Page 12

Chapter Six

Rafferty leaned back against the desk with a sigh of relief, pushing the drawer closed again. She’d searched the place, had she? If he could find out exactly where she’d looked, it could make his life easier, but there was no way he could come right out and ask her.

She hadn’t seen what he was doing—there was no earthly reason for a butler to be searching his master’s private papers, but she’d been too startled to see him to realize.

He’d come up with the perfect excuse for the loosened bricks in the fireplace, and he knew that she was inclined to be gullible, at least where he was concerned.

He looked around the room, one last glance to make sure he hadn’t missed any possible hiding place, and then sighed. He hadn’t expected it to be easy.

And Miss Georgiana Manning in her soft white nightgown with the lacy shawl had been far too potent a distraction.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to spank her or to.

..no, he wasn’t going there. She’d been unforgivably stupid to come searching for some intruder with a flimsy fire poker in her hand.

Mind you, he’d known a woman who could cause considerable damage with one, but that didn’t mean someone like Georgie would have the wherewithal to use it.

He was going to have a talk with her, in the daylight, when they were both formally dressed, about the dangers of wandering the house at night when she thought someone might be afoot.

First, because he couldn’t have her walking in on him while he was searching, and second, what if it had been someone like Stiles?

Billy Stiles wouldn’t hesitate to use his knife, and he wouldn’t want anyone left behind to tell the authorities about him.

And he couldn’t have her running around in her nightgown.

He was only human, after all, and he was having a hard time thinking of Georgie as a child.

Most women he knew were mothers by the age of twenty, and even if she’d led a sheltered existence, she was still an enticing young woman, damn it. And he couldn’t afford to be enticed.

He needed to keep his mind off his cock. He had a job to do and limited time before Stiles came after him - he couldn’t afford to let Georgiana Manning get in his way. Even if he wanted her to.

Georgie liked to think of herself as a practical soul.

Her lifetime of being Not the Beauty had convinced her that fairy tales and handsome princes weren’t for the likes of her.

She knew her future better than anyone. They would marry her off to the first man who showed the slightest bit of interest, but so far, few people even knew she existed.

In fact, Georgie had considered it most likely that she’d never marry at all, and she’d remain a comfort to her parents. Not that either of them found her that comfortable—she had an unfortunate habit of saying what she thought, which tended to make everyone angry.

And after they died, she’d become an unpaid nanny to Norah’s brood of children, though the vision of Norah as a mother was equally elusive. Norah would probably want them drowned at birth.

In fact, her day-to-day life was mostly uneventful, and her future had looked undeniably drab. Until Rafferty had walked into her life.

Well, in fact, she’d walked into his. If it weren’t for her, he’d probably still be down at the docks, begging.

Interesting that his supposed war injuries had disappeared once he’d joined their household, but then Norah had told her that those who begged were able-bodied enough to make an honest living.

She still had her doubts, but clearly Rafferty was able-bodied.

Not that she should be thinking about Rafferty’s body, but the last twenty-four hours had been such a whirlwind that she thought about everything possible to explain the state she was in.

She was confused, giddy, depressed, energized, and exhausted, and she couldn’t figure out why.

All she knew was that it centered around Rafferty, and the way he’d looked last night, rumpled and gorgeous.

There was no denying he was handsome—without that beard, he had a strong face that bordered on beauty, as her mother had unfortunately noticed.

His blue-green eyes were such a strange color that they practically seemed to glow, his dark hair was thick and still too long for his post, and his mouth was. ..

She could imagine kissing that mouth. It would be very different than kissing Harry Trenton, son of the only country neighbors her mother had found acceptable.

That had been a sore disappointment—all slobbering lips and heavy breathing.

She had the sneaking suspicion that Rafferty would know just how to kiss.

And she liked how tall he was. His long legs and his strong back and arms. Of course, that was probably just happenstance—every girl must have some perfect man in mind, and Rafferty just happened to fit her particular taste in men.

There’d be other tall men with gorgeous eyes and beautiful mouths. Men with position and money.

And they’d be for Norah. Which was utterly fine with her—Norah could have anyone she wanted. As long as she kept away from Rafferty.

Not that Georgie was in love with him. That was absurd, everybody knew that.

He was the butler. But she felt responsible for him—after all, he was her protégé.

It was no wonder she had a special...affection for him.

Nothing wrong with that—she loved grumpy old Bertha too.

In fact, she was much closer to Bertha than was considered proper in society—one didn’t make friends of one’s servants.

But Bertha was her friend. And so was Rafferty. And the fact that she was still buzzing from the feel of his strong hands on her feet was understandable—she’d been in pain and he’d soothed it. She certainly wasn’t about to fall in love with her doctor, was she? No, it was simple gratitude.

