AllFreeNovel
Share Us
******
Thinking himself quite capable of solving the mystery of the missing necklace, Grandison spent the remainder of his day at his club, listening for any talk of the necklace, for, certainly, a Royal necklace taken from a London residence should have stirred up, at least, a few whispers - but he heard nothing, which proved to be quite frustrating. Afterwards, he had gone home to oversee business associated with the Earldom, and, later, he returned to the streets, only to seek his bed after one of the clock, as irritated as he had been when he had departed Harlow House earlier in the day.
He entered his chambers and paused. His lips twitched in amusement.
Removing his coat, he handed it off to his valet, first removing the Queen Anne pistol from the inside pocket.
“I shan’t require anything else, Towson,” he told his valet. “You may retire. I will not be going out again this evening. You may finish this in the morning.”
“Very well, sir.”
His man gathered Grand’s discarded clothing and slipped through the dressing room door.
With the servant’s exit, Grandison took up a place before the window, but not where he could look out on the garden below, draped in darkness. Rather, actually standing facing the window, where he waited until he heard Towson close the door before saying, “Whoever you are, you should know I have a gun, and I hold no qualms in using it against you.”
A rustle of the drapes brought forth a familiar figure, but one not dressed as he suspected.
“How did you discover me so quickly?” Miss Everley asked.
Grand’s smile turned upward.
“Now, are you not a fetching sight! Perhaps I should hire female servants and dress them in the robes of their male counterparts. If they all appeared as tempting as you, I believe I could begin a new trend, a male ape leader, of sorts. I am certain more gentlemen would remain at home rather than to seek quiet time in their clubs, if women dressed as you are now.”
The lady brushed past him.
“Not amusing, my Lord.”
Before him stood the woman whose presence had not left him since she sent him packing earlier in the day. She was dressed in his household livery and wore a wig, but her features had been, unfortunately, for Grand’s state of mind, etched in his memory. He wondered for a brief moment if he could convince her to model nothing but one of his shirts, wearing it as a night-rail and being beneath him in the bed not ten feet to his right. He doubted he would ever fully forget her, and the lady would pepper his dreams for an eternity, for there was something compelling about her features that drew him in.
Despite being dressed as a man, she assumed a very feminine stance, which brought him a new realisation: The lady was not as familiar with men as he had first thought. Grand had been foolish enough to assume that, with Brook’s Crook as her father, along with the bravado she had displayed previously, she was often in the company of men. Ironically, the idea pleased him: to learn that she possessed her limitations. Earlier today, she had proven herself a formidable opponent, for only a sprinkling of men dared to stand against him and certainly no women. Even a few Dukes gave sway to Grand’s opinions. Moreover, he could name only a handful of women who could hold his interest more than a matter of two hours, but her essence had stayed with him for more than twelve. A record, he suspected, that would soon be broken in length of time, not in his waning interest.
“You have yet to explain how you discovered me so quickly,” she demanded.
“And you have not explained how you managed to invade my private chambers or how you came to be wearing the livery designed for my servants,” he countered.
He noted the slight flinch of her shoulders before she responded.
“A woman of my stature easily blends in with men.” She blushed before admitting, “I do not possess the ‘qualities’ most men prefer in a woman. I am too... too—” She blushed again. “I am not eye-catching. There I said it. Most men think me too plain to take notice.”
He found himself frowning. Grand strongly disagreed with such a foolish statement. Was Miss Everley saying she thought herself unattractive? Who had dared to plant such an idea in her pretty head?
“I can observe my shortcomings clearly upon your features, my Lord,” she continued with downcast eyes. “Have no fear, I am accustomed to such disdain.” Grand wanted to deny her words; yet, before he could compose the correct phrases in his head to convince her otherwise, the lady purposely shrugged off her mantle of woe. “Even so,” she spoke again, obviously attempting to fill the awkwardness between them, “my lack of femininity serves me well in situations such as these. I am tall enough to pass as a second footman. As to the livery, most fine houses store the extra livery near the butler’s pantry.”
He regarded her, despite himself, a little impressed. She went on, her voice distinct.
“Before you ask, earlier, I dressed as a street urchin and delivered a message to your home. In fact, you will find the note that Lord Liverpool wished me to convey to you in your study. In gratitude, your kitchen staff presented me a small meal of bread and butter. When they once again returned to their duties, I spoke my farewells. Your cook and her assistants waved me off, but, instead of departing, I slipped into the service stairs, made my way to an empty bedchamber, and waited for the household to settle in for the evening.”
Grand would be speaking to his butler tomorrow about how best to prevent such an incident from occurring again.
“And the wig?” he inquired.
“Something that belonged to my father. It is a little large, but with my hair tucked inside, it is quite secure.”
Grand briefly wondered how often she had employed such devices. Instead of asking of the frequency in which she posed as a man, he asked, “What was Liverpool’s message?”
“I cannot say, my Lord,” she said with that characteristic lift of her chin in defiance.
Grand pointed his finger at her, daring her to refuse to follow his order.
