“I believe he will be shortly. Best come in and we’ll clear away the dishes.” Paul ushered the man in with an excess of friendly gratitude.
Harriet could sympathize. The Earl was a great deal too astute for her liking, and his questions had made her aware that their position in this household was precarious, to say the least. She was happy to revert to her housekeeper personality, aware that she might have erred in her conversation about his choice of reading materials.
The dishes were soon cleared onto the tray, brandy was poured and a small plate of sweets left, in case the Earl woke and fancied a late snack.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” asked Paul.
“Not tonight, lad.” He sighed. “If so, I shall be well tended.” He nodded to the next room where the valet was preparing the Earl’s bed for the night. “I suggest you and your wife get your rest. After all, newlyweds need their strength, right?” His grin was wickedness personified, and this time, Harriet had no chance of hiding her blushes.
“Now run along. All is well here.” The Earl nodded and dismissed them.
To say they followed his directions and ran from the room would be overstating the case, but their exit could be described as extraordinarily prompt.
Tempted to lean against the wall and pant at their narrow escape, Harriet simply followed Paul down the corridor, slowing as they reached the top of the stairs. “That was close,” she muttered.
“He’s damn sharp, for sure,” added Paul. “And beguilingly charming. A lethal combination.”
“I know,” she nodded. “I was talking about Voltaire with him before I even knew what I was doing.”
“You’ve read Voltaire?” Paul’s eyebrows rose.
Harriet gritted her teeth. “Yes. I have. Some women actually like reading, you know.”
He held up his hand. “No offense, Harry. You’re just full of surprises.” He chuckled. “It would seem my wife has hidden talents.”
In spite of herself, Harriet blushed again. “You’re absurd. I have to check on the kitchen.”
He gave a dramatic sigh. “And I have to go and check on the orgy in the parlor.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Probably best you don’t know.” He walked down the stairs. “I won’t be done for a while. Don’t wait up, dear wife.” This time it was Paul’s grin that radiated wickedness.
Harriet put both hands to her fiery cheeks and rushed away in the opposite direction.
