Bodice Ripper

"And so soon before his death?" Mary set her utensils down. "That seems suspicious, don't you think?"

"I couldn't say, Ma'am. I only know that I was contacted a month prior, with the offer of work, by a solicitor named Roy Stump. He claimed to work for the Geis estate, who wished to retain the services of a steward for his estate."

"My father is dead, sir, and whatever he's offered to pay you is not available."

"Surely I can work until the title is resolved, and then I can petition the new Lord…or Lady Geis for wage."

He was too young for a proper steward, Mary thought. He might have only just gotten out of university. What on earth would her father be thinking to hire such a person, even if he hired him through a representative?

"I presume you have some proof of your claims?"

Mr. Poole turned back to face her, keeping his eyes decidedly downcast. He reached into his coat pocket and produced a folded piece of paper, which he held at arm's length. Davis, who had been standing off to the side, took the paper and walked it over to her.

She opened it and started to skim over the text. Indeed, she was vaguely aware of Mr. Stump. Her father had mentioned him before. Here was her father's signature, and the signature of a James Poole. It seemed as if everything was in order, and he was offering to work without pay until someone with authority could address things.

He sounded positively desperate to work. She looked it over. A spy might be able to get such a piece of paper. The desperation was too obvious to ignore, as well. Whatever his intention was, she was certain that he would be playing into her enemies' hands somehow.

But the saying goes, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. She had no friends that she could be certain of. So she set the letter down.

"You know we won't be able to pay you, Mr. Poole."

"Yes, ma'am. Until someone else comes, I will have to wait. I understand, but please don't send me away."

"Very well." Mary took another bite, as if she had already moved on. The reality was that her mind was racing with possibilities. "Davis, see him to one of the guest bedrooms, will you? Our new steward has come all the way from London, and I'm sure he's very tired."

4

James

James sat back in the large chair that served for the desk in his new room. Rather, the room he was staying in. His bags were in a small stack in the corner. He'd need to move them over to the dressers before he could start working.

He had known that there was a young woman here. The Baron's daughter. Somehow, he'd assumed that Miss Geis would be younger, or older, or somehow…less. He'd come in expecting to see an employer, and instead he'd seen a woman.

And what a woman, indeed. She hadn't been wearing anything under that dress—that much had been obvious. What it said about her character spoke volumes, but it said less about her than it did about the shape of her curves.

It implied her naked body readily, and the image it conjured up was not one that he would soon forget. What's more, he had worried that it might show on his face that he had noticed. However the stony-faced butler had managed to ignore it was beyond the young lawyer.

No, he thought. He would need to sequester himself in the study if he were to get any work done at all. If he weren't careful, he could spend all day looking at a woman like that. Fire-red hair and a body that looked like it was built for making children…he shook his head.

She was also a Lord's daughter, and though she may not be the heir to his title, she was so far off-limits that he should leave her be even in his dreams.

He picked up the luggage easily and set it on the bed, unzipping and pulling the clothes out in large folded stacks, hanging what he could and stowing the rest in drawers.

There was a lot of work to be done here. At the bottom of the bag, so as to seem inconspicuous, he had hidden another ledger, and folded into it he had a receipt of the Geis family accounts from the Bank of London. When he'd seen it, he had nearly blanched.

Surely they had some form of income that he wasn't aware of. It was hardly unusual for a family of this stature. If they did, though, then he hoped that it would pay out for them soon. Their accounts were utterly in shambles.

James needed the money from this job, and he needed it soon. In a week or so, he was sure that someone would come to call on the home and things with the Geis title would be settled. Then he could make his claim, and when that happened he would need to have shown that, if nothing else, he had done what was expected of him and earned the back-pay he hoped for.

He certainly had his work cut out for him, though. Before he could begin to set things in order, he would need to figure out where the money was going, and then staunch the outward flow as much as possible. He picked up the ledger and moved over toward the study.

He'd had Davis show him where it was on the way to his room, but he hadn't gone in. He tried the door and found it unlocked, so he pushed it open and stepped inside.

For a moment he thought there might have been a mistake. Surely this wasn't right. The room was an absolute mess. Had the maids simply been ignoring the room? Or were they left with instructions to stay out? He made a mental note to talk to Davis about it and see what was what.

Before that, though, work.

He took