Simple Service (Martha's Sons Book 1) by Laura Montgomery

Simple Service (Martha's Sons Book 1) by Laura Montgomery

Author:Laura Montgomery [Montgomery, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ground Based Press
Published: 2019-09-08T16:00:00+00:00


Peter cursed silently and looked at the other door, but throwing his brother into a second door, however appealing, would look fake. Windows in both corners of the room told him it was the northeastern room, but Slidell had let Simon learn of the room as a test, no doubt.

Still, Peter’s face broke into a large grin when he saw someone he recognized across the room. “Harriett!”

An upright blond woman watched them from her seat between the two eastern double-hung windows, a small smile playing over her mouth. She looked none the worse for her experience with the now-dead guardsmen. “It’s a pair of Dawe brothers. What are you doing out there?” A breeze moved tendrils of hair across her face. She pushed them back.

It was not a storage room, and it held no cache of blasters. An empty hearth at the left lay so unused and clean it released no scent of old ash. An armoire, painted gold and blue stood to its right, and the window to its right was open. Three couches on curving legs held five of the women. They were all young,

Simon was able to talk again. Peter watched his eyes travel over the women. He smiled at them. They smiled back. “We’re very concerned,” Simon said, “that we have interrupted you.”

They were all engaged in some sort of needlework, two with embroidery and the rest with more prosaic material—socks and stockings in one rush basket, a quilt across another lap. Harriett had a shirt in her lap with a threaded needle stuck in it.

Harriett looked them up and down, taking in Simon’s own shirt, which was askew and seemed to have lost a button from Peter’s shove.

Peter dropped to one knee and scooped up the button. “And Simon needs sewing help.”

“They were fighting in the hallway,” Linus said indignantly.

“For which we apologize,” Peter said. Crossing the room, he held out the button to Harriett. “Can you help us?”

She reached for it, her eyes, which were dark and laughing, on his. “I do owe you a favor, Peter.”

“This is not for me,” Peter said. He felt bad. She owed him no favor. “This is for Simon.”

All the lovely young women were watching them.

Harriett stood and walked over to Simon. “I will need your shirt.”

A slow smile spreading over his face, Simon started unbuttoning his shirt. This room was no swimming hole where youngsters could strip to their shorts, even, sometimes, the girls. This was a room in the governor’s palace, and Linus stood in the doorway outraged. Peter wished he would leave.

Linus had no intention of leaving the young women to whatever might befall them in the company of the barbaric farmers. “Do not remove your shirt,” Linus said.

Harriett turned her limpid gaze upon the guardsman. “But he is too tall for me to replace the button with it on.”

Linus turned scarlet.

“There’s an answer,” Peter said. He pointed at the armoire.

Simon was indignant. “I’m not getting in that thing.”

Peter reached it, moving quickly in case Linus thought of warning him off.



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