“Mr. Reeves will have you cleaning teapots for the next century, no matter that you saved the poor woman.”
“I’m afraid my heroic actions will likely go unpraised.” He chuckled wryly at the idea of anyone thinking him a hero.
“Most of the guests are here. Why don’t you dry off and see to the rest of the luggage. I’ll make sure Benjamin and the doctor find her.”
Adrian clapped Phillip on the back and returned downstairs, only to run straight into Lady Latham.
“I’ve only just heard, you found my granddaughter outside and carried her into the house. What happened to her?” She held her cane tight, knuckles white, but he still heard the fear in her imperious tone.
“She slipped on the hill and twisted her ankle very badly, my lady. We sent for the doctor, and she is resting in her room.”
“Thank you, Mr. . . . ,” Lady Latham said more quietly.
“Adrian Montague, my lady.”
“Adrian, yes, now I remember. Thank you. Venetia is my world, you see. If anything happened to her . . .”
“She’s a strong young lady, and brave,” Adrian said. “I’m sure she will be fine.” He started to move around Lady Latham, but her cane rose as if of its own volition and blocked his passing.
“I shall make this known to Lady Devon. If it isn’t too much trouble to ask, in addition to your other duties, would you be able to look after Lady Venetia? See that she has whatever she needs? I trust you, young man, and frankly, I like the look of you. It would do my stubborn little dear some good to spend time around a handsome young man with manners.”
“Surely you don’t mean for her to spend time with me?” She had to be forgetting that he was only a footman. Perhaps it was because he had left his coat out in the gardens.
“I’m aware that you are a servant, but that is merely a word to me. What matters is what is in here.” She tapped his chest with her cane. “I will speak to Lady Devon. She may reduce your duties so you may care for Venetia.”
Adrian didn’t dare argue. “Yes, my lady.” He bowed respectfully and let her pass by him to go up the stairs to see to her granddaughter. She disappeared down the hall, and he headed back out onto the terrace and into the rain to find his livery coat.
He tried to focus on how he would handle the butler’s displeasure and not about how he might be spending more time than was wise with the beautiful Lady Venetia. Adrian was no rakehell, but even he would have to be on his best behavior around someone so sweet, or he would lose his home here and any reference that could see him settled elsewhere.
Lady Latham had no idea what she was asking of him.
* * *
Venetia was aware of her maid’s mutterings as she was stripped of the rest of her clothes and bundled into a clean, dry chemise. Her hair was combed out and the pins removed so the wet locks could dry faster.
“Damned man, touching your stockings.” Phoebe herself was tweaking the damp stockings into a better hanging position on the fire grate. “The nerve of him.”
“Please, Phoebe, do not be angry with him. He rescued me. I was the silly fool who fell down a hill. He carried me back to the house.”
Her maid glanced her way. “Aye, like Lord bloody Byron he did, all that dark hair and fetching looks. Yes, he’d play the hero for any woman, I’m sure.”
Venetia didn’t like that her maid was so set against the footman. She cut off the maid’s tirade. “He did me a great service, and it isn’t his fault that he is rather dashing. Ladies of great houses always try to have the most attractive men in such positions.”
Venetia let out a sneeze and fell back on the pillows. Her maid was there in an instant, cooing to her and handing her a cup of herbal tea. She wasn’t really upset with Phoebe. Her maid was fiercely loyal and protective, often to a fault.
“There now, my lady.” She fluffed the pillow, and Venetia drifted off to sleep until the doctor arrived. When she opened her eyes, she found her grandmother sitting beside her bed, watching with concern as the doctor examined Venetia’s ankle.
The doctor was a man of middle age, and he had a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose. He tested her swollen ankle with gentle fingers.
“This will hurt, my lady, but I need to see if the ankle is broken.” He rotated the joint slowly, and Venetia swallowed back a cry of pain.
“Thank heavens, ’tis only sprained, but I commend you,” the doctor said. “You managed to pop the bone out of place and back in. That is far more painful than if you had broken it. But the good news is this means your recovery will be a few days rather than several weeks.”
