“Beginning here.” He pointed at the page, his slim fingers managing to look both strong and elegant at the same time.
She was quite familiar with the scene, set early in the first act. It was an important one.
Although, she liked to believe they all were.
Elle nodded and summoned the story that had lived in her head for over a year.
Desperate to escape marriage to a cruel marquess, her heroine, Lady Drusilla, poses as a penniless miss to secure employment in the Earl of Pudding’s household. Upon waking from a nightmare her first night, she naïvely leaves the attic in search of a book.
Wearing nothing but a nightrail and dressing gown, she sneaks into the library and, with moonlight shining through the window, begins scanning the shelves. Finding nothing truly interesting on the lower shelves, and knowing that the most interesting books in most households were stored out of sight, she climbs the ladder to read those titles.
But she is not alone for long.
“Looking for something in particular, Miss Drusilla?” Mr. Dodd’s voice filled the small office. He spoke, of course, with the perfect amount of disdain.
Elle glanced up, pleasantly surprised. “That’s exactly how I heard it. In my mind. Just like that.”
“Wonderful.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice even as he rolled his eyes. “Now, if you’d be so kind…” He gestured to the page. Oh, yes. She was to read for Lady Drusilla.
But Elle didn’t need to read from the script, and if she was to do this properly, she couldn’t do so sitting down, so, rising, she faced the wall. There, she pretended to be standing on the ladder and turned her head as though she was, in fact, Lady Drusilla caught pilfering one of her employer’s books. “Will you read the line again?” she asked.
“Looking for something in particular, Miss Drusilla?” And not for the first time, the timbre of his voice sent a warm tingling sensation down her spine. Butterflies danced in her belly. But Lady Drusilla thinks she is alone, so she would have been startled—even if she eventually becomes enamored by her employer.
Elle glanced over her shoulder, eyes wide. “I’m looking for something to read, my lord. I thought I was alone.” Lady Drusilla would feel exposed here. Elle ducked her chin and curled her shoulders inward.
“I cannot imagine my housekeeper failed to inform you of the house rules—one of which states that servants do not roam the manor in the middle of the night?” Mr. Dodd rose from his chair as well, and watching him approach her almost stealthily weakened her knees more than a little. “Especially not alone.” Accusation burned from his eyes and Elle could almost believe she was in trouble with her employer.
But he was not Mr. Dodd. If they were to do this correctly, she needed to think of him as the Earl of Pudding.
Vulnerable and on the run from her cruel father, Lady Drusilla is afraid she’ll be sacked. She’s also a genteel lady alone in a dark room with a terribly handsome man who is not her brother or father.
He is a perfect stranger, but he is also her employer.
And this heroine is wearing nothing but her nightclothes.
“I couldn’t sleep, my lord.” Elle allowed fear to hitch her voice. “I only meant to borrow…” Drusilla would not mention the nightmares just yet. Elle mimed climbing down the ladder. “I’ll leave… Oh!” She jumped when Mr. Dodd’s hands landed on her waist.
Lord Pudding’s hands.
“Careful there, little thief.” His front pressed against her back, his breath hot on her cheek.
Because Drusilla would be descending a real ladder, and she would lose her balance and fall backwards—exactly as Elle had written it. Elle had never imagined herself portraying any of her characters.
And if not for the Earl of Pudding, the heroine of her play would have tumbled to the floor.
“I’ll—I’ll return to my chamber. Please forgive the intrusion.” She made an attempt to move for the door but the earl held her fast, preventing her escape.
He leaned closer and his breath teased the side of her face.
“You might as well make your selection before returning to bed.” The heat from his palms seeped through her gown and it was impossible not to imagine how his hands would feel on her bare skin.
She blinked away the thought.
“I should not have been so presumptuous, my lord. Forgive me,” Elle said. And because Drusilla, taught by the strictest of governesses, had been raised to be virtuous, Elle cooled her voice. “If you’ll be so kind as to release me, I’ll leave you be.”
“Lady Drusiilla ought to show more outrage here.” Her partner released her. “Pudding comes across as a rogue—expecting liberties no lady would allow.”
Her captor/rescuer stepped back, and Elle took a moment to realize he was Mr. Dodd again.
