Free Her Beguiling Butler by Cerise DeLand Page A

but soon relented and allowed her to borrow a few from her library.
    “A woman must know what one is about, I always say,” she’d handed them over. “Best to return them to me when you are finished.”
    When Alicia had arched a brow in question, Hortense replied that she did not think Ranford would appreciate such in his house. He’d consider them material to lock her away.
    Agreeing that she needed nothing to pique Ranford’s interest in her new found independence, Alicia had handed them over after she had virtually memorized the texts and could envision the drawings with her eyes closed.
    Informative, they had titillated and inspired her. Sadly for Ranford, they inspired her to confront him with his marital shortcomings, physical, emotional and even financial. He had not liked it, to the point where he stayed away from her. And that was wonderful freedom. She dared to daydream of a lover worthy of her own longings. Though she had not wished him dead and gone, Providence had aided her and within a few months she was to emerge from her cocoon and find a new delight in her life. With the man who was her butler—and yet was not.
    Facing Finnley, she bit her lower lip. “I hope the snow will stop soon.”
    He pulled fur blanket closer up over her shoulders. “We’ll make the service. Never fear.”
    “Do you think any of the servants suspect us of running off together?” She curled her lips in humor.
    “I hope not.” He hugged her to him, the heat from his body a comforting lure.
    “Your idea to join me in the carriage on Oxford Street was superb. Thank you for this. We are well and warm and you aid me to say my farewell to a lady whom I adored. Your presence eases my mind and our journey.” She slid closer to him, her hip tight against his, her hand clasping his in the hollow of her lap. Good place for his hand. She shivered at the expectation of how he might touch her there without layers of coat and dress and petticoat and chemise between them.
    She’d lead him on to what she wished to learn about him. “Have you traveled in Kent often?”
    He frowned down at her and smoothed tendrils of her hair from her cheek. He was so tender, his fingertips touched her like angels wings. “Last year more than before.”
    “Why was that?” she asked in her most nonchalant tone.
    “I had a relative here who invited me to visit.”
    Hmm. He would not tell her who that relative was. Secretive, again. “Did you stay long?”
    He shifted his gaze out the window. Then reached over to pull the oil shade down. “A fortnight.”
    “Where?”
    “Dover.”
    “Oh, well, then. Not far from Sevenoaks. Have you been to that town before?”
    “Once on my through with my regiment after Waterloo. What was left of my regiment. We lost so many. More than half.”
    “Did you leave the Army after that?”
    “I did. I had no stomach for it any longer.”
    “And what did you do afterward?”
    “Worked with the Home Office. Then went to the Marine force on the docks. My regimental commander during the wars took a position there to track stolen goods from ships and warehouses. I helped him detect those responsible and put them in gaol.”
    She stared at him.
    And he shifted. Looked sheepish. As if he’d told her a fact she should not know.
    “You did not tell me this.”
    “No.” He raised the fur throw higher against her shoulders.
    “Are you ashamed of it?”
    “What? No. Not at all.”
    “Why not tell me? It is unusual, to say the least. And I would have been intrigued to think that my very own butler had served to capture thieves and murderers. Imagine.”
    “Most would not want a man like that in their house. They’d turn him away.”
    “Is that why you did not tell me? You thought that I would not hire you?”
    “Yes. Most in the ton do not wish to know anyone concerned with crime. Not Bow Street Runners. Not the Marine force.”
    Intriguing. “I think such men must be courageous and smart.”
    He gave her a