“Hello, Your Grace.” Every time I saw him, my heart skipped a beat with unrequited love. While most gentlemen were out all hours of the night gambling and whoring, he spent his time indulging his passion for pottery and sculpting. I respected his tenacity and his talent.
Lord Kendrick enjoyed all mediums of his craft, and samples of his work crowded the long shelving units lining the walls. I moved across the space to the wheel where he sat, his shirtsleeves rolled up. A spherical clay blob was centered in the middle while he worked the wheel with one foot. The muscles of his forearms flexed; his head bent over his work. He was an appealing man, both inside and out.
“Colt, thank goodness you are back. I trust you had a pleasant visit with your mother?” He wiped the back of his hand over his forehead, pushing away a lock of coffee brown hair that had fallen out of its tethering. It was difficult to be in love with my employer and not act on it. The strain on my nerves was reaching a breaking point. My good fortune couldn’t come at a better time, but it was bittersweet.
“She is doing well.” I swallowed the guilt over my lie. My mother was in Europe on an extended tour. I had met with my late cousin’s solicitor and took time afterward to digest the repercussions of inheriting a shipping business. “Frank said you needed to see me.”
He scratched at the stubble on his chin, leaving a streak of clay. That he wasn’t smiling disturbed me. To most, he hadn’t acare in the world. It was a façade to his true self, for he straddled two worlds. He took his duties as duke seriously and was very astute at speculation. My admiration for him knew no bounds, even though I sometimes found fault with his behavior.
“I was in the garden sculpting Gavin when Lady Lillian Tapper saw us,” he said, his lips pressed in a grim line.
“She saw you?” I asked, needing context. Lord Kendrick’s latest amour was an actor and the son of a world-renowned singer who was a favorite of Queen Victoria’s. Gavin was a man of great physical appeal but no substance. I had distrusted the man the second I met him. “What exactly did she see?”
Although it would be painful, I had to know the whole story. The duke’s proclivities had revealed themselves as my employment evolved. I was adequately compensated for my silence, along with the rest of the household. What I had never divulged—or would ever divulge—was he’d opened my eyes to my own desires.
“He was on the pedestal in the garden. He was also naked. I was working on the marble, but he was positioned wrong. I went to change his position, and, well, I got sidetracked.” He made no secret that he was a passionate man and his tastes ran to both men and women. The duke exhaled a long breath, pointing to a sheet of paper. “That drifted into the garden.”
It was a rite of passage for a man to seek out a woman’s bed, and I was no different. I had gone the traditional route, and while I enjoyed the bed sport my mistresses had provided, something had been missing in every encounter. It wasn’t until I observed Kendrick and his base desires I realized that I, too, favored other men. I had a brief affair with a man I met at a coffee shop, but it ended as quickly as it began. He was a decent man, but my heart belonged to Kendrick, and I ended the affair. I moved to the table and glanced down at the typewritten sheet of paper. “This is the title page of a manuscript.”
“The name says Mr. Lillian, and since the earl’s daughter is named Lillian, I can assume it is her,” Lord Kendrick said. “What should I do? I can’t just bring up the subject in polite conversation. There’s a chance she saw nothing. She was far away.”
“Could you see her clearly?” If he couldn’t see her, then perhaps he was right. I sensed he wasn’t, but I wasn’t all-knowing. As my father was to the previous duke, I was simply his personal secretary.
“She wore a hat, and I could see her hand move to her face.” The duke cupped the lump of clay and trailed his fingers along the surface like a lover’s caress. He was an impressive-looking man with broad shoulders and a sturdy frame. I had known him for years and had jumped at the chance to work for someone so unique.
“I keep running through every scenario yet have no answers,” he said.
“I think the most logical choice is to speak with her. If she is an innocent, chances are she has no idea what she was seeing.” I ran a hand through my hair and drew out a long breath. My greatest fear was something like this would happen with a man as volatile as Gavin.
I’d convinced Lord Kendrick to have Gavin sign a gentleman’s agreement. It was not legally binding, but a small provision in it would guarantee Gavin’s compliance and force him to keep the duke’s secrets. Lady Lillian Tapper had no such restrictions.
“I had his ballocks in my mouth. One couldn’t be more obvious,” he said, his foot moving quicker on the pedal. The wheel spun faster, as did my thoughts.
It pained me to admit that I often judged his lovers through the green lens of jealousy. I had walked in on him being intimate with some of his other lovers; his last mistress wasan opera singer with no modesty. She was fond of lifting her skirt at the drop of a hat. Lord Kendrick wasn’t modest, either. He considered himself a degenerate. I thought the word was too harsh to describe him. He was a benevolent man, and his positive attributes made it harder for me to leave his employ. “How long ago did this happen?”
Lord Kendrick looked at the clock on the mantel as he cupped the top of the clay to form the lip of the vase. His artwork was well-received and even helped revitalize the sagging estates. Many people in society were eager to toady up to the duke and discreetly acquire his pieces through a mysterious third party—me—and the money found its way into the estate’s coffers. Of course, Lord Kendrick couldn’t sell them outright. It was bad form for a man of his station to participate in something as lowly as trade.
“It was around noon. Mother went over to the earl’s home to visit the countess. It was right after she left. She wanted to know my schedule. She has some heiress she would like me to meet.”
“It is almost four. I would suggest you send a note around asking for an audience.” It was better to meet the potential scandal head-on.
“And what will I say? ‘Hello, Lady Lillian. Did you by chance see me in the garden seducing another man?’” He tilted his head and met my gaze, his mouth twisted in a pained grimace.
To see him discomfited tugged at my softer side.
“I would recommend using a bit more tact. You could simply start by returning the paper. If she says something, you will know. Of course, if she said something to her parents, you will find out the second you call.” The houses along this part of Mayfair were quite close together, and it was easy to see how Lady Lillian was able to eavesdrop. Too bad it was Gavin and not his previous mistress. That would raise brows but not cause anoutright scandal that could ruin him. This could be devastating to his reputation or merely blow over.
Lord Kendrick was insulated by his title, and since his mother, Lady Helen, was Lady Tapper’s friend, they might contain the scandal. However, Lady Helen would have to be informed of the verifiable facts. She might be shocked, but she would protect Lord Kendrick.
“You are correct about the solution and her family’s reaction. I pray she kept her observations to herself.” He exhaled, his chest rising at the action. The rough linen shirt tugged at his broad shoulders, and the thin fabric clung to his back.
The years of performing such laborious art had honed his body. I curled my fingers into my fist, aching to touch him. My own natural inclinations had begun in my youth. If anyone would understand my desires, Lord Kendrick would. He was my employer, which complicated things. The duke also hopped from one lover to another. Chances were he would grow bored with me if I pursued an affair. My shoulders slumped. I would rather be in his company than out of it. “There is no use worrying over it until you get some answers,” I said.
“That is easier said than accomplished. Please draft a request to call on Lady Lillian tomorrow and send some flowers. Women love flowers.” He flashed a polite smile, a dimple appearing in his cheek.
“I think flowers might be overmuch at this juncture. You wouldn’t wish to give her family a false impression.” I laid my hand on the bunched muscle of his shoulder. It was very rare that I touched him. I squeezed it in reassurance. Heat infiltrated my palm and shot right into my groin. I dropped my hand and turned on my heel.
“You are right, per usual. Don’t forget to send Mother my schedule. If I must meet this girl, I’ll rather do it sooner than later.” His voice was subdued and lacked his usual good cheer.
