Indiscreet by Kasey Michaels

Author:Kasey Michaels
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Book Two

Never Say “Never”?

It would be superfluous in me to point out

to your lordship that this is war.

– Charles Francis Adams

“I’m very brave generally,”

he went on in a low voice:

“only today I happen to have a headache.”

– Charles Lutwidge Dodgson

Chapter Nine

“Monseigneur? A moment of your time, s’il vous plaît?”

Bramwell turned slowly, leading with his eyes, his head, as Reese struggled to complete folding His Grace’s neckcloth into the Waterfall. He blinked once, to be sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. He was. Sophie’s maid—Desiree, was it?—was standing in his private dressing room as Reese was making him ready for the day. Amazing. Truly amazing.

“Leave us, Reese, if you please,” he said, still eyeing the woman as he slid from the high stool he’d been half-reclining against as the valet fussed over him. She was fifty if she was a day—unnaturally blond, realistically plump, and rather matronly. But with eyes much older than a half century, as old as the oldest profession, and with an air to her that said she was no stranger to gentlemen’s dressing rooms, or the sight of those gentlemen in less than a complete state of dress. Amazing, yes. And interesting.

“But, Your Grace?” Reese snatched up Bramwell’s coat, holding it by the shoulders. “We are not done, Your Grace.”

“Reese, the day I can’t put my coat on by myself is the day I shoot myself,” Bramwell said, “not that I wouldn’t mind a little help with my boots. But later, Reese. For now, I have company.”

The valet bit his bottom lip as he looked from his employer to the female intruder. He whimpered a time or two as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, thrust the coat into Bramwell’s hands, then fled the room.

“So, he is the one, monseigneur? This Reese person? It was he who tipped your father and my dear Constance over the edge? Until Sophie told me the details last night, I had wondered precisely how it had happened. The balcony I already knew, the Reese I did not. Such a nervous little rabbit, to have caused so much trouble, oui? I could have him on a spit, you understand, should I wish it.”

“Yes, I can believe that. I’d thought of it a time or two myself, actually.”

Desiree’s shrug was one of eloquent dismissal as she relieved Bramwell of his coat, holding it out for him, effortlessly taking on the role of valet. “Ah, monseigneur, but as you and I know, this is all in the past. There is no sense now in weeping over spilt dukes, oui?”

Bramwell felt the corners of his mouth twitching in mild amusement at this expression of Gallic practicality as he turned his back and slid his arms into the coat sleeves. “Perhaps you also do boots, mademoiselle?” he suggested amicably as he smoothed down his collar and shot his cuffs, turning to face the maid once more. “I feel slightly at a disadvantage without my boots, you understand.”

Desiree made

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