Page 13 of Tender Blackguard

And—it seemed—utterly undeniable.

Chapter Five

A curt knock on Lark’s door drew her attention from the ledger she was updating. The interruption was unexpected but welcome. Keeping the household accounts was a dull and unpleasant practice. Anything that might take her away from it, even for a moment, was fine with her.

“Come in.”

The door opened to reveal the butler’s tall and ancient form.

“Pardon the intrusion, Mrs. Evans.” His words were always slow and deliberate, as were his movements. As though everything he did had been carefully thought out to the tiniest detail and was executed with precise care.

Lark rose to her feet and stepped out from behind her desk to stand beside it. Taking her cue from the senior servant’s supremely formal manner, she replied in a like tone. “Not at all, Mr. Gideon. Welcome.” As the older senior servant stepped across the threshold, he made sure to keep the door wide open behind him. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I understand you are likely busy,” he noted with a flicker of his gaze to the open ledger on her desk, “but if I might have just a moment of your time.”

“Of course. Please, sit down.” She gestured to the pair of armchairs positioned before the fire.

The butler approached the nearest chair and waited for Lark to join him and take her seat before claiming his own. When he did, he was stiff-backed and stern jawed. His hands rested evenly on his knees and his gaze was directed slightly downward.

The epitome of decorum and propriety. As a butler should be.

But Lark noticed a telltale twitch of suppressed curiosity at the corner of one eyebrow and the way his pinky finger of his left hand seemed desperate to start tapping.

He was not so contained as he appeared.

She smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Mr. Gideon?”

A gaze shadowed by the heavy bush of thick iron-gray eyebrows lifted to meet hers. Clearing his throat, he took his time forming his words.

Lark waited patiently.

“Mrs. Evans, you’ve been in our household for more than a week now,” he stated as though the fact might be news to her. When she didn’t respond, he nodded then continued. “For obvious reasons, I admit to having doubts about you in the beginning.” His gaze flickered over her face and person as he spoke, making it clear what those reasons were.

Lark forced herself not to roll her eyes. Old men would always see youth and femininity as a detriment in matters of skill and aptitude. Again, she said nothing, allowing the butler to speak his piece in his own time.

And a few moments later, he did.

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