Sir Elston glared at him from under bushy eyebrows. He was a short man of impressive bulk, and he appeared less than thrilled with the new member of his household. “Who hired you?”
“Your daughter, sir.”
“Norah?” he said, aghast.
“No, Miss Georgiana.”
“What the hell was she thinking, hiring a butler we can’t afford?”
“She knew I was in need of gainful occupation and she thought I might do.”
“There’ll be no gains from this household,” Sir Elston said frankly. “We’re on the rocks.”
“A roof over my head and three meals a day is recompense enough for the time being. Once your fortunes rebound, you can pay me my back wages.”
Manning’s laugh was a harsh, grating sound. “You have more faith in my future than I do. What are your qualifications?”
“I believe I can carry out my duties to your satisfaction,” Rafferty said smoothly. “Would you like me to shave you?”
There was no lessening of suspicion in Sir Elston’s beady eyes, but he sighed. “Just don’t cut my throat. If you’re going to steal the silver, then do it. It’s no good to me.”
“So Miss Georgiana informed me. I have no interest in your silver, sir.” That wouldn’t have been true on any other occasion. He was a criminal, after all, a thief. A thoroughly bad man. But he had far bigger fish to fry.
“Hmmph. I trust you have no interest in my daughter,” he said in his gravelly voice, “either of them.”
“None apart from my employment, sir.”
Sir Elston still didn’t look convinced. “Touch a hair on their precious heads and you’ll have me to answer to. I’ll horsewhip you.”
His new employer was almost a foot shorter than he was, and well-padded. He’d have a hard time reaching him, but Rafferty simply nodded gravely. “Yes, sir.”
“All right, then, Rafferty. You may shave me.”
He managed a creditable job, given that he’d never shaved another man in his life, and saw Sir Elston neatly dressed and on his way downstairs before he heard the screech from one of the bedrooms. Since butlers were ostensibly in charge of an entire household, he went straight to the room, tapped on the door and pushed it open.
Norah Manning stood in the middle of the room, in the midst of throwing a brush, when she saw him. “Who are you?” she demanded in tones of deep loathing.
“I’m your new butler, remember?”
“Get out, get out, get out!” she screamed, throwing the brush at him.
He closed the door before it could hit him.
The door across the hall opened, and Miss Georgiana Manning stood there, her tawny hair in a braid halfway to her waist. “Who are you?” she said sleepily.
Introductions in this household were certainly consistent. “Rafferty, your new butler,” he said politely.
Her bright blue eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not! I hired a new butler last night, and he...”
“Shaved and bathed and bought a new suit,” he said. “Good morning, Miss Georgiana.”
A bright smile lit her face, and she came rushing out of her room, paying absolutely no attention to her deshabille. “It is you!” she said, taking his hands. “You look wonderful.”
He gently detached himself. All he needed was the old man or the wicked sister to see him and his service would be at an end.
“Thank you, Miss Georgiana. Is there anything I might do for you? If not, I should go back downstairs...”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I hired you, I should be the one who oversees what you do. Come into my room and talk to me.”
