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Authors: Grace Burrowes
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appreciates our contributions to this great land, and then resume his afternoon’s entertainments.”
“But you cannot refuse to go,” Anna said, taking a guess, “for it is a great honor, and so on.”
“It is a tiresome damned pain in my arse,” the earl groused. “You have no wedding ring, Mrs. Seaton, nor does your finger look to have ever been graced by one.”
“Since I have no husband at present,” Anna said, retrieving her hand, “a ring is understandably absent also.”
“Who was this grandfather,” the earl asked, “the one who taught you how to do Tolliver’s job while smelling a great deal better than Tolliver?”
“My paternal grandfather raised me, more or less from childhood on,” Anna said, knowing the truthwould serve up to a point. “He was a florist and a perfumer and a very good man.”
“Hence the flowers throughout my humble abode. Don’t take off too much,” he directed. “I prefer not to look newly shorn.”
“You have no time for this,” Anna said, hazarding another guess as she snipped carefully to trim up the curling hair at his nape. She’d snip, snip then brush the trimmings from his bare shoulders. It went like that, snip, snip, brush until she leaned up and blew gently on his nape instead, then resumed snipping.
When she leaned in again, she caught the scent of his woodsy, spicy cologne. The fragrance and putting her mouth just a few inches from his exposed nape left her insides with an odd, fluttery disconcerted feeling. She lingered behind him, hoping her blush was subsiding as she finished her task. “There.” This time she brushed her fingers over his neck several more times. “I believe you are presentable, or your hair is.”
“The rest of me is yet underdressed.” He held out his hand for the scissors. “Now where is my damned shirt?”
She handed him his damned shirt and would have turned to go, except his cravat had also sprouted wings and flown off to an obscure location on the door of his wardrobe, followed by his cuff links, and stickpin, and so forth. When he started muttering that neck-cloths were altogether inane in the blistering heat, she gently pushed his fingers aside and put both hands on his shoulders.
“Steady on.” She looked him right in the eye. “It’s only a silly committee, and you need only leave a bankdraft then be about your day. How elegant do you want to look?”
“I want to look as plain as I can without being a Quaker,” the earl said. “My father loves this sort of thing, back-slapping, trading stories, and haggling politics.”
Anna finished a simple, elegant knot and took the stickpin from the earl’s hand. “Once again, you find yourself doing that which you do not enjoy, because it is your duty. Quizzing glass?”
“No. I do put a pair of spectacles on a fob.”
“How many fobs, and do you carry a watch?” Anna found a pair of spectacles on the escritoire and waited while the earl sorted through his collection of fobs. He presented her with one simple gold chain.
“I do not carry a time piece to Carlton House,” he explained, “for it serves only to reinforce how many hours I am wasting on the Regent’s business.” Anna bent to thread the chain through the buttonhole of his waistcoat and tucked the glasses into his watch pocket, giving the earl’s tummy a little pat when the chain was hanging just so across his middle.
“Will I do?” the earl asked, smiling at her proprietary gesture.
“Not without a coat, you won’t, though in this heat, no one would censor you for simply carrying it until you arrived at your destination.”
“Coat.” The earl scowled, looking perplexed.
“On the clothespress,” Anna said, shaking her head in amusement.
“So it is.” The earl nodded, but his eyes were on Anna. “It appears you’ve put me to rights, Anna Seaton, my thanks.”
He bent and kissed her cheek, a gesture so startling in its spontaneity and simple affection, she could only stand
“But you cannot refuse to go,” Anna said, taking a guess, “for it is a great honor, and so on.”
“It is a tiresome damned pain in my arse,” the earl groused. “You have no wedding ring, Mrs. Seaton, nor does your finger look to have ever been graced by one.”
“Since I have no husband at present,” Anna said, retrieving her hand, “a ring is understandably absent also.”
“Who was this grandfather,” the earl asked, “the one who taught you how to do Tolliver’s job while smelling a great deal better than Tolliver?”
“My paternal grandfather raised me, more or less from childhood on,” Anna said, knowing the truthwould serve up to a point. “He was a florist and a perfumer and a very good man.”
“Hence the flowers throughout my humble abode. Don’t take off too much,” he directed. “I prefer not to look newly shorn.”
“You have no time for this,” Anna said, hazarding another guess as she snipped carefully to trim up the curling hair at his nape. She’d snip, snip then brush the trimmings from his bare shoulders. It went like that, snip, snip, brush until she leaned up and blew gently on his nape instead, then resumed snipping.
When she leaned in again, she caught the scent of his woodsy, spicy cologne. The fragrance and putting her mouth just a few inches from his exposed nape left her insides with an odd, fluttery disconcerted feeling. She lingered behind him, hoping her blush was subsiding as she finished her task. “There.” This time she brushed her fingers over his neck several more times. “I believe you are presentable, or your hair is.”
“The rest of me is yet underdressed.” He held out his hand for the scissors. “Now where is my damned shirt?”
She handed him his damned shirt and would have turned to go, except his cravat had also sprouted wings and flown off to an obscure location on the door of his wardrobe, followed by his cuff links, and stickpin, and so forth. When he started muttering that neck-cloths were altogether inane in the blistering heat, she gently pushed his fingers aside and put both hands on his shoulders.
“Steady on.” She looked him right in the eye. “It’s only a silly committee, and you need only leave a bankdraft then be about your day. How elegant do you want to look?”
“I want to look as plain as I can without being a Quaker,” the earl said. “My father loves this sort of thing, back-slapping, trading stories, and haggling politics.”
Anna finished a simple, elegant knot and took the stickpin from the earl’s hand. “Once again, you find yourself doing that which you do not enjoy, because it is your duty. Quizzing glass?”
“No. I do put a pair of spectacles on a fob.”
“How many fobs, and do you carry a watch?” Anna found a pair of spectacles on the escritoire and waited while the earl sorted through his collection of fobs. He presented her with one simple gold chain.
“I do not carry a time piece to Carlton House,” he explained, “for it serves only to reinforce how many hours I am wasting on the Regent’s business.” Anna bent to thread the chain through the buttonhole of his waistcoat and tucked the glasses into his watch pocket, giving the earl’s tummy a little pat when the chain was hanging just so across his middle.
“Will I do?” the earl asked, smiling at her proprietary gesture.
“Not without a coat, you won’t, though in this heat, no one would censor you for simply carrying it until you arrived at your destination.”
“Coat.” The earl scowled, looking perplexed.
“On the clothespress,” Anna said, shaking her head in amusement.
“So it is.” The earl nodded, but his eyes were on Anna. “It appears you’ve put me to rights, Anna Seaton, my thanks.”
He bent and kissed her cheek, a gesture so startling in its spontaneity and simple affection, she could only stand
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