Free The Game and the Governess by Kate Noble

than what he had been given. But that was incidental, not worthy of comment. That was something that Ned was determined to smile at and say, “Brilliant! Marvelous!”
    Danson, his mournful valet, looked up from where he was polishing Ned’s favorite pair of boots.
    “Why are you polishing my boots?” Ned asked. “I certainly can’t wear them. And Turner’s feet would not fit in them.”
    “Just because you have decided to subject yourself to this strange social experiment does not require my standards for your clothing to fall—whether or not you are in a position to wear them.” Danson’s dry response was typical of his valet. Its consistency was almostcomforting. “Dare I hope you have forgone this terrible idea and come to your senses?”
    “Not yet, Danson. I am glad you take such care with my clothes. Now, if we could address my person, I would greatly appreciate it.”
    “Whatever are you referring to, my lord?” Danson replied archly. “Oh, I mean Mr. Turner.”
    “I mean I sent a maid to fetch you to me.”
    “I was so informed by a maid, yes.”
    “So . . .”
    “So, my first task was to see the earl settled. I could not come and consult with the earl’s secretary until that was done.” Danson finished with the boots and placed them in a spacious wardrobe.
    “I am sure the boots that neither of us can wear could wait.”
    “Indeed. I, on the other hand, do not have your certainty. Sir.”
    Ned sighed. He knew Danson’s reservations about this wager. But he thought his valet had vented his trickle of spleen before they left. Now it seemed that the trickle was more of a steady river.
    “Regardless, I am here for your assistance. I rode all the way from Peterborough this morning, and need to bathe before supper tonight.”
    Danson took a deep sniff. “I agree with your assessment, sir.”
    “Well . . . ?”
    “Well?” Danson replied.
    “Well, if you could see to my bath, I would be ever so grateful.”
    “I believe you told me before we left Peterborough that I was to lower myself to serve Mr. Turner as I would you, and to treat you as I would Mr. Turner,” Danson said, trying to hide a smile. “I have never ordered a bath for Mr. Turner.”
    Brilliant. Marvelous .
    “Still. In this instance, if you could take pity on me . . .”
    Danson sighed. “Certainly, sir. The bath has been drawn. I will show you to the bathing room.”
    Danson produced a towel from a drawer and led Ned out into the hall.
    It was not surprising that Puffington Arms utilized a bathing room. Among all the decorative changes wrought by Lady Widcoate, this at least was a functional one. The bathing room was tiled, with special access to the kitchens below, where water was being heated and brought up for the bather’s pleasure.
    However, Ned was not accustomed to sharing a bathing room. He was simply used to the convenience of the personal bathing room he had in his London house, right next to his master suite.
    But no matter! Sharing a bathing room was no trouble.
    Sharing his bathwater, on the other hand, was a bit more disturbing.
    “Danson,” he asked as the door to the bathing room closed behind them, “what is that?”
    “That is your bath, sir.”
    “But the water is . . .” Cloudy. Dirty. Soapy. “Used.”
    “Of course it is,” Danson replied. “The earl had his bath first, as is his due. Followed by Sir Nathan, and then the two little children.”
    “So I am bathing after four other people?”
    “This is good fortune, sir—most of the ladies performed their ablutions this morning, readying themselves for your arrival.” Ned’s face must have been somewhat telling, because Danson leaned in and whispered, “You cannot expect the house to go through the time and expense of preparing a bath for just you, Mr. Turner. ”
    Ned met Danson’s gaze, but his valet very politely took a step back, with a gesture to help Ned disrobe and step into the milky water of the