Less Than a Gentleman

Edward made a face at her.

  Jane smiled. “Of course not, dear.”

  Betsy entered with a large covered platter in her hands. She set it on the sideboard and slowly approached Jane.

  “Where is the coffee?” Jane asked.

  “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but the coffee is coming.” Betsy shoved a strand of brown hair back from her face and glanced nervously toward the door. “The . . . the butler is bringing it.”

  Jane sat back. “Butler? But we haven’t had a butler since—”

  “Haversham,” Betsy interrupted. “ ’Tis Haversham, ma’am. He’s back.”

  Jane’s eyes widened. “From the dead?”

  A tall man strode into the room bearing a tray with a silver coffee service. “I’m feeling much better, thank you.”

  Jane gasped. Her hand fluttered at her throat. “Good Lord, what are you doing?”

  “Serving you as always, madam.” He set the tray on the sideboard with a clunk.

  Caroline wondered why Jane was so obviously agitated with the manservant. All she could see was his back, a straight back with broad shoulders. A white wig on his head made it difficult to estimate his age, but his bearing and determined stride suggested a young man. A very healthy young man.

  Jane pressed her hand to her chest. “This is outrageous.”

  “I agree, madam.” The butler advanced toward the table, the silver coffeepot clutched in his hand. “I was not informed that we have guests.”

  Not too young, Caroline thought. Close to thirty years, and not privileged ones at that. He had the tanned, stern features of a man who had dealt with hardship and survived. A strong man with a keen intelligence. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did. For some reason, all her senses had suddenly gone on alert. And her heart was thudding in her chest.

  The butler’s gaze circled the table and stopped briefly at Virginia. He tilted his head, apparently noticing her state of pregnancy. Immediately, he focused on Caroline.

  It was more than a simple look; it was an examination.

  She lowered her gaze to her hands as her heart pounded. Why would he stare? Unless . . .

  Could he be her assailant from last night? A penniless servant, the man had said. But this man was far from weak and humble. On the contrary, he exuded power and confidence.

  She ventured a peek. His uniform of pewter-blue velvet fit snugly. Too snugly. Long legs, strong thighs, trim waist. If memory served her correctly, the man last night had possessed similar attributes. Heat rushed to her face as she recalled the way he had pinned her beneath his body. His naked body.

  She lifted her gaze to the butler’s hands. It seemed odd for a manservant not to wear gloves. She noted his firm grip on the coffeepot. Was it the same hand that had circled her wrist and stroked her skin?

  Her gaze drifted past his broad shoulders to his face.

  He slowly smiled.

  He knows. Her cheeks blazed and she looked away. What should she do? Tell Jane that her butler accosted women in the middle of the night?

  “Are you planning to serve that coffee today?” Jane glared at him.

  “Yes, madam, forgive me.” He filled her cup before moving on to Edward to fill his.

  Edward, unaccustomed to coffee, gave his mother a questioning look.

  Caroline gripped her hands together, determined not to show any reaction when he approached her. She stared at the pink rosebuds on her china cup as he poured coffee into it. Surely he was standing closer than necessary. Her gaze drifted to his hand.

  Teeth marks, clear and red. She stiffened with a gasp. Good Lord, she’d really sunk her teeth into him.

  “Is something wrong?” He had completed his task, but remained standing close to her.

  “No.” Caroline turned away, determined to ignore him.

  “Miss Agatha Ludlow, I presume?”

  “Yes.”

  “Interesting.” He eased around her, too closely, and tilted the coffeepot over Charlotte’s cup.

  “My daughter doesn’t drink coffee,” Virginia said.

  “Oh. Of course.” The butler moved on to fill Virginia’s cup.

  “Haversham.” Jane observed him with a disapproving frown. “May I have a word with you in private?”

  “Later. I must attend to my duties first.”

  “I don’t like my name anymore,” Charlotte announced. “Can I change it, Mama?”

