Truly Yours by Bárbara Metzger Page B

beast must be yours, the way it is drooling on your foot.”
    Rex tore his gaze away from the woman’s breasts and his thoughts away from the gutter. Who was the beast? Him? “Oh, Verity. More like I am her person. She found me one day and has hardly left my side since. I apologize for not warning you. You were sleeping soundly, so I saw no reason to disturb you from the rest you need.”
    Amanda looked at the dog with distrust, then scrubbed a hand over her cheek. “I am sorry if I bothered you, after all your kindness. I think she must have been licking my cheek. The unexpected wetness startled me, that is all. I do like dogs.”
    The muddiness in Rex’s mind cleared when she added, “Small, friendly ones. I should not have screamed.”
    He shrugged. What was one more earsplitting shriek? “Half of London already believes I am torturing the truth out of you.”
    “I do not understand.”
    “That is a godsend. But speaking of the truth, will you tell me now how your stepfather died?” Rex knew he should wait until they were both properly attired, but she seemed alert and eager to talk. And he did not want to leave yet. “Did you kill him?”
    “I—”>
    “Well, I have never seen the like, in all my born days! You know better than that, Master Jordan, prancing around in your altogether—and in a lady’s bedchamber besides. Why, I’d think you were raised by wolves if I hadn’t done the job myself!”
    “Nanny?” Rex hardly recognized the gray-haired woman who had been the nearest thing to a mother he had after the countess left. She was a great deal smaller than he recalled, and stooped over. For all her bent back, she tossed her own plaid woolen shawl over his shoulders to cover his bare skin.
    “Who else do you think would come when that fool Dodd sent a man blathering about murder and disaster and the downfall of the countess? He was right, too, from the looks of things. Why, I would be mortified if the countess found out I let you compromise her goddaughter.”
    Rex ignored the bit about compromising. “But how? I mean, how did Dodd know to send for you?”
    “Tsk. My sister is your mother’s housekeeper, don’t you know. Sadie stays with me in Richmond while the countess is away.”
    “I did not know you lived so near to London. I would have visited.”
    “Like you visited your mum, then?”
    “I do not wish to speak of that.” Rex noticed that Miss Carville was following the whole conversation, her brown eyes shifting from him—and his bare legs, damn it—to Nanny Brown.
    “Don’t you go getting all niffy-naffy on me, Master Jordan, me who wiped your bum when you were born.”
    “Nanny!” Rex saw Miss Carville hide a smile behind her hand. Lud, he wished he had his breeches, or a bigger towel.
    There was no stopping Nanny Brown. “But the trouble between you and the countess is for another day. Today is for the kettle of slops you’ve landed in now.”
    That took the smile off Miss Carville’s face.
    “Well, you always were one for trouble, weren’t you? At least this time you knew enough to come to your mum’s house. My sister is already taking over the kitchen until Cook comes back, although Sadie never could cook worth a ha’penny and she gets bilious, don’t you know. I’ll take over with the young lady.”
    That was a dismissal, so Rex headed toward the door. Nanny followed, until they were out of Miss Carville’s hearing. Then she wanted to know what the doctor said.
    “He said that she’d live long enough to hang.”
    “You won’t let that happen.”
    Her words showed as a bright yellow to Rex. Nanny really believed he could alter the course of British justice. “I’ll try.”
    “Well, get on with you then. You won’t find the guilty one sitting here. And you don’t belong in a young lady’s bedchamber in the first place. You should know better.”
    “Yes, Nanny. But—”
    “And without your clothes? Heaven help us if that’s what they teach young gentlemen