“Does she often have memory loss?”
“More and more these days. Please, this must remain confidential. I would lose my job if Lord C knew I was discussing it.”
Beth patted her hand where it had stilled on the counter. “I understand. I am sorry I intruded, I was responding to her wave. Truly, this has been far more entertaining than the afternoon of needlework at the manor.”
Lucy laughed. “We haven’t begun teaching you to knit yet.”
“No chance.” Beth giggled. “Two years is a long time to be out here in the country with only Lady Rose, though. Where is your family?”
“Up north. And my mother fell recently and needs my help. She worked as a baron’s housekeeper-cook, but she cannot be on her feet that long now.”
Beth’s ears perked up.Even better. I can offer to use my network to help Cheltie find Lucy’s replacement in exchange for him granting Althea an audience.More, this was what she loved to do. She’d help Lucy and Cheltie and Rose even if Althea was not here. Her hobby—if only she could be paid for it and not be a burden to Althea—and passion was connecting people with reciprocal needs. “Is Lord Cheltenham working to relieve you here, then?”
“Yes. He’s been lovely about it. I am simply anxious to get to my mother.” Lucy shrugged one shoulder.
“I cannot promise anything, but I help at a charity school in London, and I may know some girls who have gone on to nursing training. When we return next week, I shall see what I can do.”
“Oh!” Lucy looked surprised that a stranger visiting for a party would offer to help so readily. Then she frowned.
Beth patted her hand again. “Never fear, my skills at matching people with needs are far superior to my stitching or knitting.”
The women laughed together as Beth donned her cloak and gathered the footman from the hall to return to the manor house.
Chapter Two
Robert was on edge. The first evening’s entertainment of strip whist and dancing had gone smoothly. As he usually did at soirées, he followed in Evan’s shadow, unnoticed.As host, Bags—as Michael and Robert had nicknamed Evan at Oxford—slipped in and out of both ballrooms, ensuring his guests were having a good time, then danced with a variety of ladies and lords.
He’d asked Evan for more information on Beth Jenkins, and his friend’s reaction had seemed strange. Brows raised in surprise, he’d pursed his lips like he wanted to share information about her but said only, “Good choice. You’ll have fun with her.”
The prior night’s close-hold dancing, partners’ bodies brushing each other as they’d never be allowed at a Ton ball, pushed him to consider dancing with Miss Jenkins. However, after a brief but intense internal debate with his timidity, he could not find her. He left obsessed with the idea of her curves against him.
Mayhap I’ll get a dance with Miss Jenkins tonight. His cock twitched anew at the image of those magnificent breasts pressed against him, that luscious arse just below where his hand would rest. Robert spied the object of his desire. She was dancing with a muscular footman, a favorite with guests, as he enjoyed men and women alike.
Of course, she likes his physique. Who wouldn’t? No one is going to choose the blocky bloke hiding in the shadows.
Frowning, he continued to scan the room. Evan had led Lady Egerton to the other ballroom for his crazy interpretation of blindman’s bluff.
Robert lingered to watch the dancing, torn between desire for the curvaceous chestnut-haired girl and defeat at the knowledge that yet another woman he found attractive had eyes for everyone except him. When it seemed the group in this room was happily engaged and the orchestra segued into the next dance, Robert turned to follow his host.
He snuck into a corner of the room to observe Bags weave his magic with the guests. The earl observed tradition by stepping in as the first blindman, and it appeared he was required to identify players by their arses.
Robert shuddered. He could not fathom what someone might think of his rear end, after the jeers and unflattering comments during his school years. Worse, in Evan’s naughty version of the game, Robert could be forced to guess people’s identities by touching a body part and be judged for his accuracy, even if it was all supposedly in play.
What if it was bosoms? And that curvaceous beauty was a participant?His pulse leaped. He clenched his fists, torn between desire and fear as he considered the tradeoffs.
Then the round was over.
The door opened and Robert’s focus shot to the bouncing bosom of the guest he’d been contemplating, who he already thought of as Beth.
Without warning, Bags tossed the blindfold at him. “What? No.” He scowled.
“Come, please, for me. They’re warmed up. They will play along nicely. And look at the curves on that one.”
Damn Bags for knowing his type and remembering he’d asked about her. “You owe me, Bags.”
His friend’s demand solved the question he’d been pondering. Even for Beth, he would not risk the disparaging remarks as the blindman, but he would certainly oversee the play. He wasn’t certain he could bear to watch her be petted by someone else, even if the person were blindfolded, but nor was he willing to give up his hope to get to know her better. For the moment, he’d live vicariously, watching from the shadows as always, as he gathered his courage to approach the lovely Beth.
As Evan rushed out the door, Robert searched for the servant assigned to this room. Evan required someone on hand to help facilitate games and ensure nothing got out of hand. Finding the maid, he handed off the cravat-blindfold and called, “Right, then. I believe I heard chests and breasts. Who wants in?”