  With a wince, Virginia exchanged a frustrated look with Caroline.

  Jane smiled at the little girl. “What name did you have in mind, my dear?”

  Charlotte wrapped a glossy black curl around her finger while she considered, then perked up with a dimpled smile. “I want to be Princess of the World.”

  Edward snorted. “There’s no such thing, you bufflehead.”

  “You will apologize at once.” The butler’s voice was low, but commanding.

  Edward’s mouth dropped open.

  Haversham regarded the young boy with a grim expression. “A man does not insult a lady in such a fashion.”

  “She’s not a lady. She’s my sister.”

  Haversham cocked an eyebrow.

  Edward gulped. “I . . . I apologize.”

  Without a word, Haversham swiveled and returned to the sideboard.

  Caroline marveled at the butler’s effect on Edward. It hadn’t occurred to her ’til now that with Ginny’s husband gone, Edward would be in need of male guidance.

  And the butler was certainly male. Very male. She had pounded on those broad shoulders, felt his bare skin hot against her hands. She dragged her gaze off his strong back and vowed once again to ignore him. After all, the rascal attacked women in their beds. He was the last man on earth who should be lecturing Edward on how to treat a lady.

  “I think Charlotte is a lovely name,” Jane said.

  “I used to like it,” Charlotte explained. “I was named after Charles Town because I was born there. But I don’t like it now because the bad British men came and burned our house.”

  “I see.” Jane nodded. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll chase them away soon enough.”

  Sugar bowl in hand, Haversham approached the table. He strode straight to Caroline and set the bowl beside her. “Sugar,” he whispered.

  His voice tickled the back of her neck. She refused to acknowledge him and spooned sugar into her coffee. Then she passed it on to Edward.

  Haversham returned to the sideboard.

  “All the ladies in my family are named after the place they were born,” Charlotte continued. “My mother was born in the conoly . . . colony of Virginia.”

  Caroline winced and nudged Charlotte with her foot.

  Her niece looked at her. “Didn’t I say it right?”

  Haversham paced straight toward her, a creamer in his hand. “And where, pray tell, is the colony of Agatha?”

  Caroline lifted her chin. “There is a small town that bears the name.”

  “Indeed?” He stopped next to her.

  “The town is in a very remote place. No one’s ever heard of it.”

  He remained standing there, close to her elbow. She considered elbowing him firmly in the groin, but decided not to give his body parts further thought. He leaned over and set the creamer beside her plate.

  She dared a glimpse at his face.

  He appeared to be focused on the low-cut bodice of her gown. Her cheeks heated up. The scoundrel! She should have elbowed him.

  His eyes met hers. “Cream,” he whispered.

  She sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. Blast the man! How could his eyes be such an angelic shade of blue when he was clearly far from innocent?

  Jane cleared her throat. “Haversham, will you get on with it, please?”

  “Yes, madam.” He returned to the sideboard.

  B
etsy removed the cover from the tray she had brought in. Steam rose from a heap of scrambled eggs and bacon.

  “I’ll take it.” Haversham plunked a serving spoon on top of the food and brought the tray to the table.

  He set it next to Jane.

  She gave him a wry look. “How do you explain your remarkable recovery, Haversham? I could have sworn you were ready for the grave.”

  “A restorative, madam, from Miss Dottie.” He spooned eggs onto her plate.

  Standing at the sideboard, Betsy smothered a giggle with her hand.

  “Really?” Jane asked. “It must have been very powerful.”

  “Indeed. I daresay I feel like a new man.” Haversham hesitated with the spoon poised over the bacon. He set the spoon down, grasped some bacon in his hand, and tossed the slices onto Jane’s plate.

  Charlotte giggled, then stopped when her mother gave her an ominous look.

  Jane heaved a resigned sigh.

  The butler picked up the tray and proceeded to a smiling Edward.

  “Godsookers.” Edward peered at the man’s hand. “Did something bite you?”

