the carpet, embarrassed, although why I wasn’t sure. Blimey, I’d be thrown out on my ear for touching one of their novels.
“Do you speak German?” the man inquired as he stood. There was a smirk upon his face that annoyed me. He had brown eyes and tousled chestnut hair that said he didn’t care much about his looks, but knew he was handsome. I’d always been a good judge of character. One had to be when one lived in St. Giles. Neither of these men were to be trifled with.
“Don’t be stupid, Landcaster,” the other man said, slumping onto the settee. Landcaster. Oh dear lord. The man before me was the son of the household. “She’s only a maid.”
I shot the man on the settee a hard look, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy picking at his fingernails. His words made me hot. How dare this lazy oaf judge me.
Landcaster tapped me on the head with the book, angering me even more. I was not a mindless child to tease. “Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”
“Ein bisschen,” I managed.
I didn’t miss the shock in his brown gaze. “My, my, aren’t you a surprise.”
“It’s German, not French. Hardly anything to get excited about,” the man on the settee offered, ever the optimistic.
“Still, Marks,” he said, looking me up and down in a completely thorough and inappropriate way. “It’s interesting. A maid who speaks German. A scullery maid with a refined voice, who reads about constellations, no less.”
I flushed and looked away. When he held out the book, I snatched it from his hands. Invisible. I was supposed to be invisible. I turned and shoved the book back onto the shelf. My entire body burned with humiliation and unease. I should have pretended that I’d merely dropped the book while cleaning. What an idiot I was!
“It makes me very curious to uncover what else she knows.”
“Nothing, my lord,” I muttered.
“Hmm, I’m not so sure about that.”
I froze, my hand still on the book. I didn’t miss the hint of flirtation in his voice. It was everything I’d hoped to avoid. Damnation!
“Your mother, Landcaster, remember, your mother,” Marks warned. “Do be a good girl and get me a gin, will you?”
Grateful to escape, I scurried to the sideboard and poured the drink into a crystal glass. His mother. Thank the heavens for his mother, who didn’t allow dalliances. With trembling fingers, I handed the glass to Marks. His blue eyes met mine, held. The hardness in his expression worried me. I tore my attention from him and headed toward the fireplace to clean. No matter what their mothers might say, it was obvious these men would do whatever they pleased.
Landcaster sighed as he sauntered toward the settee opposite of Marks. “Bleedin’ mothers and their ridiculous ideas about morality. I blame Gabe’s mum for this. She started it.”
I could feel their gazes on my backside as I knelt by the hearth. As quietly as possible, I shoveled the ash into the pail.
“When will Gabe arrive?”
Landcaster glanced at the porcelain clock upon the mantel. “Soon. Had to stop and see his father.”
“Dear God, hasn’t the man died yet?”
I stiffened. Whoever this Gabe might be, he needed to find new friends. To speak with such callousness over a man dying…it only confirmed what I suspected about these titled gents. Crass and uncaring.
“Still hanging on, although should be gone soon. Doesn’t eat or drink much. Can’t last very long.”
To starve to death was a horrible way to go. Poor man.
“Gabe is most likely counting down the hours.”
“Aren’t we all waiting for the hour when our sires perish and pass their titles?”
They had the audacity to laugh. I gritted my teeth, determined not to respond.
“Gabe will probably throw a party when the old man dies. They never did get along.”
I hesitated, startled. How could a son wish his father dead? Never would I understand high society. Frankly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I stood, grasping the pail in hand, eager to leave. Their curious gazes went to me. I curtsied, and then scurried toward the door.
I was almost to the safety, steps away from escape, when he appeared as if summoned from the very heavens. A veritable golden angel. So stunning, that for a moment I thought I imagined him. Gasping, I tried to step back to avoid collision, but his firm fingers gripped my upper arms, holding me captive. My chest grew oddly tight. A shiver of heat rippled through my belly.
“So sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t