He wondered how she had managed to earn their loyalty so quickly. Not only had his new nurse invaded his only remaining sanctuary, she had enlisted his own servants to lead the charge.
"And you were kind enough to volunteer for the task. Then you should be able to dress yourself without the aid of a manservant." Before his nurse could offer some cheery explanation for his presence there, Beckwith said, "Since you don't wish to have a valet hovering over you, my lord, Miss Wickersham suggested that we group your clothing according to type and color. Shuffling steps informed him that the butler had come creeping out of the dressing room. The rustling ceased, fading to stony silence.
A very plump, balding rat, wearing a waistcoat. As he exhaled, he heard a rustling from the direction of his dressing room like the sound a rat might make. Gabriel took a deep breath - a breath poisoned by the sweet tang of lemon verbena and laundry starch. The splash of water and the brisk flapping of sheets confirmed her claims. And dear Millie is dusting your sitting room." Philpot and Meg are out in the yard airing out your bed hangings. "Surely you didn't expect me to do all the work by myself! Peter and Phillip are preparing your morning bath while Elsie and Hannah change the linens on your bed. "We?" he repeated ominously, wondering just how many witnesses there were going to be to her murder. "I thought we'd air out your chambers while you were downstairs at breakfast." "I hope you don't mind the intrusion," she said. He took one tentative step forward, then another, robbed of his confidence by the treacherous warmth of the sunlight on his face, the gentle breeze caressing his brow, the melodic chirping of some bird perched just outside the open window of his bedchamber. "And a good morning to you, Miss Wickersham," he replied through gritted teeth. Gabriel recoiled, fearing that in his haste he'd taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way.Ī cheery voice sang out, "Good morning, my lord!" But when he reached for the ornately carved mahogany door that led to the master bedchamber, his hands met only air.
He ate hastily and with even less finesse than usual, hoping to make it back to the haven of his bed-chamber before his overbearing nurse could come springing out at him.Īfter swiping the grease from his mouth with a corner of the table linens, he went hurrying back up the stairs. To his surprise, he was allowed to breakfast in peace without anyone critiquing his table manners or his attire. He cautiously followed them to the dining room, wondering just where Miss Wickersham might be lurking. When Gabriel emerged from his bedchamber the next morning, desperate for a brief respite from his own company, his suspicious sniffing yielded only the mingled aromas of bacon and chocolate. Dare I hope that you would allow me to woo you with honeyed words?
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