  Caroline sank deeper into her chair. Would they notice if she completed her meal under the table?

  Using the spoon, Haversham piled eggs onto Edward’s plate. “I was attacked last night by a wild creature.”

  Edward’s eyes widened. “What kind of creature?”

  The butler tossed bacon onto the boy’s plate. “A vixen, the red-haired variety.”

  Caroline eased her fingers around her fork.

  “What’s a vixen?” Charlotte asked.

  “A female fox,” Edward answered. “How could you tell it was female?”

  With the hint of a smile, Haversham brought the tray to Caroline. “She wiggled like a female. In all the right places.”

  She raised the fork in her clenched fist and gave him a look of warning.

  The glint of amusement in his eyes told her he was unaffected by her threat. He spooned eggs onto her plate.

  “Oh, I love foxes,” Charlotte announced. “I like their bushy red tails.”

  His mouth twitched. “Indeed.”

  Caroline aimed close to his hand and stabbed a slice of bacon with her fork. He didn’t flinch, blast him. “As for myself, I can hardly sleep at night for fear of being rudely awakened and attacked by a loathsome pest.”

  Haversham dropped two more slices of bacon onto her plate. “How about a lovable pest?”

  She gave him an icy glare. “I could never consider an annoying bedbug to be lovable.”

  “Then you should try a man.”

  Her mind went blank. Unable to think of a reply, she realized she was even finding it difficult to breathe. His blue eyes remained steadfastly focused on her face.

  Jane’s voice sounded strained. “That is enough, Haversham.”

  “Yes, madam.” He moved on to Charlotte and ladled eggs onto her plate.

  “I don’t like eggs very much,” Charlotte mumbled.

  He placed bacon on her plate. “Breakfast is good for you, Princess of the World.”

  With a giggle, Charlotte grabbed her fork and dug into the eggs.

  Virginia smiled at her daughter, then glanced at Caroline with a questioning look.

  Caroline knew her sister was wondering about her behavior with the butler. She’d have to explain later. If she could. Meanwhile, Haversham heaped eggs onto her sister’s plate.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Virginia said, grimacing at the huge pile of eggs before her. “I meant to tell you. I’m unable to eat eggs in my condition. They don’t agree with me. But I’ll have some bacon, if you don’t mind.”

  Haversham paused as if uncertain what to do. Then he picked up Virginia’s plate and dumped the eggs back on the tray.

  The children giggled.

  Jane rubbed her forehead. “That is enough, Haversham. You and Betsy may leave us now.”

  Frowning, he deposited bacon strips on Virginia’s plate. Without a word he pivoted and left the room. Betsy grabbed the tray’s cover and darted after him.

  After a few bites, Jane scraped back her chair and stood. “Please continue without me. I have a matter I must attend to.” She exited the room.

  “I think she’s mad at the butler,” Charlotte whispered.

  “Do you think she’ll give him the sack?” Edward asked.

  “I hope not.” Charlotte munched on a piece of bacon. “I like him.”

  Caroline pushed her eggs around the plate. “He’s a demented buffoon.”

  Virginia leaned toward her. “Is there something going on between you and him?”

  “No. I have no interest in him whatsoever.”

  Frowning, Virginia picked up a slice of bacon. “You seem to be forming a bad habit of late.”

  Caroline reached for her coffee cup. “What habit would that be?”

  “Lying.”

  The cup slipped in her hand, splashing coffee onto the pink rosebuds of the matching saucer.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “What on earth are you doing, Matthias?”

  “Eating breakfast.” He stuffed the serving spoon, full of eggs, in his mouth.

  “I don’t mean now.” His mother stood in the kitchen doorway, glaring at him. “I mean that ridiculous charade of yours in the parlor. Whatever possessed you?”

  “Must have been the ghost of Haversham.” He pointed the spoon at the breakfast tray. “Betsy, do you want any of this?”

  She shook her head. “I already ate.”

