He flushed upon noticing Wentworth’s regard.
“My lord, you are staring—”
A hiccup stopped the rest of his words, and he giggled. Wentworth straightened in his seat when his valet glared at the decanter of brandy.
“What sorcery is this?” he muttered, seeming befuddled.
“You are not used to drinking,” Wentworth said slowly.
“I…ah…I’ve only indulged because you invited me to, my lord.” Then he smiled again. Except, this time, it was different. This smile was brighter, wider, without a hint of reserve. And even more interesting his entire face glowed with the beauty of that smile.
Wentworth’s heart jerked as the most improbable idea teased his thoughts. Not very gentlemanly of him, but he refilled the lad’s glass for a third time. “Come drink with me.”
“I really should go…and…go and prepare your bath,” his valet replied through a series of hiccups. Despite that protest, he reached for the drink and took a few healthy swallows. “I think they’ve stopped,” he said with a sigh of relief.
The lad pushed back his chair, stood, and wobbled. Wentworth surged to his feet and grabbed him about the shoulders to steady him. His valet peered up at him, and in his eyes, Wentworth saw an awareness, a touch of desire.
Wentworth released him as if he’d been burned. “Go,” he said from between clenched teeth. “No need to prepare a bath, and I do not need help to undress.”
The lad nodded, but he did not move. Instead, he sighed gutsily. “I feel warm,…and shivery. It is the oddest thing. I feel it every time I look at you.” He looked so young and vulnerable at that shocking confession.
“You are tipsy,” Wentworth said.
He made a soft, noncommittal sound. Julian lifted a hand and cupped Wentworth’s jaw. They both froze at the remarkable intimacy.
“You are so very handsome,” he whispered. “I should not notice it…I dare not notice it, but it seems I cannot help it.”
“Why do you not dare?” Wentworth demanded gruffly, feeling a bounder for taking advantage of the lad’s state. But how else could he assuage his curiosity when his valet was so forward?
“Because you are my employer, and such wayward thoughts might compromise my ruse.”
Good God. “What ruse?”
“I…” Alarm chased across his face. “I…I feel…” He paused and yawned widely. “I believe I need to get into bed.”
Wentworth gripped the lad’s hand, removed it from his face, and caught sight of the neatly manicured fingertips. The feel of his valet’s hand was soft and…bloody hell.
His valet was a woman. Wentworth did his best to hide the shock blasting through him.
Julian turned around and swayed, and Wentworth caught him and swung him into his arms.
“I feel like I am floating,” a soft voice said.
Sweet Mercy. The weight in his arms felt right…felt arousing.
He hesitated. To carry him like this up the servant stairs would have their tongues wagging for weeks and might make life uncomfortable for his valet for quite some time. Swiftly deciding, Wentworth left the study and made his way up the stairs to his chamber.
Once in his rooms, he lowered his valet in the center of his bed. A sigh of great comfort slipped from him…her, and she promptly fell asleep. Wentworth stared down at the creature before him, wondering if he was going mad. It was such a wild supposition to make. A lady disguised as a man and working as a valet. Utterly preposterous. Yet his thoughts would not move on from the idea.
His valet’s speech suggested a man educated, but most manservants were required reading and writing skills. He seemed too nervous around him. And that stroke against his jaw, it had hinted at a longing, of want.
“Perhaps I am going mad,” he muttered, cross with himself. It had been a simple touch to his face, how in God’s name did he decipher so much from that caress. “But a lady in the guise of a man would indeed summate to a ruse worth protecting.”
Peering down at the body on his bed, he detected no womanly shape. Bindings were not miraculous cloths. He sat on the edge of the bed and slowly undid the neckcloth. Wentworth allowed his fingers to tease at the buttons, battling the urge to undo them.
To take such advantage of his valet felt wrong, yet curiosity beat at him in unrelenting waves. He touched Julian’s chin, noting the soft, silky texture of his valet’s skin.
What if I should undo these buttons and find a woman…what would I do? A hot, urgent feeling coiled low in his gut, and he released a shaky breath. Bloody hell, his thoughts and urges were that of a damn scoundrel.
His valet batted his hand away and muttered, turning onto his side. Wentworth sighed. He had never behaved in an ungentlemanly fashion before. But he was tempted to do so now by rolling Julian over and removing his neckcloth and shirt to reveal what was underneath.
Surely there were other methods for finding out if his valet was really a woman pretending to be a gentleman. A burst of thrill went through him, and he stood and walked over to the small writing table and chair near the fire and sat.
Any sort of experiment tended to invigorate Wentworth’s blood. Retrieving one of his unused journals, he opened it, dipped the quill into the inkwell, and carefully outline his research with factual details.
Problem: I find my valet attractive, but I am not bent toward the opposite sex. His speech is well mannered and eloquent, showing education above that of a valet, and his mannerisms are effeminate.
Hypothesis: The valet is a lady in disguise.
Method: Whether in disguise or not, a lady should not be able to hide her reflex reactions. A campaign to shock the valet’s senses will be undertaken while observing her reactions to certain improprieties.
Have my valet aid me in my bath. A keen observation must be made when certain areas are being washed.
I shall engage my valet in conversation regarding the fairer sex.
I shall attempt to get remarkably close and try to steal a kiss. Any man or boy should recoil.
Predictions:I expect my valet should heavily blush and avoid eye contact, and faint or flee when faced with touching of any kind with a man. She should also have heavy uncontrolled breathing, an evident blush, and possibly a feminine fragrance when her personal space is invaded.
Analysis: I shall record my observations in a journal entry after each test.
Conclusion: If my valet is not a lady, I shall chalk up my reactions to the man’s rear as a lapse in judgment. However, if the man is indeed a woman, the question needs to be answered, why does a lady who seems to bear me no ill will need to disguise herself as my valet? And what am I to do about this stubborn attraction?
Chapter 5
Juliana stirred slowly awake, then sharply inhaled with awareness. The earl was in her chamber. She smelled his uniquely masculine fragrance. Juliana shifted, tugging the sheets closer to her nose and inhaled deeply. She jolted, and her eyes flew open. Her sheets were not this soft and sweetly scented, her mattress was not so comfortable! With a jolting sense of shock, Juliana realized she was in the earl’s chamber…and in his bed. She lurched upright, her heart pounding a fierce rhythm.
A quick glance revealed she was still dressed, but her boots had been removed, along with her jacket, and her neckcloth loosened. Oh! She swung her gaze wildly about the room, and then gasped, her hand fluttering to her chest.