Page 10 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

That seemed a simple enough task. Thomas had done that countless times.

After being left standing outside the gate to the stables, it only took ten minutes for a crest emblazoned carriage to pull up in front of the townhouse. Thomas recognized it, but he couldn’t place which great house it came from. He hurried forward, careful to keep his head down. This would be his second real test to see if anyone recognized him. He’d failed miserably the first time. But that was Samuel, one of his closest friends, so of course he was more likely to recognize him. Thomas kept his shoulders back, his gaze on the cobbled stone beneath him as he approached the carriage.

He opened the door and was met with a calming floral scent. Amid the sounds of carriages and people bustling about, Thomas’s nerves settled. He extended his hand up toward the descending lady. When she put her gloved hand in his, however, a jolt shot through his body. He couldn’t help but look up at her.

There before him was an angel.

No other words could describe the demure young lady. The sun shone behind her head illuminating her soft, light brown curls like a halo, and her eyes radiated kindness.

When her feet touched the ground, he didn’t let go of her hand, and she took another step toward him with a catch in her breath.

Thomas bowed over her hand and kissed the back of her white kid glove.

A short yelp came from behind the lady. “What spectacle is this?” A woman’s voice fairly slapped Thomas back into his role as a servant.

He quickly released the lady’s hand and stepped back, his head bowed even lower.

“I’ll handle this, Mother,” a young boy’s voice pierced the awkward silence.

Thomas saw two small hessian boots come toe to toe with him.

“Footmen are not permitted to be so forward toward my sister. Is that clear?”

Thomas nodded with heat creeping up his neck, trying in vain to place the little boy. “I apologize, sir.”

“My Lord.”

Thomas’s eyes snapped up enough to take in the boy’s face.

“You are to address me as, My Lord.” He continued on like Thomas was a simpleton. “Where did His Grace find you? I’ll be certain to tell him what a disgraceful reception we received upon our arrival. It might be prudent for you to consider looking for a different position.”

Thomas ground his teeth together. He would not rise to the bait from what looked to be a twelve-year-old boy.

The little lord pushed past Thomas, his sharp shoulder connecting solidly with Thomas’s gut. Twelve or no, the miniature gentleman was not one to be taken lightly. At least not by a servant; if Thomas were dressed as he usually was in the highest degree of fashion, he would set this boy down and teach him a lesson or two on respect. But alas, it was not to be so today. Because today, Thomas was a footman. For the first time, it chaffed.

“Come, Lavender,” the woman spoke again, and Thomas finally placed the family. This was Lady Gardner, and the little lord must be Lord Winberg.

Thomas chanced another glance up toward the young lady he’d helped from the carriage. Lady Lavender. She opened her fan and deftly swatted away a bee that was beside her. Thomas’s body hummed with the recollection of her touch. Her gaze connected with his, and his heart underwent a change he feared he would never be able to undo. How could one lady have such an effect on him? He’d seen beauty before, he’d held beautiful women on the dance floor, and he’d seen the most vivid locations in Europe. But Lady Lavender was something different altogether. He took a step back and his foot squelched into a soft mound. Upon closer examination, he discovered it to be manure.

If the House of Lords landed atop of Thomas, it would not prove to be a sufficient hiding place.

Lady Gardner swatted Thomas with her reticule and plugged her nose. “You fool. Keep your hands off my daughter.”

Heat spread from Thomas’s cheeks to the tips of his poorly concealed ears. “Yes, my lady.” He couldn’t have been more humiliated on his first task if he’d tried.

He heard the party move toward the house and he spun away, hiding his face and attempting to stomp off the disgusting muck that was stuck to his boots. What else could have possibly gone awry? It was a timely reminder for him that it was these types of people precisely that Thomas was glad to leave behind when he’d entered his time of servitude. But apparently he couldn’t avoid them altogether. The only good that came from the entire debacle was that Lady Gardner, as hawk-like as she was in searching for suitors for her daughters, hadn’t realized Thomas’s true identity.

Chapter 5

Lavender felt for the footman. “Mother, leave the man be. He was simply welcoming me here.”

“He was doing far more than that,” her mother hissed. “I know it was never our intention to bring you here, but since you were unable to inspire greater feeling from another gentleman in our parish, we find the move a necessity. That man—” Lady Gardner threw a disgusted look over her shoulder. “Is invisible. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mother.” Lavender understood acutely what it was to be invisible. That didn’t mean she wanted it for anyone else. Besides, the ten seconds she’d spent in that footman’s presence had made her breathing hitch and her heart race. One thing was for certain: he was not invisible to her.

She glanced back at the footman. His back was to her, and he was muttering something under his breath as he tried in vain to rid his boots of horse manure. His shoulders were wide, his maroon coat pulled so taut she wondered that he didn’t split a seam. The fluttering in her heart increased.

She’d felt similar sensations before, not quite so strong, but they had been there with Mr. Lanscombe. She gave each and every flutter a hard stomp as she followed her mother indoors. Feelings like that were not to be trusted in any circumstance—especially if one found the servants attractive. Lavender’s mother might not expect her to make a brilliant match—unlike her vibrant sisters, Lavender was always meant to live in the background—but she would most certainly demand the match be made to a gentleman. No, Lavender would swat those feelings away just as she had the bee a few moments ago. All it took was practice.