“Do you conduct business there?”
“You could say that.”Xander slid a glance at the footman.The intention was never to keep his ‘hobby’ a secret.Chances were that Banks had already passed the gossip of him working at the pub in town.But it also wouldn’t do to get too familiar with the servants.While treating everyone with respect was imperative, he never got too close to pub staff in the past after that one regrettable incident with the barmaid.Distance as an employer seemed better.He’d share his pastime with Evie in private.He was willing to bet she’d understand and perhaps appreciate it.
“I hope it was productive, then.”She looked a little disappointed he hadn’t shared more details.
“What of your day?Polish much furniture?”he asked with a grin.
Duncan stifled another snort.
“Actually, I had the morning off, the first time since I arrived.I thought it was good timing when I received your note that we weren’t meeting regarding Parliamentary documents and went to the village to visit.”
“I’m glad.Everyone here works quite hard.I need to speak to Mrs.Betters about the staff’s work schedule.”
Evie and Duncan both stared at him with raised brows.
“What?”
“Dukes rarely care about staff holidays or work schedules.And even in the more generous households, the lady of the house typically manages that.”
“Well, I don’t have one of those, do I?And whilst I know you’re used to London, where Parliamentary Acts are more prominent in conversation, this place is quite removed.I believe it is in my best interests to prioritize the world I can most affect just as much as the greater one out there where I am but one vote of many.”
Evie nodded.“I respect that.I’d never quite thought of it that way.And at some point, you’ll wed, and then your duchess will help you on both counts, which will ease the burden some.”
If she only knew my plan.
He stood, waving off pudding as it came out.He wanted to read more about his holdings before he asked her questions.“Please, share it in the kitchen.I need to get to work.”
* * * *
Two hours later, he was ready to tear his hair out at the roots.Standing, he stretched his arms up and out and arched his back to counter having hunched over papers since the evening meal.Even with a candelabra on each side of him, his eyes were straining.
He strolled to the sideboard and poured a whisky.One of the absolute best benefits of being a duke, beside his gorgeous and helpful maid and a bed that finally fit him, was always having excellent whisky on hand.As a pub manager, he’d sampled all sorts, balancing the budget versus what would sell with variety and quality.Most patrons in his brother’s pub drank beer.Only the souses and the most discerning, like his stepfather the Earl of Northumberland, ventured in to drink the finer spirits.So he’d stocked basic rotgut and the nicest Scotch the pub’s finances allowed for.
The house had a selection of Scotch and Irish Whiskey, although duties on both were threatening to increase their prices further.Depending on his mood, he sampled one or the other.Tonight, his mood leaned to the mellow.Also, frustrated arousal without an outlet.But more mellow because he was playing the long game.So Irish Whiskey it was.
Rolling the second sip around on his tongue, he meandered back to the desk to stare down at the unending piles of paper, wishing he could trust himself enough to have Evie help him.Although her days were long enough that he should not keep her up at night.
A rustle of skirts caught his attention.She stood at the entrance of the library as though he’d conjured her, still wearing that sack of a uniform.His brows quirked.“I thought you’d be long abed.”
“I was waiting for you to call for me.Usually, I help you with this if Munroe isn’t here, and we missed our afternoon session.”She gestured to the desk.
“I’d hoped to get through more without help.’Tis been nearly a month.”
She shook her head.“Do not get discouraged.Not being in London, at White’s or Brook’s or one of the gentlemen’s clubs, talking about this, you’ll have to read through each one.Those men find others whose opinions they trust and share the burden.Plus, ’tis all a bit out of context for you, I suspect.”
He nodded, taking another sip.She peered at his tumbler, and he tilted it toward her.“Care for some?”
Taking his glass, she sniffed the amber liquid and raised it to her lips, barely wetting them before pulling the glass away and licking them.
He nearly groaned, instead choosing to take a gulp of whiskey.
She hummed, tilting her head.
“Do you like it?Would you like your own glass?”he asked.
“I think I’d like it better this way,” she answered, leaning in to lick his lips, twisting them open to slide her tongue against his, humming again low in her throat.
He clinked the glass down on the desk and grabbed her, slanting his lips across hers and sliding a hand through her hair to the base of her neck.
