shook her head, a comical expression of dismay on her face as she glanced at the viscount herself. “The problem is that I don’t really blame you. He is quite handsome, and the fact that they say he’s a—” Beatrice sent a quick glance at Beth, then looked away.
“A what?”
Beatrice sighed. “Oh, you are right; you wouldget it out of me sooner or later anyway. Before he inherited his title, Westerville was a lost soul of some sort, wandering about. His mother died in gaol, accused of treason, and his father was the Earl of Rochester, though the man never claimed him. Even more shocking, upon his deathbed, the earl suddenly remembered that he’d really married Westerville’s mother and produced two now legitimate children.”
“Surely no one believes such a story!”
“No one has been able to disprove it. The earl produced documents and a witness, even a priest who swears he performed the ceremony.”
“No!”
“Oh yes! What’s even more fascinating, though, is where the viscount spent the years when he was not a viscount.” Beatrice’s voice lowered to a delicious level. “They say he was a highwayman!”
“What?” Beth looked at Westerville. He was talking to yet another woman, this one a brunette with sapphires sparkling in her hair. He was bent low to catch her words over the music, his dark hair falling over his brow. Though he was quite easily the most fashionably dressed man in the room, there was still an air about him…something raw and untamed. She shivered. “I could see him as a highwayman.”
Beatrice nodded. “So could I. They also say—oh, blast! There is the comte. Pray stutter to your utmost ability. I cannot bear to be near that man!”
Beth grimaced. “He is a pompous ass.”
“And in dire need of a wealthy wife. Perhapsyou should find a twitch to go with your stutter.”
“I would fall upon the floor in a fit if I thought it might do some good. The man is a menace.”
The comte was upon them before Beatrice could respond. Beth spent the next several moments stuttering out answers and trying not to giggle at Beatrice’s broad hints to the man that Beth’s stutter was the very least of her problems.
During this time, it took quite a bit of Beth’s self-possession not to look in the viscount’s direction. She had to acknowledge that the man was a danger, but one easily avoided.
Finally, Lady Clearmont appeared from the card room, her reticule noticeably thinner as she shooed away the comte. Beth was more than ready to leave. She made arrangements to meet Beatrice the next morning and was soon in Lady Clearmont’s carriage.
Soon enough, she and Lady Clearmont arrived at the Massingale London House, where Beth bid Her Ladyship a good night before making her way to her bedchamber. There she undressed with haste, brushed her hair, pulled on her night rail, slid between the cool sheets, and blew out the candles. Only then, in the total darkness, did Beth allow herself to contemplate in uninterrupted splendor the devastating effect of a pair of thickly lashed green eyes and a charmingly lopsided smile.
Chapter 4
With care, a good servant can be right in most things, a feat most masters and mistresses would find difficult to match.
A Compleat Guide for
Being a Most Proper Butler
by Richard Robert Reeves
H ours later, Christian returned home quite content with the evening’s work. He’d been very aware of the lady’s eyes on him throughout the evening. One thing he knew about human nature was that people coveted what other people admired. And so, after Lady Elizabeth’s chaperone had swept her to safety, Christian made certain she witnessed him flirting with a number of other women. He didn’t care who they were—tall or short, fat or thin, handsome or comely—none of them could hold a candle to Elizabeth, a fact he found far too disturbing.
He met Reeves in the entry upon his arrival. Christian allowed the butler to remove his coat. “Good evening,
“A what?”
Beatrice sighed. “Oh, you are right; you wouldget it out of me sooner or later anyway. Before he inherited his title, Westerville was a lost soul of some sort, wandering about. His mother died in gaol, accused of treason, and his father was the Earl of Rochester, though the man never claimed him. Even more shocking, upon his deathbed, the earl suddenly remembered that he’d really married Westerville’s mother and produced two now legitimate children.”
“Surely no one believes such a story!”
“No one has been able to disprove it. The earl produced documents and a witness, even a priest who swears he performed the ceremony.”
“No!”
“Oh yes! What’s even more fascinating, though, is where the viscount spent the years when he was not a viscount.” Beatrice’s voice lowered to a delicious level. “They say he was a highwayman!”
“What?” Beth looked at Westerville. He was talking to yet another woman, this one a brunette with sapphires sparkling in her hair. He was bent low to catch her words over the music, his dark hair falling over his brow. Though he was quite easily the most fashionably dressed man in the room, there was still an air about him…something raw and untamed. She shivered. “I could see him as a highwayman.”
Beatrice nodded. “So could I. They also say—oh, blast! There is the comte. Pray stutter to your utmost ability. I cannot bear to be near that man!”
Beth grimaced. “He is a pompous ass.”
“And in dire need of a wealthy wife. Perhapsyou should find a twitch to go with your stutter.”
“I would fall upon the floor in a fit if I thought it might do some good. The man is a menace.”
The comte was upon them before Beatrice could respond. Beth spent the next several moments stuttering out answers and trying not to giggle at Beatrice’s broad hints to the man that Beth’s stutter was the very least of her problems.
During this time, it took quite a bit of Beth’s self-possession not to look in the viscount’s direction. She had to acknowledge that the man was a danger, but one easily avoided.
Finally, Lady Clearmont appeared from the card room, her reticule noticeably thinner as she shooed away the comte. Beth was more than ready to leave. She made arrangements to meet Beatrice the next morning and was soon in Lady Clearmont’s carriage.
Soon enough, she and Lady Clearmont arrived at the Massingale London House, where Beth bid Her Ladyship a good night before making her way to her bedchamber. There she undressed with haste, brushed her hair, pulled on her night rail, slid between the cool sheets, and blew out the candles. Only then, in the total darkness, did Beth allow herself to contemplate in uninterrupted splendor the devastating effect of a pair of thickly lashed green eyes and a charmingly lopsided smile.
Chapter 4
With care, a good servant can be right in most things, a feat most masters and mistresses would find difficult to match.
A Compleat Guide for
Being a Most Proper Butler
by Richard Robert Reeves
H ours later, Christian returned home quite content with the evening’s work. He’d been very aware of the lady’s eyes on him throughout the evening. One thing he knew about human nature was that people coveted what other people admired. And so, after Lady Elizabeth’s chaperone had swept her to safety, Christian made certain she witnessed him flirting with a number of other women. He didn’t care who they were—tall or short, fat or thin, handsome or comely—none of them could hold a candle to Elizabeth, a fact he found far too disturbing.
He met Reeves in the entry upon his arrival. Christian allowed the butler to remove his coat. “Good evening,
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