Free An Earl Like No Other by Wilma Counts Page B

to find a book—I shall leave you in peace.”
    He sank back down. “No. No. By all means—” He gestured to the laden shelves. “I’m afraid the books are not well organized. What might you be interested in? Aunt Elinor has some novels over there by the window.”
    â€œBut I thought she—”
    â€œShe has a friend who reads to her. I do sometimes as well.”
    â€œOh. A novel would defeat my purpose,” she said with a laugh. “I’d be awake all night to find out what happens next. I thought maybe some poetry—”
    â€œTo the left of the fireplace.”
    They were both silent as she surveyed the shelves he indicated. She felt his eyes on her as she did so and was acutely aware of the impropriety of her being here with him at this hour, dressed as she was. Strangely enough, she did not feel uncomfortable, though.
    She took two books from the shelves.
    â€œAh, you found something.”
    â€œBlake and Wordsworth. Both favorites of mine.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “Really? I should not think there are many housekeepers whose tastes run to those two poets.”
    â€œI suppose there is no accounting for taste,” she said, but mentally kicked herself for stepping out of the conventional housekeeper mold.
    â€œNo, I don’t suppose there is.”
    â€œGood night, my lord. And—thank you.”
    He had waved a hand as she made her escape.
    Now she added to the Mortimer women, “You must know that I came here only a few days ago.”
    â€œYes, I had heard that,” Miss Mortimer said. “I also heard that he found you in London after rejecting local women for the post—older women, that is. You have a son, have you not?”
    Kate did not like the other woman’s tone, but she answered quietly. “I do.”
    Miss Mortimer raised one brow. “But . . . no husband?”
    â€œMy husband died at Toulouse,” Kate said shortly.
    â€œHow sad,” the older woman murmured with a glance at her daughter, whose brow was still raised in skepticism.
    Kate changed the subject. “Much of the house is closed, as I told you, but I will show you the ballroom and the gallery, if you like.”
    As she opened the gold velvet drapes, she apologized for the chill air in the ballroom and said a silent thank you for its having been dusted and aired out the day before, though Holland covers still shrouded the furniture along the walls. Mirrors along one wall reflected light from French doors opposite, which led to a large balcony. Two elaborate chandeliers would provide ample lighting at night. A painted ceiling depicted classical scenes of pastoral happiness.
    Miss Mortimer skipped to the center of the room and whirled herself in an elaborate spin. “Oh! This is marvelous!” she gushed. “We must have a ball here, Mama.”
    Her mother frowned slightly and chided, “Yes, dear. You might suggest as much to his lordship.”
    â€œCan you not just see this room full of distinguished guests—all waiting anxiously for an important announcement?” Miss Mortimer swished her skirt in another spin about the room.
    â€œI believe the green and gold decor is original,” Kate offered. “The room is patterned after the ballroom at the Palace of Versailles, though this one is square, whereas the one at Versailles is a long gallery.”
    Something in Kate’s tone seemed to have arrested the other young woman’s attention. “You’ve been to Versailles?”
    Kate could have kicked herself, but she answered honestly. “Yes. With my husband. During a temporary peace, which, unfortunately, did not last long.”
    â€œOh.” Miss Mortimer gestured dismissively. “I do not keep up with politics. I am perfectly content to leave that subject to the gentlemen.”
    Who usually make a royal mess of things, Kate thought, but she bit her tongue against saying this