Daughter of Darkness by Janet Woods Page B

looking manservant to whom she was issuing instructions. Gerard couldn’t recall ever seeing him before.
    ‘You will assist the earl’s hand to his son’s head for the blessing, Grey. Like thus.’ She placed her hand delicately on the recumbent form and smiled down at him. ‘You will not mind if I demonstrate the procedure to this oaf, father?’
    A lump in his throat threatened to choke him when he saw his father’s eyelids flutter.
    His wife’s glance came back to Grey. ‘First you must impress on my husband the method of communication the earl has developed. Remember? One blink for yes and two for no. You will be careful the earl does not overtire himself.’
    ‘Yes, mistress.’ The servant gave an indulgent smile when she bent and kissed his father’s cheek. ‘Don’t you worry, mistress. The earl won’t come to no harm with me looking after him.’
    The man was too familiar. About to step forward and intervene, he observed his wife frown. ‘I appreciate that you wish to repay the debt of your daughter’s life by serving the earl, but you must learn some respect.’
    ‘I offer my life as forfeit for yours,’ Grey said simply. ‘Be that respect enough?’
    ‘Then what use would you be to me or the earl?’ Gerard grinned at the asperity in his lady’s voice. ‘Arguing with you is like arguing with a mule, John Grey, only you are twice as stubborn.’
    ‘Yes, My Lady.’
    She turned and wagged a finger at him. ‘Make sure you treat my husband with proper deference. He is skilled with the sword. If your tongue detours from its proper place he will most surely slice it off before you can recoil it. Much as that would relieve my ears, I cannot spare the time to sew it on again. Is that settled?’
    ‘Yes, My Lady.’
    ‘Good.’ She gazed at the earl again. ‘I’m going now, Ambrose. Edward is expecting me this hour. If this travelling pugilist gives you any trouble you will tell me and I’ll cut out his liver and feed it to the hounds.’
    Gerard chuckled at the thought of this dainty creature performing such an aggressive act.
    ‘Oh.’ Her violet eyes widened and color suffused her cheeks. Sinking to the floor in a whisper of silken skirts she spread her fan across her face to hide her blush. ‘I did not expect you so soon, sir.’
    Bathed, and shorn of his beard, Gerard was younger and more handsome than Willow had expected. The stern look to his fine, hawkish features made her wish she hadn’t been quite so forward with him in the study. His eyes were quite penetrating. A knot of apprehension gathered in her midriff and she lowered her eyes, suddenly shy.
    ‘Get up, Madam.’ Assisting her to her feet Gerard brushed the fan aside and lazily evaluated her. The child was still there, apparent in the air of innocence she presented. Still petite, she’d blossomed into a beauty. The soft swell of her bosom was just hinted at through the lace of her fichu. Her skin was unblemished and unadorned, possessing a pale translucence that others strove to emulate through artifice. Her long silky lashes quivered slightly, then her eyelids slid upwards. She darted him a swift, curious glance before lowering them again. Her eyes were exquisite, like dark sapphires.
    Aware he was still holding her hand, he brushed her fingers gently with his lips. ‘We meet again, wife. I pray my appearance no longer invites your censure, and my odor no longer offends.’
    For a moment she looked as though she was about to run, then amusement flared in her eyes. Disengaging her hand, she whispered. ‘My compliments to your servant sir. He seems to be as skilled with soap and a razor as his master is with a sword.’
    ‘Prettily said, Madam.’ He made her a small bow. ‘I’ll not return the compliment to your servant. What nature has provided you with needs no enhancement. You’re exquisite just a you are, and your manners show a distinct improvement.’
    ‘Thank you My Lord, but I have no disposition towards