She scooted up in bed, wiggling her toes. Despite her late night foray, she was up early, hoping against hope that Rafferty would bring her breakfast, but instead, a maid brought it, a young girl Georgie had never seen before, and when Georgie had asked her where Rafferty was, she’d shrugged.

“Dunno, miss,” she said. “But Bertha says I was to bring this to you and you were to eat everything or she’d have something to say about it.”

Considering that the breakfast was sumptuous compared to the lean meals they’d recently been having, Georgie had no problem devouring everything. But when a different maid came to retrieve the tray, she was even more confused.

“Who are you?”

“Jane, miss.” The girl said. Her uniform didn’t fit her gangly, undernourished form, but she seemed cheerful enough. “Me and me friend Betsey are learning on the job, Rafferty says.”

“Rafferty hired you?”

“Yes, miss. It’s a big house, but Betsey and me can make do. Easier than earning it on the streets, that’s what I say, though Betsey’s not so sure.”

“You earned your living on the streets?” Georgie asked, fascinated. “What did you do?”

The girl glowered. “Never you mind, miss. Rafferty warned me to watch out for you and your questions. There are some things you’re better off not knowing about.”

But Georgie was possessed of a lively curiosity. “Did you sell your body? Not that I’d blame you. I’d sell my body for food any day.”

Jane recognized a sympathetic ear and her reservations fled. She shook her head. “Sometimes it’s just to get off your feet for a few minutes. The ones I hates is when you’re down on your knees on cobblestones. Good thing they don’t last long.”

“Why would you be down on your knees?” Georgie said, mystified.

“Uh...no reason, miss,” Jane said hurriedly. “This is hard work, but the grub is good. And we’d do anything for Rafferty, me and Betsey both.”

She felt a sudden, niggling sting of jealousy. “Are you in love with him?”

Jane grinned. “Who ain’t? Not for the likes of us, though, unless we fancy a one-nighter. Rafferty’s hard to pin down.”

“Where is he now?”

“Don’t know, miss. I can get you anything you want,” Jane said helpfully.

Can you get me Rafferty? she thought with a pang. “When you see him, would you ask him to come to my room?”

“Sure thing, Miss Georgiana.” Jane took a couple of steps closer, peering at Georgie. “ You’re not in love with him, are you, Miss? Coz that would be a big mistake. If he’s not for the likes of us, then he’s certainly no good for a real lady.”

Georgie let out a convincing laugh. “No, of course not. I merely want to find out how his first day went.”

Jane gave her a suspicious glance. “I’ll tell him, miss. If I see him.”

He didn’t come. She’d waited, determined to still be abed when he came to her room.

He could sit on her bed while she lay beneath the covers and tell her all about his day, and he would make her laugh, and he might even touch her, a casual touch.

She could tell him her feet still hurt and maybe he’d rub them again, but no, that was a terrible idea, because it felt too good and surely something that felt that good must be sinful.

Not that she was overly concerned with sin.

Despite the vicar’s hell and damnation sermons, Georgie had a different view of God as someone forgiving of even the most stubborn sinner, someone who found her amusing, not wicked.

It was much more comfortable that way. Her God hadn’t gifted her with beauty like Norah, but he’d given her a strong back and an optimistic heart.

She knew that however her life turned out, she could be happy.

And she knew she certainly didn’t love Rafferty. She might, just possibly, have the tiniest bit of a crush on him, but that was all. Nothing to worry about.

She heard the light tap on her door and a little thrill ran through her. She sat up, a bright smile on her face, when Jane opened the door carrying a brown paper-wrapped parcel.

“What’s this?”

“Dunno, miss. It just arrived,” Jane replied, moving to the fire to sweep up the ashes.

Georgie reached for it. It was heavy, and she looked for a message, any kind of hint as to where it had come from. The paper was plain brown and the string unremarkable, but for some reason she wasn’t going to open it while Jane was bustling around.

It seemed to take her forever, though in fact it couldn’t have been any longer than five minutes to lay a new fire, scoop up the dirty dishes, and depart in a whirl of skirts. Only then did Georgie address the package on her lap, tearing off the wrappings.

It was the most beautiful pair of walking shoes that she’d ever seen in her life.

Made of soft brown leather with blue leather trim, they were beautifully shaped, and she knew if she didn’t fit them, she’d still wear them and suffer the consequences.

But they would fit her perfectly, because Rafferty had provided them, though she had no idea how he managed in such a short time.

She slipped one on, and it was soft and buttery, like a glove, hugging her foot gently. With silk stockings, it would fit perfectly, and she sighed in utter delight, hugging the shoes to her breast.

Maybe she was in love with him after all.