Teasing Your Wicked Heart

CHAPTER 3

"Who is she," he demanded, his voice wavering, as he sought for balance standing from the four-poster bed.

"I haven't a clue, my lord," his valet said dumbly and began preparing his clothes.

He very well cannot turn the guest away since she was too important that the butler had not refused her entry. So he hadn't any choice but to receive, of course.

"Fine. I will be receiving this lady." He downed the last of the contents of the bitter brew, the cook's leaves and seeds settling on the bottom of the cup.

His valet nodded in agreement, took his glass away, and prepared a fresh batch of shaving cream.

In the Seafoam parlor, Sarah Jane had begun to tap her fingers against her lap, as she waited in the brightly lit room. Trowbridge was far from the sea, but the room indeed felt as if they were near the beach.

The masters of the house had done an excellent job decorating this receiving room. She should like to receive her own guests in this room as well. But before the talk of the future...

At present, she was hungry. The ride from Thurstason had been a grudgingly long battle of wits and nerves, the constant shaking of the carriage had made her dizzy, exhausted, and in want of sustenance.

And right now, the jar of jam looked terribly appealing. It wouldn't take much for her to pry it off Mathilda's hands.

She was going to go insane if she had to wait another minute for the new Earl, who in all truth, even if he didn't want to receive them, had no right to treat them that way.

She was a lady. Heavens above, a lady! She should be properly treated like one!

Sarah Jane abruptly stood from her position and glanced around the room for something to inspect upon. At least, she mused, the Viscount had been managing the house well enough that the parlor had been kept neat and presentable.

The house seemed ancient, but the inside decors were kept pristine.

"I say, what are you doing," Mathilda scolded, as Sarah Jane stepped away from the couch.

Sarah Jane's lips automatically pursed for a ready response, but the door to the parlor had creaked open, and Mathilda scrambled to her feet to greet the new Earl.

When a small woman entered and bowed for a curtsy, they saw that it was just a maid in dark serviceable clothes. Upon seeing Sarah Jane's elegant dress, the maid's eyes became as wide as dinner plates, as if Sarah Jane had been a ghostly apparition.

With a little squeak, the maid immediately retreated and slammed the door behind her.

With an annoyed huff, Lady Sarah Jane turned around and began exploring the room.

"They haven't seen many guests here, I presume," she muttered and trailed a finger across the surface of an end table.

There were many end tables in this room. The windows were wide and open that had elegant white cornices with intricate detailing. It would be such a trouble to keep those crevices clean, she said to herself.

The curtains were a pale shade of sage that draped over lacy white and heavy damask. The ropes that gathered the rich textiles to the side were braided gold and adorned with golden roses as well. If she hadn't known who she was visiting, she would have expected the home to have belonged to a duke. Well, maybe a little impoverished duke due to the size of the drawing room, but an aristocratic lord who had a pocket as deep as a duke's.

"You know, Lord Killsworth must be quite old. His tastes are classical."

He should be old or married... or both, she surmised from the delicate furnishings. A young couple with unruly children would not have placed such easily damageable pieces on reachable places. The countess of the 10th Earl Rosenberg had hidden their most expensive jars and decorations when her twins became old enough to run about.