Page 16 of One Day for a Valet

Christopher collected Gabriel’s shaving implements, chatting as he ran the razor across the strop with practiced strokes. “Shall I have Her Grace’s horse saddled and assign a groom to accompany her, or are we trusting Violet’s ability to follow the path of gnarled trees, beware signs, and decaying vines that lead to your mother? I suppose she’s not likely to miss the skeletons cast about in the branches.”

“I already sent Richard with her. I figured she would enjoy his company and his inquisitive mind. We may find ourselves in need of a search party by tea time when they incite one another to follow animal tracks in the opposite direction of the dower house.”

Gabriel was smiling, staring off as if his mind had similarly wandered away.

“I’d be stunned if she made it beyond the front garden. Surely you’ve exhausted her with bed sport by now.” Keene waggled his eyebrows.

“Speaking of athletic activities, I heard you turned my kitchens into a fencing arena?”

Christopher grabbed a fistful of the larger man’s banyan and pulled him into a chair. “I heard you scarcely made it through dinner before throwing the duchess over your shoulder and hauling her to the ducal suite.”

“Yes, well, you’re pilfering items to leave as gifts like a lovestruck starling.”

“While you take on livestock carpentry projects like a common farmhand.”

Gabriel raised his chin, eyes flicking to the blade in Christopher’s hand. “It’s better than passing notes to a girl like a schoolboy.”

Christopher grimaced. That does sound decidedly pathetic. “It wasn’t the kitchens. We duelled in the gardens like civilised people.”

Gabriel gave a curt nod. “And I didn’t throw the duchess over my shoulder … I carried her, as any gentleman would. Are you planning on shaving me with that anytime this morning, or shall I do it myself?”

Christopher began applying soap to Gabriel’s face with the soft beaver brush. “I will admit that my interest is piqued, but that’s all. She’s clearly in need of a friend.”

“Lying to your employer is grounds for dismissal.”

“I’m lying in the capacity of best friend at the moment, not employee.”

“Well, that makes it entirely acceptable,” Gabriel responded, unimpressed.

Choosing to ignore his sarcasm, Christopher nodded. “I thought as much.”

“Step lightly, Keene. Despite my wife’s ability to ignore a fishy situation, I cannot. I don’t want to see your good nature trodden upon. It’s one thing to help her feel welcome and another thing entirely to let her troubles become your own.”

Gabriel paused while Keene scraped the blade across the sensitive curve of his neck. “And try not to run her off with your enthusiasm, please. Nora and Violet like her, and even Zachariah seems tolerant of her presence. Christ only knows how we would find another governess to please all three Ansons again.”

“You may consider me appropriately warned by the Duke of Northam. And as for my friend, Gabriel, I’ll humour him as well. I will be careful.”

Gabriel nodded, relaxing in his chair, and Christopher returned his attention to removing a night’s growth from the chiselled angles of his face.

Christopher wasn’t looking for Miss Lioni, it was simply a fine day for a walk. If he happened to cross paths with the fiery governess and her charges, well, it would ease his mind to know her first day was going well. He altered his course towards the arbour and then stopped to listen, attempting to gauge their direction. The worst pirate impression Christopher had ever heard assaulted his ears, followed by a fit of giggling and some unknown phrase in Sofia’s lilting Italian tongue. She could read Debrett’s cover to cover and it would still be erotic.

The roses were in full bloom, and the petals littering the path softened Christopher’s steps. He came upon the trio just past the fountain at the centre of the garden. Nora and Sofia wore crude pirate costumes hastily stitched together from scraps of canvas and jute feed sacks. Nora clutched what he surmised was a treasure map. Zach stood nearby with an expression of baffled curiosity, garbed in ordinary clothes. Despite Christopher’s quiet approach, Sofia stilled, sensing the presence of a landlubber intruding upon their game.

“Who goes there! Argh!” Nora leapt towards Christopher, her stick-sword at the ready. “Spies be forced to walk the plank!”

"In Italiano, per favor!” Sofia chastised playfully with a soft swat from her “blade.”

“Chi va li! Gli inrusi cammineranno sul bastone!”

“That’s ‘walk on the stick,’ but close enough. I don’t suppose a duke’s daughter will have much need to demand that a gentleman walk the plank. Good morning, Mr Keene.” Her greeting was polite but cool.

“We’re learning maths, Italiano, and history all in one,” Nora exclaimed, shoving the map up to Christopher’s nose.

Christopher gave the parchment a quick but thorough once-over before allowing his gaze to stray back towards Sofia. She raised her eyepatch and perched it atop her tousled curls, a pretty blush spreading across her cheeks as she squirmed under his unabashed stare. He was certain he had never seen anything more adorable.

“Three squirrels, one stone,” Sofia said with a wink and a meaningful glance towards Zach. It took a moment for Christopher to wrap his mind around the phrase, but then he threw his head back and chuckled.

“That’s birds, Miss Lioni. You throw stones at birds, not squirrels,” Zach said quietly.