Free A Fine Caprice - A Regency Romance by Kate Harper

there were so few servants. What kind of place only had two servants , anyway? ‘I’ll manage.’
    She had taken three steps towards the door when he spoke again, voice abrupt. ‘ Jem? If you’re not in any hurry to take up your new position, perhaps you wouldn’t mind working for me for a few days?’
    Caprice turned around slowl y, fighting an urge to raise an eyebrow of her own . ‘You need a stableboy?’ Actually, from the look of the stables, he probably needed several .
    ‘Not a stableboy, no. I nee d an extra set of eyes. Intelligent ones.’ He tilted his head, regarding her with that same intensity that had brought on that initial rush of bodily heat. What a very… focussed gentleman he was. She had caught an underlying sense of tension from him ben eath that polished , nonchalant ve neer and wondered what his situation was. ‘You certainly seem intelligent enough. Would you like to make some coin?’
    ‘What would you want me to do?’ she asked slowly, wondering what on earth he could possibly want with the likes of Jem Morris? And how she was going to gracefully say no. He had already intimated that there were no live in servants so he might be after some willing staff. If the state of the place were anything to go by, that seemed entirely likely. But surely he wouldn’t want her to scrub and clean? He could hire any number of women for that for there was probably a village nearby .
    ‘That requires some explanation, one that can probably wait until morning. Why don’t you -’
    ‘Merridew? Is that you?’
    The high, rather querulous voice came from the hallway, startling them both. Caprice heard a quick, soft curse but a sharp glance at his lordship’s face found it impassive . ‘In here, Hadley,’ he drawled. ‘Dear me, did we wake you?’
    ‘I heard the sound of a commotion, ’ and then, ‘w e ?’ A figure, a very startling, rather ridiculous figure, appeared in the doorway and Caprice blinked as she took in the new arrival . The gentleman was wearing a padded silk dressing gown of a particularly virulent shade of puce, gold braiding secured by jewelled toggles fasten ing it. This dressing gown, coupled with a pair of matching slippers that curled upwards at the toes a la Arabian Nights, made the outfit the most peculiar that Caprice had ever seen and she gawped at the tall, slender creature in the doorway incredulously. He looked around, exp ression one of supercilious enquiry and this was immediately reinforced when he raised the quizzing glass he was holding to stare at her for a long moment , before directing his gaze to the broken pieces of plate on the floor . He dropped it lan guidly. ‘Has there been an accident ?’ he mused, tone reflective.
    ‘A plate fell off the sideboard. Nothing of any consequence.’
    The gentleman’s eyes wandered around the room with distaste. ‘ Hardly unexpected , all things considered . What a jay our dearest uncle was.’ His eyes returned to Caprice . ‘And j ust who do we have here?’
    Like his outfit , the new arrivals voice was affected, each vowel painfully compressed in to a kind of lisping drawl . Surely , Caprice thought with considerable amazement , the man standing before her must be the heigh t of fashion in London for there was no other explanation for him dressing in such a way. Certainly the fellow could not possibly hale from the country but must have come from somewhere far more cosmopolitan. Europe, at the very least, if not from even more foreign climes. His thin , bon y face did not possess the good looks of Lord Merridew but instead seemed to wear an expression of deep-seated hauteur, as if he knew his own worth far better than the world around him ever could and would be happy to share this opinion if asked. T he lines around his mouth seemed to suggest that he sneer ed frequently .
    Caprice took an immediate dislike to him.
    ‘My ser vant, newly arrived from London , Ravener, ’ his lordship said easily. ‘He got lost