ANNE ASHLEY - Miss In A Man's World

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THE UNMASKING OF MISS GREY With her beloved godfather’s death shrouded in scandal, the impetuous Miss Georgiana Grey disguises herself as a boy and heads to London to discover the truth. Being hired as the notorious Viscount Fincham’s page helps Georgie’s investigations, but plays havoc with her heart…She returns home, disastrously in love with her high-handed protector, only to discover she must return to London for the Season! She comes face-to-face with Fincham at a lavish ball, and her true identity and outrageous deception are unmasked…

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After washing his own hair, his lordship allowed Napes to pour a pitcher of warm water over his head, and then leaned back, happy to relax for longer than usual as he had nothing planned for what little remained of the morning. For a moment or two he absently studied the valet’s progress, as Napes went about the dressing room collecting various discarded items of clothing, before his mind returned to the matter that had so occupied his thoughts during the early hours before sleep had finally claimed him.

‘Tell me, Napes, have you had the felicity of making the acquaintance of the most recent addition to the household staff?’

‘Indeed I have, my lord,’ he answered in a flat tone that betrayed his complete lack of interest in the new arrival.

His lordship wasn’t unduly surprised by this indifference. Only in matters of dress did his valet betray the least animation. ‘Has the boy broken his fast?’

This did cause the valet to betray a look of mild surprise. ‘I believe so, my lord. He was in the kitchen with Cook earlier, chattering away about something or other. Will there be anything else, my lord? If not, I shall take these soiled items down to the laundry and return presently with clean linen.’

Through narrowed eyes his lordship followed the valet’s progress across to the door. ‘Yes, do that, Napes. But send the boy up with the linen, and then return yourself. I rather fancy indulging in a long soak this morning.’

It was some ten minutes later before there was a slight scratch on the door. Experiencing a sense of grim satisfaction, his lordship bade enter, and then watched the most recent acquisition to his household take a step or two into the room, before stopping dead in her tracks. Violet eyes, betraying a marked degree of mingled embarrassment and doubt, widened noticeably, before lowering to consider some imaginary spot on the floor.

‘I—I’m s-sorry, my lord. Mr Napes quite failed to mention you were still at your ablutions. Where shall I put these?’

‘Oh, just put them down anywhere, child, and pass me the towel,’ he responded with supreme unconcern, while quite deliberately raising himself slowly from the concealing waters of the hipbath. ‘Look lively, lad!’

The mild rebuke was sufficient to regain the page’s full attention. Then a look of fascinated horror, not to mention utter disbelief, gripped delicate features as those striking orbs remained glued to a certain portion of his lordship’s anatomy located between the waist and the knees. A stifled exclamation of alarm quickly followed, the pile of recently laundered shirts was tossed in the air and then fell to the floor as though so many worthless rags, a moment before Master Green fled the room as though the devil himself were nipping at her heels.

Highly amused by the outcome of his little experiment, his lordship gave vent to a roar of appreciative laughter, uncaring whether it could be heard or not by his unconventional and highly discomposed young page.

‘That,’ he murmured, as he wrapped himself in a huge towel and wandered through to his bedchamber again, ‘was most illuminating. Though not particularly flattering, now I come to consider the matter. I’ve never had any unfavourable comments about my manly attributes before!’

‘Beg pardon, my lord.’ Like a cat on the prowl, Napes had slipped silently into the room. There was in his eye a watchful look, as he made his way towards the dressing table where his master sat, running a comb through his damp hair. There was a suggestion, too, of peevishness about the valet’s mouth.

His lordship could hazard a fairly shrewd guess as to why his valet felt aggrieved, but chose not to pander to the excellent dresser’s feelings of wounded pride at having had an underling usurp his exalted place in the dressing room and raised one hand in a dismissive gesture. ‘Merely thinking aloud, Napes,’ he assured him, and then watched as the servant disappeared into the adjoining room.

The strangled cry that quickly followed came as no great surprise to his lordship either. Nor, it had to be said, did the subsequently voiced strictures on allowing unskilled menials to handle clothing of such fine quality.

‘For heaven’s sake, calm yourself, man!’ his lordship ordered. ‘The confounded garments aren’t ruined.’

‘None the less, my lord, the boy must learn to take more care of your belongings if … if you wish him to share my duties. He should be punished for such tardiness.’

When this advice was followed by a decided sniff, his lordship raised his eyes ceilingwards. ‘Be assured, Napes, the child was not hired to replace you, or to relieve you of any of your duties. I merely wished to satisfy myself over—’ His lordship checked abruptly. ‘I merely wished to satisfy myself that he had slept well. All the same, your remarks are timely,’ he added, staring thoughtfully into the glass before him, as he confined his long hair at the nape of his neck with a length of ribbon. ‘Ring for Brindle!’

Whilst awaiting the arrival of his major-domo, the Viscount proceeded to dress himself. Although he allowed his valet to remove the smallest of specks from his clothes and polish his boots and shoes to a looking-glass shine, he preferred, with the exception of his coats, to don his own garments, and always tied his neckcloths himself.

‘You sent for me, my lord,’ the butler said, entering the room in time to witness the valet assisting his lordship into a coat of dark green velvet.

‘I did, Brindle.’ He turned, favouring the high-ranking servant with his full attention. ‘Mark me well … No one, and I mean no one, is to lay violent hands on my new page. If the child commits any slight misdemeanour …’ he couldn’t resist smiling to himself ‘… and I suspect he will commit many, you, and you alone, are to guide him in a gentle, understanding way. If he should seriously transgress, you are to inform me and I shall deal with the matter personally.’

He paused for a moment before adding, ‘I shall be most displeased if I discover my orders have been disobeyed over this matter. Is that understood?’

‘Perfectly, my lord.’

‘And you, Napes …?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Good. Now you may be about your duties. And you, Brindle, locate Master Green’s whereabouts and request him to await me in the library.’

Although the butler automatically bowed and withdrew, his face wore a decidedly thoughtful expression as he made his way down the back stairs to the kitchen, where he found the page happily assisting the cook to shell peas at the large table.

The youth had been there for most of the morning, chattering away quite knowledgeably about various domestic practices to Mrs Willard and helping her out where he could. Clearly the cook had already taken a keen liking to the boy. Perhaps the lad had aroused her motherly instincts, for generally she ruled the kitchen with an iron hand and would brook no interference from anyone. The scullery maid and the boots knew well not to get under her feet and she wasn’t above giving the youngest footman a sound box round the ear, if he happened to catch her in a bad mood. Yet Master Green, seemingly, could do no wrong in her eyes.

And it had to be said the child was no harum-scarum guttersnipe, Brindle considered fair-mindedly, as he made his way towards the large wooden structure taking pride of place in the centre of the room. Not only was the lad well mannered, he spoke, amazingly enough, in a very genteel fashion. Yes, Master Green was something of a mystery.

‘You are to attend his lordship, child.’

There was a suspicion of alarm in the eyes that were raised to the butler’s impassive countenance. ‘Not in his bedchamber, I trust?’

‘It isn’t for you to question where his lordship wishes to see you!’ Napes admonished, entering the kitchen in time to hear the decidedly nervous response.

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