Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,40

place?”

“It won’t happen again. I’ve been trying to find out more about Mrs. Roper for you and the guest who is expected to arrive. It has been a frustrating morning all round. The servants here are less forthcoming than any I’ve ever met.”

“Vyne’s influence, I’m sure,” Hector concluded.

He shivered. The room was damn cold, and Hector only wore the bedsheet and a thick blanket over him. He never wore a nightshirt, preferring nothing to come between him and the perfect night of rest. Uncomfortably chilled, he glanced over the side of the bed, but his clothes from last night were missing from the floor. Cursing his new valet’s efficiency, Hector burrowed back under the bedding. His last man had known not to do any valeting before luncheon.

But it was no use. Hector was cold and wide awake. He’d have to get up and dress.

Bracing himself, he rolled out of bed and rushed to his traveling trunks, pawing through his clothes to find his warmest garments urgently.

“My lord, please, don’t ruin my morning’s work on your wardrobe,” Parker cried out in anguish. “I had everything pressed and ready to wear.”

“I want my warmest clothes on me today.” Hector spared the discarded clothing a fleeting glance. “I’d like not to freeze to death.”

“Here, let me help you,” the man offered, easing between him and the remaining clothing. He offered up an undershirt, then a recently ironed white linen shirt. Hose came next, then long trousers that secured under the arch of his foot. He put on his favorite boots and the thickest wool waistcoat he owned, and then a brown wool coat, longer than he’d typically wear. Hector had come to The Vynes prepared for the great chill of the place.

Finally starting to warm up, he moved to the fire but quickly saw the pitiful flames would never warm him the rest of the way. “You cannot allow the fire to die down again. This is the coldest place on earth. There must always be a good fire in my room. Always.”

“I’m sorry, my lord,” Parker said as he rushed to the fire again and began to poke it.

The fire, if anything, burned a little less. This would never do. “Stop poking it. Give it time to catch properly again.”

Parker finally sat back on his heels and rubbed his arms. “This might take a while.”

“Yes, it probably will.”

Parker looked up at him “I believe there is a good fire burning just down the hall in the upstairs parlor.”

“That will have to do.” He frowned. “Why was the upstairs parlor lit?”

“Mrs. Roper and her son are there already,” Parker explained, adding a little kindling to the meager flames.

“Ah,” Hector murmured. “The widow.”

Parker looked up at him again. “Is there something wrong?”

“Yes. No. She’s a widow,” he complained.

“Why is that an issue? Were you not a frequent companion of Lady Freemont’s, a widow, just last month?”

“The month before.” Hector scowled. “You know, for a relatively new employee, you know far too much about my life.”

“I can’t help it if your servants talk, my lord,” he murmured, adding more fuel to the fire before standing up to face him. “It is a regrettable facet of downstairs life in every place but here.”

Hector grunted. “The problem is she, Mrs. Roper, is Lord Vyne’s niece, and…”

“And?”

“I find her much too attractive.”

“Pretty women are one of life’s joys,” Parker suggested with a cheeky smile.

“Indeed they are quite the distraction. Except when there is a genuine danger of becoming leg-shackled to one by accident.”

“Is that likely here?”

Hector sighed. “Normally when confronted by a pretty woman, I wouldn’t hesitate to spend time with them. Alone, preferably. The boy is a deterrent to a romantic pursuit, surely, but I find myself wondering about her, and that isn’t good. Perhaps it is the solitude of the place that draws me to her. But here, at this time, the lady has no chaperone but the boy, no family but Lord Vyne, and he is keeping to his chambers. If my sister were here, I’d have reason to linger in her presence to learn more about her, and perhaps who knows where that could lead. But I would not appreciate compromising Mrs. Roper by mistake because of a lack of chaperone.”

“I see your point. Being forced to marry would be unpleasant.”

Hector grunted.

“However, can you ignore Mrs. Roper until Lord and Lady Clement arrive? That seems a touch rude when there’s little here to amuse either one of you.”

Parker was only repeating what Hector himself