command left no room for argument.
Her cousin released her. “What are you going to do?”
“Shhh.” Bess had no idea, but she would figure it out. When she’d accompanied Gemma to Davensworth Cottage to help her set up house, she hadn’t imagined one of her duties would involve ousting a nude man from the premises. Better her than Gemma, though. As a widow with five years of marriage to her credit, Bess wouldn’t see anything she hadn’t seen before.
When she peeked from her hiding spot once more, he’d disappeared. Another clatter came from the kitchen. She hurried along the corridor with the candlestick raised above her head. Taking a deep breath to shore up her courage, she ran into the kitchen, hollering loud enough to wake the dead.
The man, who was stoking the fire in the kitchen hearth, bolted upright, smacking his head on the mantle. He dropped the iron poker; it landed on his foot. A roar like nothing she’d ever heard ripped from his throat. His nearly black eyes were ablaze when he spun toward her. His muscular chest heaved and fell with mesmerizing regularity.
Bess gaped.
He’d stripped to his drawers, and the garment clung to him like a second skin. Oh, how wrong she’d been. Her previous marriage hadn’t prepared her at all for such a vision. He was a man in his prime, seemingly chiseled from marble with extra attention paid from God himself.
He frowned. “What’s the meaning of this? Screaming like a banshee and scaring a man half to death?” He advanced on her, bobbled a step, and knocked his hip against the butcher’s block. “Hellfire!”
“Y-you—” Bess’s mouth was dry. She moistened her lips. “You are trespassing. Gather your clothing and be gone.”
He crossed his arms, his biceps bulging. A roguish smile eased across his handsome face. “It is cold outside, love. Don’t be inhospitable.” He weaved side to side. His eyelids were heavy over bleary eyes.
“Law, you are foxed,” Bess said.
“Not enough for the night I am having.”
Bess heard a gasp behind her. “Lord Julius, oh my heavens!” Gemma’s hands were over her eyes; the apples of her cheeks were flushed bright pink. “What brings you to Davensworth on such a night?”
“An unfortunate turn of events, miss.” He slurred his words, confirming Bess’s suspicion. “My horse spooked and dumped me in Fairrigan Brook.”
“That cannot be, my lord.” Her cousin carried on as if covering her eyes and conversing with a half naked man in her kitchen happened every day. “Fairrigan Brook is east of the village, toward Everly Manor. You must have fallen into Murkwood.”
“Did I?” He scratched his temple. “Yes, you must be right. I couldn’t have traveled from Fairrigan on foot in such a short time. Must have become turned around.”
Bess propped the candlestick on her shoulder, lowering her guard. “Gemma, how do you know this rogue?”
“Lord Julius Everly at your service, Miss.” With a ridiculous flourish of his hand, he bowed low over his leg. The momentum knocked him off balance, but he braced a hand against the wide-plank floor before he crashed face first. When he righted himself, he winked. “And I am no ordinary rogue. My father is the Marquess of Seabrook.”
“Well, forgive me, my lord. I had no inkling I was in the presence of greatness.”
He laughed and swayed on his feet again. “Do you know this vexing she-devil, Miss Price?”
Gemma—a woman of four and twenty—giggled. Her hands were still over her eyes. “Bess is my cousin, the dowager Countess of Hadley, and she has graciously traveled to Davensworth to assist me with setting up my household, now that Father is gone.”
His expression sobered. “My condolences, Miss Price. Your father was a fine man and extraordinary brewer of ale, as I can attest to this evening.”
Bess wasn’t surprised he was familiar with Uncle Roger’s brewery. Even a dunk in the creek couldn’t wash the yeasty scent of ale from him. The smell should be off putting, but mingled his own masculine fragrance, the combination was pleasant. Bess found him infuriating.
“Thank you, my lord,” Gemma said. “I hope I can honor my father’s name and maintain the brewery’s reputation as its new proprietress. Bess, retrieve a blanket for Lord Julius while Anne and I prepare a bed for him.”
“Don’t go to any trouble, Miss Price. Once my clothes dry by the fire, I will be on my way, if you will allow me to borrow a horse. Mine is likely halfway to Everly Manor stables.” He mumbled under his breath, “I