Tempting the Footman (House of Devon #5) - Lauren Smith Page 0,21

he was condemning himself.

Adrian managed to slip down to his room in the basement without being bothered by anyone. He sat down on his cot and buried his face in his hands. Ten years—for ten years this had been his home, the closest he’d come to a family after his mother had died. Adrian let out a heavy sigh. A sampler hung on the wall, words of wisdom sewn into the fabric with delicate precision: “Humility is a servant’s true dignity.”

He had plenty of humility. Losing his mother, then reaching out to his father only to be cast aside without so much as an audience. His mother had been certain Lord Stratford would agree to see him. It was a blessing she had not lived to know otherwise.

Yes, Adrian had plenty of humility and even more humiliation. But when he’d kissed Lady Venetia, there had been a brief moment where he had not felt like himself. No, that wasn’t right. He’d felt more like himself than he had since he’d come to Hartland. He hadn’t been an invisible servant, nor had he been a peacock to be put on display for his attractiveness. He’d simply been a man kissing a woman with passion and longing.

No doubt he was but a plaything to her, a toy to entertain and amuse. Then again, he had seen such sweet innocence in her eyes, as though he had kissed a princess awakened from a century-long slumber, rather than a scheming woman who wished to amuse herself with him. What was the truth? The princess or the clever creature who saw him as a toy? He had fended off advances from beautiful women who had stayed under this roof before. Turning them down had been easy. But Lady Venetia? She was different. And dangerous.

The dinner bell rang outside. He stood and hastily fixed his jacket and hair before he joined the others for their late midday meal. By the time he reached the servants’ table, Mr. Reeves was already presiding at one end and the young housekeeper, Mrs. Miller, at the other.

Adrian slipped into his seat, head down, and Mr. Reeves recited a brief grace. After that, everyone sat in their assigned seats. Mrs. Webster passed plates full of shepherd’s pie around the table.

“The guests have all arrived,” Mr. Reeves began. “The maids and valets will be dining with us after the guests have eaten their supper this evening.” Mr. Reeves spoke more about the fine lords and ladies who had arrived, but Adrian wasn’t listening. He lifted his head only once while eating, and he saw Phillip watching him curiously.

When the meal was over, Adrian joined Benjamin to carry up trays of afternoon tea to the ladies, but Phillip caught up with him. Adrian nodded at Benjamin to go on ahead while he and Phillip hung back.

“Mr. Reeves said you have special duties this week. Is everything all right?” the valet asked.

“Yes, but I can’t speak about it.”

“It has to do with Lady Venetia, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Phillip chuckled. “Well now, you’ve pleased the lady, then, by rescuing her. Well done, old boy!”

“Don’t congratulate me. I may be in trouble still,” Adrian replied before he followed Benjamin up to the green drawing room.

The ladies were all seated about the fire, whispering and laughing as Adrian and Benjamin set down the tea trays. The duchess preferred the footmen to serve the tea while she was engaged in conversation with her guests. Benjamin and Adrian moved efficiently through the room before they retreated into the hall to be silent sentries. Lady Devon was farther away from them, but a few of the other ladies were closer to their position. It was hard not to overhear some of what they said.

“She always has the most attractive men, don’t you agree?” one woman asked another. Their gazes turned to Adrian and Benjamin, who stood in view from the doorway.

“She certainly does. If my husband weren’t here . . . ,” one mused, and her companion giggled.

Adrian clenched his jaw, and Benjamin shifted slightly on his feet. There was nothing more humiliating than being talked about as a commodity to be owned and coveted. He tried to ignore the ladies’ conversation until Lady Venetia’s name pulled him out of his thoughts.

“I hear Lady Latham’s granddaughter is here,” said the first woman. “Yes, the heiress. It’s rumored she may finally be husband hunting, but the poor thing has twisted her ankle. Pity, that. My brother is here, you know, and I hope