The child nodded eagerly. “Yes, I do! It’s a pink one.”
Despite her worries, Cecilia felt a smile curve her lips. The child really was exceptionally pretty, especially when she smiled. “Pink? How curious. That happens to be my favorite color.”
Chapter Five
Gideon didn’t approve of gentlemen who debauched their housemaids.He’dnever done such a thing, and he didn’t intend to start with Cecilia Gilchrist.
He didn’t know what had possessed him to leap half-dressed from his bed this morning, but he cringed when he recalled her shocked gasp at the sight of his bare chest. He’d never seen anyone’s cheeks go a deeper shade ofred than hers.
Before he descended the stairs to the breakfast parlor, he’d taken care to make certain there wasn’t a glimpse of bare skin to be seen on his entire person. Breeches and boots, shirt, cravat, waistcoat, and coat—every inch of him was safely hidden under several layers of fabric.
By then, he’d persuaded himself there’d been nothing at all unusual about his encounter with Cecilia in his bedchamber. Still, perhaps it was for the best Amy had appeared in her place to light the fire. He and Amy were easy with each other, and there was no sense in tempting fate byhaving Cecilia—
That is, he wasn’ttemptedby Cecilia Gilchrist. Not in the least. It was entirely the wrong word to use, because there’d been nothing at all tempting about the incident. No, what he meant, of course, was she’d been so flustered he’d been afraid she’d bumble into another mishap, and he’d rather his bedchamber remained intact.
She’d never seen a man in a state of undress before, that much was certain. He would have thought a woman of three-and-twenty might have caught a glimpse ofsomethingby now, but if she’d spent the past eleven years shut up at Lady Dunton’s remote country house as she claimed, she would have led a more sheltered life than one of London’s most closely guarded virgin debutantes.
No doubt she was shy of gentlemen, waryof them, even—
“…wretched old pile of stones, but I daresay you’ll become fonder of Darlington Castle than you’d ever think possible.”
Gideon paused in the doorway to the breakfast parlor. His friend Benedict Harcourt, Lord Haslemere was lounging in a chair at the table, grinning flirtatiously, and beside him, not looking at all shy or wary stood Cecilia Gilchrist, a teapot in her hand and an answering smile on her lips.
“Where did you come from, Haslemere?” Gideon stalked across the room in a sudden and inexplicable cloudof irritation.
Haslemere and Cecilia both looked up at the sound of his voice. Haslemere’s grin widened, but Cecilia quickly looked away from him, down at the teapot in her hand.
“From Surrey, same as ever,” Haslemere drawled.
“Don’t you have some debauching todo in London?”
Haslemere shrugged. “The debauching has been rather dull of late. I thought chasing ghosts might be moreentertaining.”
“Some tea, Cecilia, but take care, if you please.” Gideon yanked out a chair and dropped into it. “I don’t want another mishap. A burst eardrum is enough misery for one morning. I don’t fancy scaldingtea in my lap.”
Haslemere frowned at Gideon’s sharp tone, and Cecilia’s face flooded with color.“Yes, my lord.”
Gideon blew out a breath, regretting his ill temper at once, but Cecilia poured his tea and hurried from the breakfast parlor before he could sayanother word.
“A trifle irritable this morning, are we, Darlington?” Haslemere raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t you sleep well?”
“Well enough.” He hadn’t, but Gideon didn’t mention it, nor did he tell Haslemere he’d been woken with an ear-splitting crash, and had gone on to inadvertently expose himself tohis housemaid.
Haslemere sipped from his teacup, eyeing Gideon over the rim. “I see you’ve found another housemaid at last. Hails from London, does she?”
“No, from Stoneleigh. She has a letter of reference from Lady Dunton. She’s been with her since she went into service.” Or so she claimed. Gideon still wasn’t convinced.
“Odd. I would have sworn I’d seen her face in London before, though I can’t recall where. What’s her name? You chased her away before I could ask.”
Gideon gave him a sour look. “You’re curious this morning, Haslemere.”
Haslemere smirked. “Curiosity is a characteristic of an active mind, Darlington.”
“A prying one, too, but if you must know, her name is Cecilia Gilchrist.”
“Cecilia Gilchrist! But she’s one of—” Haslemere broke off, leaving the unfinished sentence hangingbetween them.
Gideon’s gaze narrowed on his friend’s face, his suspicions about Cecilia Gilchrist rushing to the surface. “She’s one ofwhat? Do you know her, Haslemere?”
