what’s been filling your gaze this day, Venus’s gate will be barred to you for all time.”
“Well then, I’m doomed already,” Kit snapped again, still irritated but newly resolved to be more distant when next he and Mistress Anne met. “My quarry had a good look at me outside the Presence Chamber yesterday.”
Bertie held up his hands. “Master, I’m only trying to aid you,” he cried, a shade too much laughter in his voice to carry off his protest of innocence.
Well and truly wounded by Bertie’s attempt to school him in the lover’s art, Kit glared at his servant. With his next breath came the means to give Bertie a thrust in return. Laughter strained at Kit’s throat. He returned his gaze to the road, staring at the narrow line of muck as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
“Since you’re so eager to aid me in this, there might be something you could do,” he said, baiting his trap.
“What’s that?” his manservant asked. The new interest in his tone suggested he circled Kit’s hook, not quite ready to bite.
“Nay,” Kit said, creasing his brow as if in consideration. He let the quiet drag out long enough to tease Bertie’s interest then shook his head to convey that his yet-unspoken request was quite beyond his man’s capabilities to achieve. “Never mind. It’s just a wayward thought and wouldn’t serve at all.”
“What? Speak,” Bertie insisted, now eager for a chance at the bait.
“Well, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you my thoughts,” Kit said, “although it isn’t the sort of thing one man asks another to do. Bertie, you say a man must find a way around the barriers a woman sets to discourage others, thus forcing his image into her mind. In this woman’s case, I think there’s but one barrier: her servant. What a boon it would be if you could win her maidservant’s heart, thus opening that door for me.”
When he finished Kit offered his man a sorry smile as he waved away his own request. “Foolish of me, I know.”
Bertie stared at him in blatant surprise. “You want me to seduce a woman? You, who is ever chiding me that I will lose my cock if I’m not careful where I put it?!”
Kit sighed sadly. “I told you it was but an errant notion. Besides, it’s quite impossible, even for a man of your talents.” However honest this warning, Kit knew without doubt he’d just firmly fixed the hook in Bertie’s mouth.
“Impossible!” His man came bolt upright in his saddle, blind to the fact he was now swimming to the end of Kit’s string. “There’s no woman in the world I cannot conquer.”
Such arrogance deserved its comeuppance. Kit formed his face into an expression of grateful innocence. “Glad I am to hear it. How long do you think such a thing would take you? A week? Two?”
“Two weeks?” Bertie scoffed, sounding insulted at the notion. “It hasn’t taken me that long to win a woman since my twelfth year.”
Kit let his breath gust from him as if deeply relieved. “Glad I am to hear your confidence for I was certain this woman might be immune to any man’s charm, even yours.”
A flash of concern shot through his servant’s pretty eyes. “Why?”
Kit rubbed his gloved hand over his mouth to contain his grin. “Perhaps, it would be better if I showed you. Follow me,” he said.
Turning their horses, they trotted down the long line of wagons that creaked and groaned their way down the road, their big wheels squealing through the muck. The wagons were pulled by massive dray horses or teams of bellowing oxen. Furnishings filled their boxes—chairs, chests of plate, trunks of linens. And beds, whole wagons worth of disassembled beds. What didn’t belong to the queen belonged to her courtiers, for no man with a rank high enough to claim a bedchamber went abroad without his own furnishings.
Kit pointed to the cart belonging to Old Amyas. “There. Do you see that woman in brown walking beside yon wagon? That’s
“Well then, I’m doomed already,” Kit snapped again, still irritated but newly resolved to be more distant when next he and Mistress Anne met. “My quarry had a good look at me outside the Presence Chamber yesterday.”
Bertie held up his hands. “Master, I’m only trying to aid you,” he cried, a shade too much laughter in his voice to carry off his protest of innocence.
Well and truly wounded by Bertie’s attempt to school him in the lover’s art, Kit glared at his servant. With his next breath came the means to give Bertie a thrust in return. Laughter strained at Kit’s throat. He returned his gaze to the road, staring at the narrow line of muck as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
“Since you’re so eager to aid me in this, there might be something you could do,” he said, baiting his trap.
“What’s that?” his manservant asked. The new interest in his tone suggested he circled Kit’s hook, not quite ready to bite.
“Nay,” Kit said, creasing his brow as if in consideration. He let the quiet drag out long enough to tease Bertie’s interest then shook his head to convey that his yet-unspoken request was quite beyond his man’s capabilities to achieve. “Never mind. It’s just a wayward thought and wouldn’t serve at all.”
“What? Speak,” Bertie insisted, now eager for a chance at the bait.
“Well, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you my thoughts,” Kit said, “although it isn’t the sort of thing one man asks another to do. Bertie, you say a man must find a way around the barriers a woman sets to discourage others, thus forcing his image into her mind. In this woman’s case, I think there’s but one barrier: her servant. What a boon it would be if you could win her maidservant’s heart, thus opening that door for me.”
When he finished Kit offered his man a sorry smile as he waved away his own request. “Foolish of me, I know.”
Bertie stared at him in blatant surprise. “You want me to seduce a woman? You, who is ever chiding me that I will lose my cock if I’m not careful where I put it?!”
Kit sighed sadly. “I told you it was but an errant notion. Besides, it’s quite impossible, even for a man of your talents.” However honest this warning, Kit knew without doubt he’d just firmly fixed the hook in Bertie’s mouth.
“Impossible!” His man came bolt upright in his saddle, blind to the fact he was now swimming to the end of Kit’s string. “There’s no woman in the world I cannot conquer.”
Such arrogance deserved its comeuppance. Kit formed his face into an expression of grateful innocence. “Glad I am to hear it. How long do you think such a thing would take you? A week? Two?”
“Two weeks?” Bertie scoffed, sounding insulted at the notion. “It hasn’t taken me that long to win a woman since my twelfth year.”
Kit let his breath gust from him as if deeply relieved. “Glad I am to hear your confidence for I was certain this woman might be immune to any man’s charm, even yours.”
A flash of concern shot through his servant’s pretty eyes. “Why?”
Kit rubbed his gloved hand over his mouth to contain his grin. “Perhaps, it would be better if I showed you. Follow me,” he said.
Turning their horses, they trotted down the long line of wagons that creaked and groaned their way down the road, their big wheels squealing through the muck. The wagons were pulled by massive dray horses or teams of bellowing oxen. Furnishings filled their boxes—chairs, chests of plate, trunks of linens. And beds, whole wagons worth of disassembled beds. What didn’t belong to the queen belonged to her courtiers, for no man with a rank high enough to claim a bedchamber went abroad without his own furnishings.
Kit pointed to the cart belonging to Old Amyas. “There. Do you see that woman in brown walking beside yon wagon? That’s
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