“That is good news,” Gwen replied.
Her grandmother was unusually quiet. Normally she would be talking with the doctor about a great many things, but instead she was very subdued.
“Drink herbal tea, and stay warm and in bed for the next several days. I want you to send for me if you develop a fever. The valet who met me at the door said you’d been in the rain for some time. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.” He collected his hat and bag and bid Venetia and Gwen farewell.
When he’d gone, Venetia groaned. “So much for the house party. It seems I shall spend the entire time trapped in bed like some invalid.”
“Do not fret, my dear. I’ll see that you have company.”
“Company? You won’t keep me company?”
Gwen laughed. “No, my dear, not me. I am too old to keep you entertained for an entire week. No, that handsome footman will do nicely.”
“What? Gran, that’s not wise and certainly not proper.”
Gwen smiled coyly. “Oh, come now. Life needs to be a bit improper at times. And this is a chance for you to learn how to be around young men. Your father kept you so protected that you’ve never had a decent opportunity for interaction. But don’t worry, it’s time we fix that.”
“Gran,” Venetia warned, but she was too tired and her muscles still ached from when she’d fallen. There was little fight left in her.
Gwen kissed her forehead and patted her cheek. “Rest, my dear.”
Despite her exhaustion, Venetia couldn’t help but think about the disaster that would surely follow if she and Adrian were forced to be in each other’s company for a week. However, she couldn’t deny that her traitorous heart gave a few quickened beats at the thought.
He had been so romantic, looming out of the rain to lift her up, his warm hard body pressed tightly to hers. Their bodies had strained as they had moved up the hill as one, together, united. The thought brought a heated blush that would have sent Phoebe calling for the doctor had she been there. Venetia closed her eyes, remembering Adrian holding her. She could even still smell a hint of his scent upon her skin, the scent of man and cold rain mixed in an enticing blend. Had she ever noticed a man’s scent beyond the usual overdone colognes at balls? Not really.
Gran was right—she could use more time around men, especially alone. There was so much she hadn’t really thought would affect her, and she needed to be prepared for courtship. The footman would be good practice. Gran was also right about the fact that Venetia did have a soft spot for dark-haired men with fine eyes.
At least, eyes that belonged to a certain footman.
* * *
Gwen found Lady Devon in one of the drawing rooms, greeting a new group of guests. Once those guests had departed and she was alone with Lady Devon, Gwen took her chance.
“How is poor Venetia? I’ve only just heard what happened.” Marrian was pale and wide-eyed with concern.
“Not a broken ankle, thank heavens. But she suffered a rather nasty sprain. She’ll need to be in bed most of the week.”
“Oh, how terribly disappointing,” Marrian sighed. “I was so looking forward to matchmaking her with one of the gentlemen this week.”
“As was I, but I believe we may still have some measure of success. I wasn’t jesting when I said Venetia has never been properly courted. She’s had no real opportunities for romance or attraction b
efore. She was kept at a careful distance from most eligible men by my son, God rest him. I believe he feared that she would leave him if she were to marry, and after he lost her mother, he could not bear the thought. Then, when he passed, she was caught in a year of mourning. It is only now that she has a chance to taste life for the first time.”
Lady Devon listened to her friend intently. “I imagine you have a plan, Gwen?”
“Actually, I do. That footman, the handsome one who seems to have trouble swallowing. The choking one, I mean.”
“Oh, Adrian? Yes?”
“Would you think it horrid of me to request that he tend to her while she’s recovering?”
“By tend to her, what do you mean?” Lady Devon asked.
“Bring her meals, eat with her, read to her, keep her company.”
The duchess’s brow furrowed. “You and I would keep quiet on the matter, but the servants, even the best of them, would talk. It’s improper, and it would ruin her.”
“Not if we have her maid present.”
“Gwen, you don’t even know Adrian. How could you trust him to be alone with her?”
