The Lady’s Secret by Joanna Chambers Page A

coat and waistcoat, Nathan was tying the drawstring around his waist. Fellowes stared at this unusual sight in momentary surprise before masking his expression and turning away.
    Bloody hell. He had been aroused by Fellowes! No , he amended the thought quickly. He had not been aroused by Fellowes . Just by Fellowes’ hands on him. An anonymous pair of hands had brought him pleasure—that was all. Any pair of hands would have done the same.
    These rationalisations did nothing to relieve his horror though. He felt embarrassed and awkward. And exploitative. Especially when he remembered what had brought Fellowes to his door—a master who had tried to take advantage of Fellowes’ youth and inexperience.
    From the lad’s expression as he’d stared at his tented robe, Nathan was sure that he was fairly innocent. His eyes had been wide with palpable shock at Nathan’s arousal. But it was not merely shock. There had been something else there too after the immediate reaction.
    Interest. Just for a moment. And that was the most disconcerting thing of all.
    Nathan dressed quickly, for the most part declining Fellowes’ assistance. He even elected to tie his own cravat, which was stupid, since he had to discard several attempts before finally getting it right. His behaviour was odd, he knew, but he felt faintly panicked that he might get another erection if Fellowes touched him. Absurd!
    He took off as soon as he was dressed, ordering his carriage and making for his club where he was meeting Bradwell.
    As his carriage bounced miserably over the cobbles, he closed his aching eyes and reviewed what had just happened. Had he over-reacted?
    Systematically, he set about reassuring himself. He had been drunk last night and hungover this morning. He was not in working order. He had quite simply not been in his own head when Fellowes had administered that soothing head-rub. His body had reacted to the pleasure itself, not the giver of the pleasure.
    He pointed these facts out to his own tired brain several times and still didn’t feel entirely reassured.

Chapter 5
    10 December 1810
    The days passed quickly for Georgy. The life of a servant was one of routine and constant occupation. Besides dressing Harland two or three times each day, there was an unending list of tasks—repairs to be made, cleaning to be done, boots to be shined, baths to be drawn, equipment to be kept up to scratch, orders to be placed and fetched.
    All in all, she was fully occupied from dawn until late in the evening. She was lucky that Harland was not a master who insisted she stay up every night to help him undress. Sometimes she was on call—usually if he’d attended a ball and was wearing very formal evening clothes that he simply couldn’t extricate himself from. But at least half of the week he sent her to bed and said he’d manage himself. Even so, every day was long and busy and, immersed in her role as she was, it was sometimes easy to forget why she was here. Dunsmore’s Christmas house party was still ten days away.
    She looked forward to her Sunday afternoons all week, a small slice of time when she could put her life as a servant to one side, meet her friends and get news of how Harry was faring. She knew how lucky she was. Mr. Taylor had been at pains to point out to her that only the upper servants got regular time off and that was a half day every month . A half day every week was an unbelievable luxury and one which Mr. Taylor was clearly alarmed Harland had agreed to. After the interview Taylor had made a point of deducting a portion of the salary her predecessor had been paid as “compensation” for this favour.
    She was rarely free until two o’clock on Sunday afternoons, by which time she had been up and working a full day already, and she had to be back for servants’ dinner at six. But she wasn’t about to complain.
    Today she was meeting Lily in Hyde Park, which was very close to Harland’s townhouse. But first, she had to deal