Page 23 of The Cutthroat Countess

Elliot could tell by the faint tightening around his servant’s eyes that he was pleased by Jo’s compliment. The man loved to cook and would probably be a chef if he hadn’t been so loyal to Elliot all these years.

“It was my pleasure, my lady.” He turned to Elliot. “I delivered the bottle from His Grace to the small sitting room off your bedchamber as you’ve requested, sir.” He hesitated and then added, “I took the liberty of starting a fire, as there is a bit of damp in the room.”

“That sounds perfect, Crisp. I shan’t need you again tonight.”

“Very good, sir. My lady.” He bowed and left.

Elliot stood and offered his arm. “I think my valet is already halfway to being in love with you.”

“Only halfway?”

He laughed. “You must be losing your touch. Although I don’t see how. Did I mention how stunning you look tonight?”

It was Jo’s turn to laugh. “Several times, but thank you again.” She gestured to the aqua blue ensemble. “I can’t believe my maid packed this gown. I somehow suspect Marianne’s hand in this choice.”

“I suspect both Sin and Marianne are engaging in a bit of matchmaking. And Crisp, as well.”

“Hmm,” she said, cutting him an arch look. “Do you think their efforts will be successful?”

“The evening has been a delight, thus far.”

She blushed faintly at his heated look, the slight pinkness in her cheeks making her even lovelier. He’d not been hyperbolic in his praise; the celestial blue gown made her look like an angel. Somehow, he thought she’d roll her eyes if he told her so.

Elliot opened the door to his chambers and escorted her to the sitting room, where Crisp hadn’t just built a fire, but also placed flowers and a colorful throw rug he appeared to have found somewhere. Elliot was both amused by and grateful for the man’s blatant attempt to set a scene for seduction.

“How many of these sorts of places are there around London?” Jo asked, settling onto the small love seat in front of the fire.

“You mean houses owned by the government?”

She nodded.

“I don’t really know. Dozens? Hundreds, maybe.”

“I gather the government seizes properties used in criminal enterprises?”

“For the most part. There are also estates that go to the crown, of course—when a line is extinct.” Elliot poured them both a glass and then settled onto the sofa beside her.

“Thank you,” she said, and then took a sip and gave him an appreciative look. “This is very good.”

“Sin sent it,” Elliot pointed out. “He has excellent taste and the funds to indulge it.”

She cocked her head at him, her playful expression turning serious. “Are you really finished working for the government?”

He swirled the rich liquid around in his glass. “I am. It was not an impulsive gesture.”

“Oh?”

“My grandmother has asked me to come and manage her property. She is fading far too quickly and wishes to leave the estate to me upon her death.”

“Ah. You will need to be there a great deal, then?”

“She has an able steward but wishes me to come to know the property as my own.”

She nodded, staring pensively at the glass in her hand. “There are some things I need to tell you, Elliot. Things that I feel better about sharing now that you are no longer obliged to report what I say to your superiors.”

“I wouldn’t have done so, Jo.”

“Oh, I know that, but I didn’t want to put you in that position. But now . . . well, it is important that you hear them.”