorway, they all turn to stare at her with a range of looks from befuddlement to outright insulted. Except Robert Hall, of course. He just appears delightfully amused at the situation as well as at her discomfort.

“Anna?” Mr. Marriott questions, and she can hear the slight warning beneath the worry. “Are the children alright?”

She clears her throat before answering, trying to control the embarrassment flooding through her body. “Yes. Yes, sir. They are well.”

An uncomfortable silence stretches too long. At a loss, she’s unsure of how to explain her presence, wondering if she should just leave instead. But one look at Hall and her worries about his threats return anew.

Marriott raises his brows in a none too subtle reaction of question and irritation. “Did you need something?”

Her mouth opens to explain but nothing comes out as her mind freezes, all eyes on her. She was not expecting Hall to be here, hoping to catch him alone, and now she’s stuck and looking like a fool. Stomach in knots and tongue tied, she thinks she might faint.

“I asked for her here,” Robert proclaims nonchalantly. Anna didn’t think she’d ever feel grateful to this awful man until now. Then she remembers that he’s the reason she’s in this position at all, and would be fine if he went straight to hell.

He’s seated in the leather chair nearest her, set apart from the rest of the group. Almost as if he’s not really here with the others - not really here for the others. And again she asks herself why he’s truly here at all.

Marriott frowns, looking on the younger man with confusion. “Hall?”

Robert ignores him, hand lifting lazily from the arm of his chair, watching her with a look that pools deeper than mere amusement - though what else swims within there she can’t say. “Come,” he invites her to him coolly.

“Hall, this is inappropriate. If you need something you’ve only to ask. I’m sure my servants can help you.”

Still only eyes for her, and hand still outstretched, Robert explains, “I don’t have need of your servants, Marriott, only your governess.”

Rather than confront his entitled guest, Mr. Marriott huffs, and turns his ire on her, jaw clenched and expression furious. “Leave now, Miss Smith! We will speak about this later.”

She’s about to flee, a ball of emotion stuck in her throat and a burning behind her eyes. But then another voice calls out, cheerful and unbothered by the tension in the room. “Now, now. Wait just a moment Marriott.” It’s an older man with snow white hair and fleshy lips that he licks incessantly, making her her cringe. “I want to see what the boy needs this little mouse for,” he says with a dry chuckle.

She’d never describe Robert Hall as a boy, but compared to this old codger she supposes he is. Taking in the rest of the men, all of various ages, she sees that Hall is indeed the youngest one of them.

His brows raise expectantly, the corners of his lips pulling up. He looks almost childlike and silly continuing to hold out his hand for her. And not for the first time since she’s met him, she wonders what he’s playing at.

Feeling Marriott’s fury continuing to burn her from afar, the rest of the men look at her expectantly, no doubt enjoying this little drama unfolding before them. With a deep breath she steps inside, standing beside Hall though refusing to meet his gaze. She also refuses his hand, her own clutched behind her still.

She jerks with surprise at his touch, fingers sliding down her arm past her sleeve until he finds her own. Freeing them from behind her, he takes them in his. “Sit,” he urges playfully, boyish grin on his face when she looks at him with shock, eyes bouncing from his face to his lap, where, presumably, he expects her to sit.

His fingers squeeze hers with a gentle pressure to spur her on, and perhaps gift her with some bravery. And while she’d like nothing more than to rip her hand from his and smack the grin from his face, a much stronger part of her wishes to do as he says. To for once be noticed by others that believe they are her betters.

But she knows to do it, surely means the end of her, and everything she’s built. Hall sees it, expression becoming resigned and accepting of the choice. Lifting her hand, he places an earnest yet gentlemanly kiss along her knuckles and her stomach flutters, her always traitorous heart trying to break free from the prison of her rib cage.

She tries not to forget how dangerous this man is, all while being overcome with a spreading warmth that’s nothing to do with her furious employer or a room full of lascivious men.

“That is quite enough,” Marriott explodes, tearing down the room and snatching her free arm roughly making her cry out. Soon her entire body will be covered in bruises left by willful men.

Hall doesn’t react, only peering up at them with a cruel pleasure. It seems to only push Marriott even further. “This is not a brothel,” he snaps at Hall before setting his disgust on her. “And she is not a whore. Despite her appalling behavior.”

With that, he drags her away, nearly throwing her to the floor outside the room. “We will speak of this tonight,” he growls before slamming the door, the sound echoing around her.

What have I done?