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“What a loss.”
Rose nodded. “I do not think he would commit such an act. No one here does. But then everyone has their secrets.” She swung a brief look at Chastity before bundling up the rest of the bedding and shoving it in the basket. “You can manage from here, can you not?”
Chastity nodded and busied herself stretching a sheet over the bed and carefully tucking in the corners. Did Rose mean she suspected Chastity had a secret or was it that Rose had one and she wanted to confess it?
Adding a blanket to the bed, she took a long inhale of the clean fabric. At least the fragrance of the earl’s cologne had gone with the dirty sheets.
Now if she could only forget the scent from when she had been smothered against Lord Kendall’s chest, all would be right in the world.
∞∞∞
“Do you try to look intimidating or is it just natural?” Chastity shut the library door gently and strode over to where Valentine had plucked out a copy of Paradise Lost to peruse whilst waiting for her to arrive.
He’d read approximately one word. Over and over again.
A brow raised, he eyed her. “I did not realize reading a book was at all intimidating.”
“Very well, brooding then.” She waved a hand up and down him. “I just wanted to know if this combination was intentional. An attempt to frighten people away for some reason perhaps.”
“This—” he gestured to himself, mimicking the wild hand waving “—is how I look. There’s little I can do about it. Men do not have all the lotions and perfumes and fripperies women do.”
She rolled her eyes. “I think Beau Brummel might disagree. You do not see women stuffing their stockings with horsehair.”
He gave a shudder. “Heaven forbid.”
“Of course, you could shave. Or get a haircut.” She paused. “Or change your cologne,” she muttered.
“My cologne?”
Chastity’s lips thinned and she shrugged. “I do not like it, that’s all. It’s too...cologney.”
“Really? Cologney?” He put a hand to the back of his neck. He wore that cologne because it was what he’d worn since his years as a young man at Cambridge. He’d never thought too much about the actual scent of it.
“It does not matter.”
“No.” He set the book back, sliding it in between the rest of the matching leather-bound volumes. “You wished to speak on a matter?”
“Yes.” She strode over to one of the armchairs set by the empty fire.
Lamps were lit upon the mantelpiece, casting her in a flattering amber glow. Not that Chastity needed the soft light to make her look any prettier. Even after a day of work, there was no hiding what a handsome woman she was. Her hair stuck out at angles from under her cap and her apron was creased. He spied tiny shadows under her eyes too. But none of it mattered. She certainly did not need lotions and perfumes and fripperies.
Sinking down with a sigh, she dragged over the footstool and set her feet upon it. “That’s better.”
He eyed her with lifted brows. “Are you content, my lady?”
“You have me playing maid to you all day, my lord. Is one small break not allowed?”
“I suppose.” He had to admit she had lasted longer than expected. For someone who lived the most privileged of lives, even in comparison to his, she had a certain determination to her that was to be admired. “Though cease calling me ‘my lord’ in private. It feels...odd.”
“Oh?”
“You are my equal if not my better, and we both know that.”
“Hardly. I married out of my title long ago.”
“It does not change the fact you are the daughter of a duke.” He eased onto the chair opposite, not allowing himself the luxury of sinking into the softened leather.
The scene struck him as far too familiar and something he had never, ever wanted—not since it had become apparent the ladies of his acquaintance had entirely different morals to himself. She would be no different, he reminded himself. Her entire life revolved around the ton and nothing could change years of being so enmeshed into such a lifestyle.
