Page 84 of The Language of Love

When he pulled up outside his house a quarter of an hour later, he had to wait for a servant.

Several minutes later, he was still waiting.

Cursing beneath his breath, he did something he’d not done since he was a lad. He put his thumb and forefinger in his mouth and issued an ear-splitting whistle.

The door flew open almost instantly and Owen, the slovenliest and least respectful of his servants, hovered in the opening.

“Take the curricle around back,” Henry snapped, his sharp tone galvanizing the man into action.

Flitwick appeared in the opening before Owen slouched his way over. “I heard a—”

“Is Lord Rotherhithe here?” Henry interrupted, tossing the reins to Owen without looking at him and striding toward the foyer.

“Yes, Mr. Parker. He is in his—”

“Tell him I want to see him in the library. Immediately,” Henry ordered, stripping off his gloves.

Rather than look surprised, the older man merely nodded. “Of course, sir.”

Henry paused and narrowed his eyes. “How long have you known?”

“I had the honor of serving your grandfather, my lord.”

Henry barked a laugh. “So, you’ve known all along.”

“Yes, my lord.” Flitwick hesitated and then said, “May I tell the others the truth, sir?”

“You mean they don’t already know?”

“Only Mrs. Flitwick, sir.”

“Yes, make the announcement. And I’ll want you to make any necessary changes to the servants.” Henry gave the older man a meaningful look.

He wouldn’t tell Flitwick to sack any of them, but he hoped the butler would discharge Owen, at least. The man wasn’t just insolent, he was also lazy and rude.

“Of course, sir.”

“I want you to engage two grooms, two footmen, and a valet who will not mind traveling to accompany me and my new wife to Yorkshire.”

Flitwick’s eyebrowsrose a fraction of an inch. “Congratulations, my lord. And will the auspicious event take place soon?”

“Yes, in eight days. I shall give you more information when I get it.”

“Very good, sir.”

With Annis’s earlier words still echoing in his head—the ones about Rotherhithe House—Henry eyed the older man and said, “I have also decided to make some changes to the house. I’m authorizing you to implement whatever repairs you deem necessary and hire the staff you need to run the place. Forward the bills to Yorkshire to my steward at Stoke.” He hesitated and then added, “I hope you and Mrs. Flitwick will keep your positions for as long as I own Rotherhithe House.”

Flitwick’s normally slitted eyes widened. “Very good, sir. Thank you so much, my lord,” he said, his tone almost tremulous.

Henry fled before the older man dropped to his knees and offered to kiss his ring.

He’d just poured himself a glass of whiskey when the door to the library flew open and Parker came charging in, his eyes wide. “Flitwick said you needed to see me immediately. Is ought—”

“It is over, Colin. The deception is at an end,” he clarified when the other man stared at him in perplexity.

“Oh.”

Henry handed Colin the glass he’d just poured for himself since the poor bastard looked like he needed it more.