Perfect.“Thank you, Miss Mullens.That is all my brain can handle for one day.Please take another few items to read if you can.”
He was going to need some privacy to recover from this—or rather, recall it in intimate detail while giving himself some relief.
Chapter Ten
A few days later, the pile of correspondence still waiting to be addressed was noticeably smaller, and Evie had watched Xander fill page after page of his folio with notes.She was gratified that he was taking the dukedom seriously and elated that he showed no signs of Tory leanings.
However, she was struggling each day to fight her desire for the still-rough-around-the-edges lord.His habit of toying with his lip while thinking was beyond distracting.She wanted nothing more than to round the desk, sit on his lap, and soothe the poor overworked lip—with her tongue.But it would be wrong to kiss him again without confessing her true identity and inappropriate besides.More importantly, he might bar her from the household, given what she’d heard about other maids making advances.She wouldn’t mind not having to clean such a large house, but she was trying to make a decision about a person she’d spend the rest of her life with, and she needed more time.
On the other hand, more kissing would help determine compatibility, at least on one level.Perhaps she could entice him into initiating another kiss.
With that in mind, she did not change into her nightrail but removed her cap, leaving her hair loose.She lounged on her narrow bed for an hour after the staff supper, which happened after the duke’s repast was complete.
She descended the front stairs this time, hoping the housekeeper did not catch her.By using those stairs, she’d walk right past the library door on her path to the kitchen door to the garden.If Xander happened to notice her, he might follow.
That’s His Grace to you.Remember your station.She didn’t care what her alter ego wanted her to call him; she craved another taste.
Tossing her hair, she checked that the front door had already been locked for the night and the footman was gone from his post.She was free to step with a little more force, to hold her skirts from hitting the wall and perhaps swish them as much as the fewer layers of servant’s garb would allow.
The library door was ajar, and the light was on.If Xander had already stretched out on the settee, he might not see her, but if he was still hunched over his desk, she’d cross in his direct line of sight; he need only look up.
Blast, he was not at his desk.Deflated, she released her skirts and almost turned around.No, she’d go walk the gardens anyway to get some fresh air and time with her thoughts.
Glancing back to see if he was in the library, her breath caught.He stood one step over from the settee, as though he’d risen and moved to see who was in the hall.
Arching a brow at him, she allowed a small smile, cast her sight down the length of him, and casually sauntered toward the kitchen door.
Sensing rather than hearing him at first, she grinned when a boot heel rang on the hallway’s marble floor.
She strolled through the kitchen and took her time unlatching the portal to the gardens.Not hearing him behind her now, she frowned but continued.He knew where she was.The rest was up to him.In the meantime, she’d enjoy the balmy evening.
Picking an aimless path along the garden walks lit only by the house windows and the moon, she ran her hand lightly over the plants in bloom.Vegetables first, then, as she neared the side of the house and ventured farther from the kitchen, flowers of all types with a preponderance of roses.Pricking her finger on a thorn, she paused her wanderings to suck it into her mouth.
A click from the house came, a swish, then the duke was striding off the low veranda from the balcony doors in his library.
Her pulse ticked faster.In the inevitable open-necked, cravatless shirt and trousers, he appeared huge.Broad shoulders and shaggy hair blocked the light from the room behind him, leaving his expression in darkness.
Perhaps he was annoyed and would ask her to go inside.
A single shiver ran through her.If only she were there as herself, Lady Evelyn, she could refuse and force him to carry her inside if he wanted her there.But she was a maid, subject to his whim.She could only hope his whims included touching.Allowing that mindset to settle over her, she swallowed the saliva that pooled in her mouth as she assessed his charms.
He stopped a foot from her, closer than etiquette between peers allowed.He shifted to one side, and the light hit her face, making her squint.Peering up at him, she licked her lips.
He sucked in a sharp inhale.“What are you doing out here at night, without even a candle?”
“A candle would blow out in the breeze, and there is enough light that I can see my way.I wanted to enjoy some fresh air and quiet.”
“Ah.”He nodded once.“Should I leave you to it, then?”
’Twas the perfect opportunity.“My lord, this”—she gestured with a wide flung arm—“is yours to command.As am I.”
It was his turn to shudder then.His voice was a rumble of distant thunder when he replied, “’Tis past working hours.And anyway, I cannot command what I want you to do.”
“Why not?”she asked, her voice husky.
“’Twould not be right.”
“No one is here.Tell me, my lord.If you were not concerned with right or wrong, what would you have me do?”She took a half step closer, provoking him.But she’d been a lady far longer than she’d been a maid, and ladies did not initiate kisses.Or did they?She might have to ask her friends about that when she returned to London.
