Page 10 of Broken

“No. She has lived at Cottingstone all her adult life. Her parents died long ago and her remaining family sailed for Australia a few years back. She’s heard nothing of them since. Ossie knows nothing except the manor.”

Judging by the butler’s face, Giles guessed he expected him to turn her out. His housekeeper was losing her mind, a little bit each day, more noticeable to Giles because of his longer absences. He was not a monster but, in time, something would have to be done for the woman. She would not be able to manage such a large role on her own.

Dithers fidgeted with his cuff nervously, clearly agitated by the situation too. Giles decided to contemplate the dilemma another day. “Perhaps you should have married her, Dithers. Then she would have had an appropriate surname.”

His blush caused Giles to chuckle out loud. Dithers, a confirmed bachelor, was a rogue of the servant class. At forty, he still cut a fine figure, but no longer chased the ladies. A fact that confused the hell out of Giles. He had gotten his first lessons in seduction listening to the man spouting his conquests to the head groom when he was a lad. Blushing did not suit him.

“Keep an eye on the nurse, Dithers, and try not to antagonize my housekeeper.”

CHAPTER FOUR

This house was familiar.

Lilly remembered hurrying down the long halls through rooms filled with warmth and light. But she couldn’t run any longer, and she missed the caress of summer sun over her skin.

It was dark now, cold. Her bare feet trod upon timber floors as she made her way through the manor, moving silently from room to room, searching for someone, anyone awake in this dark place.

“Dum, dee, dum, dee, dumpty dum,” Lilly hummed.

She missed laughter the most, and especially smiles. No one smiled at her now—not happy smiles, anyway. They were always just a bit lacking, brittle and fake. Her papa never smiled anymore. But Lilly remembered a day when he had spun her round and round so fast that her feet left the ground. She had shrieked at him to stop, or not stop, laughing so hard her sides had ached.

Laughter was just a memory that tormented Lilly’s restless nights.

“Oh, that’s right. Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,” Lilly sang, pleased to dredge the line of a childhood favorite from her imperfect memory. The words echoed in the empty hall and she grew afraid of the strange echo.

Unsure of many things, she leaned against the wall to rest and looked up. The nursery where she had stayed during her last visit was on the upper level, far away from any of the guest rooms so she couldn’t bother anyone. Getting there required too much energy, and her heart fluttered in her chest already. She pushed her weary body away from the wall and peered at the portrait opposite.

The lady in it seemed familiar, but it took Lilly a while to place who she was. Giles’ mother. Lady Daventry had given her a pretty pink parasol for her birthday and kissed her cheek, promising they would be great friends when she grew up. Lilly had carried it with her every day until it broke. She couldn’t remember why it broke, only that she’d been angry about the loss and had cried into the countess’ gentle embrace after discovering it in pieces.

“Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.”

Lilly knew all she wanted to know about falling and turned away from the portrait, dragging her heavy limbs onward. She leaned against a solid door at the end of the hall, pushed until it opened, and smiled at whom she found.

Giles. His heavy breathing filled the room.

While she longed for companionship, she dared not wake the earl, a man who was meant to be her husband when she grew old enough to marry him. She moved past a bureau, snagged a ruby cravat pin as she went, and stood at the foot of the massive bed to observe him in silence. Papa had warned her not to impose.

Firelight licked over his sprawled golden form, and nothing else in the room had the power to capture her attention. Only the man.

The twisted linen hinted he was naked under the sheet and she stifled a giggle.

The absence of Giles’ clothes did not shock her. They were often missing. Sometimes pushed down around his ankles, or gone completely. He looked peaceful in sleep; the laugh lines of his face relaxed as he breathed, even and deep.

Smiling that his ginger hair was as tousled as always, she traced her fingers over his sheet, enjoying the slippery linen against her skin.

His foot was close and she touched him, brushing the tuft of ginger hair on his big toe with her fingertips. His leg twitched away and she raised her eyes along the lean length of him. So much skin exposed.

In London, she’d never viewed him all at once like this, or from so close a distance. Despite his habit of making love to every woman he seemed to meet, Lilly thought him perfect. Sleek like the caged jungle cats her papa mentioned were in London, but intent on giving nothing but pleasure.

He kicked the sheet the rest of the way off and her breath caught.

He was beautiful. Whole and unmarked.

Unlike Lilly who had hard lumps of skin on her arms and back.

She let her eyes rest at the junction of his thighs and his body changed as she watched. He grew and lengthened so much he surprised her. Lilly swayed forward, curious to get a better look, but he moved and touched himself, a ragged breath hissing from between his parted lips.

An aroused Giles was a comfortable sight to Lilly. It was just something he did, as commonplace as flicking his hair from his eyes or brushing a speck of dust from his coat sleeve.