  Dottie chuckled as she scrubbed a pot. Matthias spooned more eggs into his mouth.

  His mother strode into the kitchen. “I expect an explanation.”

  He nodded as he chewed.

  With a sigh, his mother removed his white wig. “You make a terrible butler.”

  “Hmm? I served the food, didn’t I?”

  “You were arrogant and insolent.”

  He shrugged. “Positive traits for a butler.”

  “You insulted my guests.”

  “They deserve to be insulted. They’re liars.”

  She dropped his wig onto the table next to the breakfast tray. “You’re the one lying, Matthias. Pretending to be Haversham, of all people. A sham, indeed.”

  “It was the only uniform that fit.” He brushed off a velvet sleeve. “I thought I carried it off very well. What do you think, Betsy?”

  She exchanged a grin with Dottie.

  His mother’s wry expression made it clear she disagreed. “I thought you were leaving at dawn. Why are you still here?”

  He bit off a piece of bacon. “Has my welcome run out so soon? I’m devastated.”

  “You would be most welcome if you behaved yourself.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll slink back into the swamp as soon as I finish eating. But before I go, let me tell you about the redheaded vixen in there with the sharp little teeth.”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” Jane waved a hand in dismissal and headed back to the door. “She’s been through enough hardship. Someone robbed them on the way here. And the poor girl must have suffered a terrible fright last night when you—you—whatever you did to her.”

  “I did nothing! Nothing happened.”

  Jane paused at the door. “Then why did she feel the need to bite you? That is hardly the ideal beginning of a courtship.”

  “I’m not courting that fiery little hellcat!”

  “I say you are. I like her.” Jane stepped outside.

  “How can you like her?” Matt grabbed another slice of bacon and paced after his mother. “She’s a liar.”

  “She’s a pretty, intelligent, well mannered—”

  “Liar,” he repeated. “She is not Agatha Ludlow.”

  “Fine.” His mother swiveled to face him. “You d
idn’t want Agatha anyway. Perhaps this one will suit you.”

  “You would saddle me with a deceitful wife?”

  “She’s trying to protect her family. She’s willing to do anything for them, even if the price is a betrothal to a total stranger. I believe her ability to love that deeply makes her an excellent choice for a wife.”

  He blinked with a sudden realization and pointed his bacon strip at her. “You’re not surprised, are you? You knew all along she wasn’t Agatha?”

  Jane shrugged. “I suspected.”

  “Why didn’t you demand the truth?”

  “She’s a guest. It would be rude to ask if she were lying.”

  He laughed. “So you plan to let her manipulate you?”

  His mother frowned at him. “I do not feel manipulated, Matthias. Not when I know the truth.”

  “You don’t know who she is.”

  “I don’t care. I’m enjoying their company. I’ve been alone here for six months.” Jane narrowed her eyes. “Do you understand how lonely I am?”

  “I’m beginning to. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sure she’ll tell me the truth once she learns to trust me. She’s not a very good liar.”

  He snorted and muttered, “She’s one hell of a biter.”

  “That would be a desirable quality in a wife, don’t you think?”

  “Sharp teeth?”

  “No! Pay attention.” His mother swatted his arm. “It would behoove you to have a wife who is a poor liar.”

  “Well, I think I’d rather have one who didn’t lie at all.” He jammed the rest of the bacon in his mouth.

  Jane smiled. “You couldn’t take your eyes off of her.”

  “I had to look at her to make sure she wasn’t Agatha.”

  “Ah. Are they similar in appearance?”

  “No. Agatha’s somewhat pretty, but this one—” He stopped himself when he noticed the gleam in his mother’s eye. “I’ve seen possums that are more appealing.”

  She swatted him again. “I expect you to be cordial to her.”

  “I won’t be here. I have business to take care of.”

  His mother sighed, then stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Very well, Matthias. Be careful, please.”

  “I will.”

  “And one more thing, Haversham.” She headed back to the Great House.