Free As Rich as a Rogue by Jade Lee Page B

and worn by a married woman with two nearly grown girls. Eminently proper, but apparently the dowagers didn’t agree. She was about to express that she admired the gown, but Lady Mary spoke first. “Mari dear, will you pick up my shawl? It seems to have fallen, and Lily will step on it before long.”
    â€œOf course—”
    â€œI wouldn’t step on it if it wasn’t always underfoot.” An aged hand clutched at her elbow. “Would you mind getting us something to drink? I don’t know about these footmen. Not a one has come ’round to bring us refreshments. Most disgraceful.”
    Then they were back to being a Greek chorus, all nodding as they disparaged the staff at various parties dating back two score years.
    She left them to it, heading to the tepid punch. She would have to make several trips for all of them, but she was used to it by now. She was just considering whether she could manage a fourth full glass without spilling when they were all plucked from her arms by a set of large hands.
    â€œWhat—”
    â€œWhy the devil are you acting as a servant?” Lord Whitly’s expression was fierce, and his hair had gone even more askew than before.
    â€œI was getting drinks for the dowagers. They—”
    â€œI’m well aware of what you’re doing, but it’s not your job.”
    She huffed out a breath. “Of course it’s not my job, but they’re thirsty, and no one—”
    He snapped his fingers beneath one footman’s nose. “You will get a tray and serve every one of those ladies punch. And claret. And anything else they want. Do you understand?”
    â€œBut…but, sir…” The hapless man gestured to the punch bowl. Apparently his job was to pour lemonade.
    â€œWhat is your name, young man?”
    â€œThompson.”
    â€œWell, Thompson, I expect you are capable of figuring out how to have the lemonade bowl manned and get the ladies their drinks, are you not?”
    â€œEr, yes, sir.”
    â€œMy lord,” Mari corrected.
    â€œWhat?” The man turned widened eyes to her. Truly he was rather young, and she felt bad for putting him on the spot like this.
    â€œThis is Lord Whitly, young Thompson. And I shall stand here and explain the situation to anyone who asks. So do what you must to get the ladies served.”
    â€œYes, my lady.”
    She smiled at the boy, and he blushed all the way up through his ears. But then paled when Lord Whitly practically growled at him.
    â€œShe isn’t waiting long, Thompson. Go.”
    â€œOh! Yes, sir. Er, my lord. Um…”
    Lord Whitly bared his teeth and made shooing motions. The footman scampered away.
    â€œAnd that,” said Mari, “is why I gave up trying to get the servants to carry the drinks. You’ve not only frightened that poor boy—”
    â€œIf that frightens him, God help him if he ever sees battle.”
    She snorted, a most inelegant sound that she immediately regretted. “He’s a footman. He’s not likely to see battle. And now you’ve probably upset things below stairs. It’s a delicate balance down there.”
    â€œBollocks. They weren’t doing their job.”
    She sighed. “Have you been gone so long from London Society that you have forgotten everything? Or did you never pay any attention to it in the first place?”
    â€œYou think you will be the topic of conversation tomorrow for this?”
    â€œI do.”
    He frowned at her. “Very well, shall we make a wager on it?”
    â€œI am attempting to be circumspect.”
    â€œThis is a perfectly proper wager. If not a single word of gossip ensues from this dastardly lemonade bowl incident, then you shall walk with me in Hyde Park during the fashionable hour. I regret that we cannot go driving, as I have not yet purchased any type of conveyance.”
    â€œThat shall not be a problem, my lord, as you have no