He shifted a foot to admire his knee-high boots that had been polished to show his reflection. It was a shame they were bound to get scuffed while riding.
“Is anything amiss, sir?” Geoffrey asked.
“Not at all.” Jem ran his hands down the dark blue superfine broadcloth of his tailored jacket. “I wish you’d been over my troupe’s costumes the last two years.”
Something flashed across the man’s expression, before he asked, “I beg pardon, sir?”
“I’m just saying you do a fine job.”
Geoffrey paused again. “Might I ask you a question, sir, if it is not too forward?”
“Go ahead.” Jem’s first thought was that he had done something wrong, but Nellie had said all her servants knew about the time traveling. They must be used to people not doing things appropriate for the period.
“Were you a bard in your time, sir?”
“I’m no poet, if that’s what you mean.” Jem chuckled. “I worked with a group of traveling storytellers.”
“You are an actor,” Geoffrey said, his tone curious.
“Well, yes and no.” Jem rubbed his chin, wondering how to explain modern play production. “I studied acting in college, but I spent the last two years as the head stage manager. The simplest way to explain it is I’m an organizer. I make sure the director has everything she needs to make the play happen.”
“Afemalewas over your troupe?” The manservant arched a brow.
“Yes, a female. England is ruled by a woman, and Nellie runs this place. I’m surprised you’d even have to ask me that. Now, I need to see if a certain young lady is ready to go riding.” Jem gave his appearance one more glance. He wanted to look his best today, since Kaitlyn and Cyrus had said they wouldn’t go riding, and Jem would have Reese to himself.
“Will you return for luncheon, sir?” Geoffrey wore his placid servant demeanor again.
“Neither of us have done much riding recently, so we’ll be back long before lunch.” Jem’s family bred horses, and he remembered too well that it took time to adjust one’s body to riding.
“Very good, sir. I will have a change of clothing ready for you then.” Geoffrey bowed.
The rich people of this time sure changed their clothes a lot. Jem wondered what the guy would think if he knew how often Jem had worn the same pair of jeans two days in a row. The valet would probably be scandalized.
Jem bounded down the stairs and followed the savory smell of breakfast. He checked the dining room for Reese. The emptiness that greeted him dampened his mood. What if she had decided to sleep in rather than go riding with him? He needed time with her.
He went to the sideboard and lifted some of the silver covers to expose the food underneath—bacon, eggs, sausage, beans, fried tomatoes, fried mushrooms, black pudding, and toast. He didn’t think he’d ever be a fan of pork and beans for breakfast.
Jem picked up a plate and had just begun dishing up some food when the sound of rustling skirts and grumbling came from the hallway.Yes! He put down the plate and turned to find Reese standing in the doorway, holding the ridiculously long train of her riding habit. She looked stunning in that color, the dark blue matching her eyes.
“It’s a conspiracy,” she said, her voice grim. “They’re trying to kill me.”
Jem bit back a laugh at her expression, though he did sympathize with her situation. His life wasn’t in danger with tight breeches or choking cravats. The heavy folds of that dress looked deadly. Her comment at the Regency Ball came to mind. She had always ridden well back home, but what if she fell and the habit got caught? He fought back a stab of fear for her, but he said nothing. Until they found their old footing again, she was bound to take offense at anything he said about it.
“I will assist you today, my lady,” he said with a bow.
“Don’t get me in trouble by calling me a lady.” Reese glanced over her shoulder. “Their snooty aristocracy might hang me if they think I’m impersonating one of them.”
“Is that like impersonating an officer? What’s the penalty for that?” He winked. “I’m sure Nellie will protect us.”
She grinned and tossed her train over her shoulder, flashing the black boots she wore.
“Hey, look.” Jem pointed at her habit and his jacket. “The blues in our outfits match.” He liked the idea that Nellie’s servants had color coordinated them. Did they see Reese and him as a couple?
“No surprise there, considering the warehouse of clothes Nellie has here.” Reese walked to the sideboard. “I’ll bet she buys her fabric in bulk.” She lifted the covers and grimaced. “I wish they had more fresh fruit around here.”
“We have to accept that fruit is really only in season when it’sinits season,” Jem said.
“I never realized how spoiled we were.” After dishing up some eggs and taking a small scone, she took a seat at the table.
