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Perriwick's head bobbed back and forth like a spectator at a badminton match, and then the old man actually smiled.
“You!” Blake snapped, pointing at Perriwick. “Be quiet.”
Perriwick's hand went to his heart in a dramatic gesture of dismay. “If I might be so—”
“Perriwick, you're the boldest damned butler in England, and you well know it.”
“I merely intended,” the butler replied, looking rather smug, “to ask if you would like me to remove the tea service to another room. I did suggest that you might be more comfortable elsewhere, if you recall.”
“That is an excellent idea, Perriwick,” Caroline said with a blinding smile.
“Miss Trent, you are clearly a woman of superior manners, good humor, and a fine mind.”
“Oh, for the love of God,” Blake muttered.
“Not to mention,” Perriwick continued, “excellent taste and refinement. Were you responsible for the lovely rearrangement of our garden yesterday?”
“Yes, I was,” she said, delighted. “Did you like the new layout?”
“Miss Trent, it clearly reflected the hand of one with a rare sense of the aesthetic, true brilliance, and just a touch of whimsy.”
Blake looked as if he might happily boot his butler clear to London. “Perriwick, Miss Trent is not a candidate for sainthood.”
“Sadly, no,” Perriwick admitted. “Not, however, that I have ever considered the church to be of impeccable judgment. When I think of some of the people they've sainted, why, I—”
Caroline's laughter filled the room. “Perriwick, I think I love you. Where have you been all of my life?”
He smiled modestly. “Serving Mr. Ravenscroft, and his uncle before him.”
“I do hope his uncle was a little more cheerful than he is.”
“Oh, Mr. Ravenscroft wasn't always so ill-tempered. Why, when he was a young man—”
“Perriwick,” Blake roared, “you are perilously close to being tossed out without a reference.”
“Mr. Ravenscroft!” Caroline said reprovingly. “You cannot think to dis—”
“Oh, do not worry, Miss Trent,” Perriwick interrupted. “He threatens to terminate my employment here nearly every day.”
“This time I mean it,” Blake ground out.
“He says that every day, too,” Perriwick said to Caroline, who rewarded him with a giggle.
“I am not amused,” Blake announced, but no one seemed to be listening to him.
“I'll just move this to the other room,” Perriwick returned, piling the teacups back on the tray. “The service will be in the green room, should you desire to partake.”
“I didn't even get a sip,” Caroline murmured as she watched the butler disappear into the hall. “He is quite—Oh!”
Without a word, Blake scooped her up into his arms and thundered out of the room. “If you want tea,” he growled, “then you'll get tea. Even if I have to follow that damned butler to Bournemouth.”
“I had no idea you could be so agreeable,” she said in a wry voice.
“Don't push me, Miss Trent. In case you hadn't noticed, my temper is hanging by a very fine thread.”
“Oh, I noticed.”
Blake stared at her in disbelief. “It's a wonder someone hasn't killed you before now.” He strode across the hall, Caroline clutching his shoulders, and into the green room.
