To her knowledge, there was only one reason for a man to hold a woman, and she knew from personal experience that Grayson’s appetites in that direction had not been hampered by his recent injury and illness.Hadn’t he tried, just last night, to coax her into his bath?Kate’s cheeks flamed at the no-longer-pleasant memory.Had he really desired her, or had she simply been handy?
Kate recoiled from the suspicion so violently that she swayed on her feet, but it made far too much sense for her to ignore.Nor could she deny what she was seeing with her own eyes, a truth that she should have recognized long before now.
Of course, he would want Lucy.
Lucy was beautiful and fine.She had pale, soft skin and lovely clothes.She did not wear a boy’s garments or ruin her hands or tire herself with menial work.She was always fresh and delicately perfumed.Grayson would be able to tell because her hair was tucked beneath his chin, and his mouth was moving as he murmured some endearment.
He was touching her, his gloveless fingers gliding along her shoulder, and Kate felt the breath leave her lungs.Her chest hurt, and she struggled for air, taking deep gulps to compose herself.Finally, she wrenched her gaze away, telling herself that the little scene she had just witnessed did not matter at all.
Just ashedid not matter.Tom had been right all along.Noblemen were anything but noble, and this one, although adept at disguising his base nature, was no better than the rest of them.She had been fooled, but was none the worse for it, only wiser.Like so much else in her life, Grayson was beyond her control, and Kate could hardly fault his choice.
Of course, he would want Lucy.
Tom found the servant’s entrance easily enough and knocked loudly, annoyed at having to play errand boy for the high-and-mighty Wroth.Grayson,Katie called him, Tom thought with a snort of disgust.The man had wormed his way into their household, right enough, and if Katie didn’t watch out, he would worm his way right under her skirts, or breeches, as it were.
Muttering a curse, Tom banged again, more forcefully.He didn’t care what fancy assurances the fellow gave him.He could see well enough, and he saw the way the marquess looked at Kate—like a starving man contemplating his next meal.
For all the nobleman’s cool disdain, the fellow wanted Katie.And Tom was going to make sure he didn’t get her, even if it took his last breath.As well it might, Tom thought grimly, remembering the way the man had slammed him up against the drawing room wall.
Tom shook his head.He never would have imagined a lord could be so fierce, but this one was known to be dangerous.You didn’t cross Wroth, or you lived to regret it, they said, and Tom rued the day he had let Katie climb into the man’s study.Aye, he regretted plenty.
“May I help you?”
Tom jerked his attention to a heavyset female who stood where the door had been, wiping her hands on a wide apron.
“I got a message from his lordship.It’s for his valet, a Mr.Badcock.”
“You have something from Wroth, you say?”the woman asked him excitedly.
At his nod, she drew him inside through a hallway and into a large kitchen area, where various servants were taking their dinner.“We have news!”she cried, happily, and everyone surged to their feet, talking at once.
“Joan, fetch Badcock!”the woman called out.
A petite servant girl shouted, “Yes, Meg,” and rushed off without hesitation.Then the large woman, whom Tom deduced was called Meg, pushed him down onto a long bench, insisting that he join them.Glancing down at a startling array of food, Tom eyed her in confusion.
“What are you doing, emptying the larder while Wroth’s away?”
Meg laughed, as if he had made a fine jest, and slapped him on the back so hard that he nearly fell forward into a plate someone had shoved in front of him.Since it had been a long time since he had seen such bounty, Tom helped himself to some cold mutton and kidney pie, while Meg thrust scones and tarts at him, too.
By the time Mr.Badcock arrived, Tom’s mouth was full.Digging into his pocket for Wroth’s letter, he handed it over without a word.He refused to squirm as the valet looked down his long nose at the message.The fancy-dressed, stiff-backed servant looked more like a lord than Wroth did.
The valet read the missive without reacting, as far as Tom could tell.It was hard to judge from the fellow’s expressionless face.He called out for a footman to deliver a note to “his lordship’s secretary,” then turned toward Tom.
“Wait here,” he said, in an arrogant tone that set Tom’s back up.If it wasn’t for the food piled high on his plate, he would have refused.Instead, he nodded carelessly and continued eating, his eyes narrowing when the snooty fellow took Meg with him.
Once those two were gone, the remaining servants peppered Tom with questions, but he shook his head.He wasn’t about to get Lucy and Katie into trouble by revealing Wroth’s whereabouts to a bunch of gossipmongers.
“He’s well, though?”A footman asked the question so fiercely that Tom grunted an affirmative, then nearly choked when the fellow praised God for that good fortune.
Puzzled, Tom listened to speculation that the master had got himself into some deep play, was planning a shrewd political move, or finally had fallen in love.Tom glanced at the grinning faces and wondered why these people were so interested.They didn’t actually like the man, did they?
The thought put him off his food, and he slowed his pace.He did not stop eating, but he enjoyed it less, as he watched the people around him talk excitedly about Wroth.The cursed nobleman could ruin a fellow’s appetite even when he wasn’t around.
Tom pushed his plate away just as Meg returned, snapping orders at several of the girls.The woman had other things on her mind than a visiting coachman, so Tom rose to his feet.Heading toward the door, he nearly collided with the valet, followed by some footmen with trunks.
“Load these onto the… gentlemen’s conveyance,” the snotty fellow said.
“Now, hold on a moment.What’s all that?”Tom protested, following the group out the door.
