Page 114 of The English Duke
“Oh it’s no bother, Your Grace. I’m on night kitchen duty, in case anyone wants anything. It’s what I’m here for.”
“Would you fetch my valet for me?” he asked.
Henry had evidently introduced himself to the staff, because the girl’s round and shiny cheeks turned pink and she bobbed two or three curtsies in a row.
“Of course, Your Grace. I’ll go and get Henry right this minute.”
Ever since Henry had come to work for him, Jordan had noticed the man’s effect on women. More than one member of his female staff grew flustered in his presence. Even Mrs. Browning was known to giggle around his valet from time to time. No doubt it had something to do with Henry’s height and the bulging muscles that could be detected through any of his shirts.
He thanked her and she grinned brightly at him, revealing a wide space between her two front teeth. Despite the hour and his errand, he couldn’t help but smile back at her.
His entire outlook had been changed and he knew exactly why.
When Henry arrived, he told the man he wasn’t ready to dress in his morning coat for the ceremony quite yet. Instead, he was content to wear a white shirt and black trousers.
His valet only nodded. Henry wasn’t without curiosity, but his tact was greater. He didn’t say a word about the messed-up sheets or the fact that Jordan couldn’t stop smiling.
“Is your leg better, Your Grace?” Henry asked after he was shaved and dressed.
Jordan nodded, the question taking him aback. Not because Henry had asked it, but due more to the fact that this was the first time he’d given his leg any attention.
“Yes,” he said, hearing the surprise in his own voice.
Before he left the room he gave Henry instructions about the preparations for his wedding. He would be at the church exactly at two o’clock.
He headed for Reese’s room, certain his friend hadn’t awakened yet. He knocked twice and waited.
Reese had always been ambitious as well as patriotic. Perhaps he should have expected his friend to do something as outrageous as steal Martha’s ship.
He could understand ambition. He’d had his share of it when attached to the War Office. Each man was desperate to make his mark and attract the attention of his superiors.
But Martha wasn’t working contrary to the interests of her country. As one of the heirs to York Armaments, anything Martha devised or invented would probably be turned over to the company. They had a long and prosperous working relationship with the British government.
Reese, however, evidently believed he could circumvent proper channels and make a name for himself at the same time. No doubt his superiors in the War Office would be interested in a self-contained ship that could, without incurring casualties, target an enemy vessel. All the better if they didn’t have to work to get it.
He knocked a third time and the door was finally opened by a blinking Reese dressed only in trousers.
“Can’t sleep?” Reese asked, threading his fingers through his hair. “Matrimonial nerves?”
“More like preventing a theft,” he said, pushing against the door. “Or are you going to deny you’ve stolen theGoldfish?”
Reese stumbled back.
“A goldfish? What the hell are you talking about, Jordan?”
“Martha’s ship, the newest York Torpedo Ship,” he said. “I hear you’ve stashed it in your carriage. Is it true?”
“You can’t come in here,” Reese said, glancing toward the bed.
For the first time Jordan realized the other man wasn’t alone. There was a person-sized lump in Reese’s bed, but the woman had burrowed beneath the covers until not even her hair showed.
“Seducing the maids, Reese?”
“There’s a plethora of attractive females at Griffin House,” he said. “I would advise you to do the same at Sedgebrook, but I suspect your bride will only allow you to hire ugly women.”
Although he would have preferred to have no witnesses to this encounter, Jordan had no intention of leaving until he got some kind of answer.
“Well? Are you going to admit it?”