Gwen smiled. “I trust him because you do. You and your husband only hire the best, and that young man has been with you a long time.”
“He has,” Lady Devon admitted. A flush to her cheeks caught Gwen’s attention.
“But there’s more to him than that, isn’t there?” she asked cautiously. “Who is he, Marrian? Footmen do not make a duchess blush, not without cause.”
Lady Devon looked away. “I shouldn’t speak of it. It isn’t my place. Adrian is a wonderful young man, and you are right, he has worked hard in my home for ten years without one incident or word spoken against him.”
Gwen knew she had touched upon something important about the footman, but now was not the time to press the matter. She needed Lady Devon to agree to let the man attend to Venetia.
“So you agree to this, then? You’ll allow him to tend to her?”
“I . . . Well, I suppose so. So long as Mr. Reeves is not desperately in need of him.”
Gwen hastened to assent to this. “Yes, of course, by all means.”
“I will speak to Mr. Reeves privately and have his assurance to let Adrian see to this temporary position.”
“Excellent.” Gwen, cane in hand, headed for the door, but Lady Devon caught her arm gently.
“What if this goes too far? What if Venetia were to fall for him? You should be ready to face a brokenhearted grandchild should she become too attached.”
“I know, it is a risk. But Venetia is a highborn lady. She knows she cannot marry below her station. I shall be ready to face the consequences, whatever they may be.”
“So long as you are prepared,” Lady Devon said.
Indeed, Gwen was prepared. She had seen desire for a man in Venetia’s eyes for the first time, and depending on what she could uncover about this young footman, perhaps . . .
But no. Venetia could never marry a man who was a servant. Society would shun her, and any children she might bear would suffer greatly. Still, Gwen had always loved to break the rules. Perhaps her granddaughter would be brave enough to do the same.
4
“Adrian, Mr. Reeves is looking for you,” Benjamin called out as Adrian finished drying off and brushing his coat. He had managed to use the flat iron to press the wrinkles from the rain out of the fabric, but it still smelled vaguely of a rainy field. Not an unpleasant scent, but it was noticeable, and Mr. Reeves would certainly be displeased with that.
“Did you say Mr. Reeves is looking for me?” he asked.
“Yes. You are to report to his office.” Benjamin paused as he carried a tray of sandwiches past him toward the servants’ stairs that led up to the main part of the house.
Adrian had an uncomfortable feeling about this. “What for?”
“I have no idea, but he is waiting for you.”
Adrian stole a bite of turkey and porridge before he headed to reach Mr. Reeves’s office and knocked.
“Come in,” Mr. Reeves said.
Adrian slipped in and closed the door behind him only to freeze at the sight of Lady Devon standing next to the butler.
“Adrian, thank you for coming.” The duchess beamed at him. Surely her smile meant he wasn’t about to be tossed out.
He bowed his head. “Your ladyship.”
“Adrian, I’ve spoken with her ladyship, and she wishes for you to have a special duty during the house party.”
“A special duty, sir?” Adrian couldn’t imagine what the butler was talking about.
Lady Devon laid a hand on Mr. Reeves’s arm and spoke to Adrian directly.
“Lady Venetia has a terribly swollen ankle and must be resting in bed. Her grandmother, Lady Latham, has expressed her desire for you to attend to her this week.”
“Yes, your ladyship,” Adrian replied without thinking, stunned by the request. “What would my exact duties be?”
“Bring her meals, see that she has everything she needs.” The duchess hesitated before turning to the butler. “Reeves, would you mind letting me have a moment alone with Adrian?”
The old butler squared his shoulders. “Of course, my lady.” He bowed to her and arched a brow at Adrian before he left the room.
When the door closed, the duchess sighed. “I know this request is quite unconventional.”
Adrian had been taught to hold his tongue, but he had questions that needed answers. “Pardon me, your ladyship, but does this have to do with the conversation from earlier today? I did not mean to overhear.”
