aka Connie Bailey by Connie Bailey

Author:Connie Bailey [Bailey, Connie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-63476-610-4
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2015-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

VALENTINE DREAMED that he slept with his back to a roaring fire, and when he woke, he missed its pleasant warmth. A discreet knock at the door banished the remnants of the phantom hearth, and he sat up quickly. After a moment, he heard Marche on the other side.

“May I enter?”

Valentine took a deep breath, and he remembered to use the upper registers of his voice when he called out permission. The door opened, and Marche stooped to retrieve the tray he’d set down. Carrying his burden into the bedchamber, he deposited it on a side table, knocking one or two small items to the carpet. Valentine remained where he was, the coverlet clutched to his chest.

“What a fetching sight you are with your hair tumbled on your shoulders and your eyes heavy with sleep. I assumed you would not be ready to face your guests so early, and I have brought you something to break your fast. No one will think it strange, although the cook gave me a few odd looks when I presented myself in the kitchen to act as your servant.”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” Valentine said, sliding his legs over the side of the bed. “You are a duke after all.”

Marche paused to admire the young man’s long, shapely limbs as the bed gown slid up to mid-thigh. Never had he seen such an attractive youth, and the irony of his situation did not escape him. Again, he vowed that he would sip Valentine’s yet-untasted sweetness before this charade ended. The seduction of the beautiful, unworldly young man would at least keep him entertained. “Will you come and take a morsel?” he coaxed.

“I would rather have a pair of breeches, but I suppose that is not to be. The baggage with my trousseau was in the carriage yesterday, but I can’t imagine where it may have gotten to.”

“I think that if you open your wardrobe, you will find everything you need to play the part of a duchess.”

Valentine left off eyeing the honey cakes to look at the bow-front mahogany armoire. Curious, he was drawn across the room to open one of the marquetry doors. Within the shadowy recesses of the huge wardrobe were half a dozen gowns, a morning dress, and a riding habit along with several pairs of shoes and boots. “How is this possible? I brought only two gowns with me for day and evening.”

“You reckon without the will of my sweet aunt. She had three seamstresses and Lord knows how many maids up all night sewing, using one of your gowns as a pattern.”

“And the shoes?”

“A footman rode all night to London and back. He brought these as well.” Marche opened a drawer full of gloves. “You look a bit vaporish. Why don’t you come and sit down?”

“I don’t wish anyone to go to such trouble on my behalf.”

“You married a duke, if it had escaped your notice. You are Lady Valeria now, Your Grace. A lift of one of your lovely eyebrows will bring an army of servants on the skip.

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