The Butler's Forbidden Fancy by Cerise DeLand

Author:Cerise DeLand
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2019-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

Hours later, the house grew quiet. All were in bed. Their own…or Simms suspected, in others’ beds.

But that was their choice. Their issue.

He’d checked that the dining room had been emptied and tidied, ready for the elaborate breakfast they’d serve on Christmas morning. He’d seen to staff that their work was done, the housekeeper happy, Cook pleased and exhausted, trundling off to bed. He’d counted the silver. One must. One never knew if one or two on staff might have developed sticky fingers.

One last guest had arrived minutes ago. Quite late. But it was the Duke of Harlow, an honored leader of the Realm and society, and form what he gathered by her Ladyship’s correspondence, a new good friend of the Countess of Marsden. So fine a friend was His Grace that the good lady had allowed him to sleep in her bedroom! That was a courtesy of convenience since Marsden Hall was bursting at the seams with guests, staff and visiting servants. But it was not only surprising that the lady had welcomed the duke to her intimate chambers, but also that she seemed—hmmm, shall we say?—enamored of the man? That would be novel.

At any rate, Simms would have some peace with all his duties done for tonight. He might even get a few hours sleep…after he had a useful discussion with the lovely coloratura soprano who had totally destroyed any values to an old country ditty.

To that end, he took to the main staircase up, two steps at a run…and halted at the landing.

Prudence demanded he should access Eliza’s room by a safer route. Hell, if he was honest with himself…and he should be, that was the very reason why he’d put her at the top of the hidden stairway from the library on the first floor!

No use lying to oneself now, eh?

He swung around and jogged to the far end of the hall. Gingerly, he slid open that door to see no one inhabited the room. Thank god. No one would spy him acting oddly.

He bounded toward the far inner door and entered the small access to the upper floors. In a minute, he was there.

At her door, knocking politely, he grew frantic. If her maid were in there with her, he’d be discreet and ask her to leave. If the girl wasn’t—and perhaps already abed, then…hmm, he’d have better opportunity to speak frankly. Wouldn’t he?

But no one answered her door.

He tried again.

Then the door opened wide.

“I need to talk to you,” he whispered and without invitation, stepped inside.

She smiled at him, sweetly, innocently. He narrowed his gaze. No. Why innocently? Was she playing his affections? But she was clearly not expecting him…or was she? She wore a muslin nightgown, diaphanous too. Nearly…Jesus wept! Transparent. She had also let down her glorious riot of red hair so that it curled and danced around her shoulders. Even a long tendril curved around the point of one voluptuous breast.

Ahem. So…something wicked this way comes for you, Octo.

“What’s amiss, Octo?” She stood close before him as if…as if she had no reason to let him in or to talk to him.

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