“Yes,” the duchess said, and she actually relaxed. “I know it must have been impossible not to hear Lady Latham and her . . . unusual comments. Yes, I’m glad to speak freely of it. The truth is, Lady Venetia does need a bit of . . . Oh heavens, the word experience sounds very improper, but I suppose it is the most apt. She has been quite sheltered, not intellectually but romantically. And she is in need of a husband, and soon. It is important that she learns what a good man has to offer so she might know what to look for when choosing one. Lady Latham and I agree that you would suit very well for Venetia to have some interaction without the burden of the social situation.” Lady Devon clasped her hands together. “Is it terrible to ask this of you?”
Adrian found a smile forming on his lips. “You’ve asked me to spend the week with a lovely and kind young woman. I do not see any hardship in the request and would be happy to do whatever you wish.”
Lady Devon sighed in relief. “Thank you. I will make sure Reeves is made aware of how pleased you have made me.”
“Thank you, your ladyship.”
Adrian waited for the duchess to leave the room first, and then he followed her. Mr. Reeves was hovering in the corridor, scowling.
“So, you are to attend to Lady Venetia?”
“To be a companion of sorts, yes.”
The butler harrumphed and muttered darkly about the impropriety of the entire situation, but Adrian knew the man wasn’t angry with him.
“Well, let’s start you off then. Go and see if Mrs. Webster has a tray of food and take it up to Lady Venetia’s chambers.”
“Yes, sir.”
Adrian went to the kitchens, collected the tray, and began the long climb up the servants’ stairs to the second floor, where Lady Venetia was resting. He knocked on her door, and her lady’s maid, Phoebe, was already frowning at him.
“They sent you to entertain her, did they?”
“Er . . . Yes, I suppose.”
“Well, you’d better come in, then.”
“Who is it, Phoebe?” Venetia asked.
“Your footman.” Phoebe took the tray from him and set it down on the table, leaving Adrian unsure of himself. He stayed just inside the door.
“Phoebe, would you see how Gran is doing? I worry when I cannot see her.”
“My lady, I do not think I should leave you alone.”
“Please, Phoebe. I will be fine.”
&
nbsp; Phoebe gave Adrian an I am watching your every move scowl and left the bedchamber.
“Please forgive her. Phoebe is most protective of me. She has been my maid since I was fifteen.”
“I understand, my lady.”
“Venetia. Won’t you please call me that? Since my grandmother has made you come to attend me, could we not have a friendship during this week? It would do much to alleviate my guilt about taking you away from your other duties.”
She shifted beneath the bed’s counterpane, and Adrian became all too aware that this beautiful lady lying in bed in her underclothes was only a few feet from him. The thought made every muscle in his body tense.
“Would you please sit?” She sounded almost like she was begging.
Adrian relaxed, but only a little. He took a seat in the chair by the bed, completely unsure of himself in this situation.
“Heavens, this is terribly awkward, isn’t it? Perhaps you could tell me a joke?”
“A joke?”
“Yes, something amusing. Laughter is good medicine for awkward moments.”
Adrian was able to admire her tousled blonde hair, a rich honey gold, as she sat up. Whoever had the good fortune to marry this woman would be gifted with such a sight every day. A flash of sudden and almost violent jealousy filled him toward this husband who did not yet even exist.
“I’m afraid I don’t know any jokes,” he replied. “I’m a rather serious type.”
“Oh dear, I see that you are.” She giggled, and the delightful sound made him smile. “There. You can smile at least. My maid, Phoebe, says you are like Lord Byron. I rather agree.”
“Should I be complimented or insulted by the comparison?”
“I’m sure Phoebe meant it as an insult. But from me, it is a compliment to be sure.”
Adrian relaxed a little more. Conversation with the lady was not as hard as he’d imagined. With the other servants, conversation was easy. They all had the same sort of lives: endless work, the need to be quiet, respectful, and, as much as they could, invisible. But a lady like Venetia was born to be on display. Her every look, action, and piece of clothing was a carefully constructed visual statement.
Tempting the Footman: The House of Devon Book 5 Page 4
