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James carefully extricated himself from her embrace before he, too, fell asleep. Sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes, he noticed a moist spot on his shirt.
He ought to have been disgusted, but instead shook his head in near wonder at the peculiar sense of fondness elicited by her drooling.
He let himself out of the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him.
A shadow loomed in the doorway across from her room. Squinting, he saw the charcoal-and-white uniform of a maid.
She stared at him.
With undisguised disapproval.
Yes, Clara’s staff was loyal to her.
