Page 20 of Desperately Seeking Seduction

Stratford studied her face and reluctantly admired her pluck. He wasn’t so much angry anymore as embarrassed. He was also curious about why she would have done this to them. She must have known the risk to her reputation upon taking up a position with a bachelor.

A valet’s life, and their duties, was not an easy life, either. But then, neither again was a maid’s lot, and they often had the men they worked for pawing at them.

Carefully, he loosened his grip on Win’s arm, reluctantly admiring the way she did not shrink away from him or run off screaming. She had pulled off the impossible, it seemed. Parading about as a man couldn’t have been easy, but she did it so well. How was he to have known it was all a deception?

She must have had a good reason for her masquerade. He did not recognize her from society. But she had been most insistent that he take her on as his valet and accompany him home. “Why would you want to be a valet? My valet in particular?”

She licked her lips again, and a reaction he needed to ignore assailed him. It was not a gesture intended to arouse his interest, but it had. Stratford liked women. He’d liked Dane Winston the valet from the start. Even when she wouldn’t talk back to him.

Stratford had been brought up to protect women, even from the folly of their own actions.

Unfortunately, this she was remarkably handsome when she had worked herself into a temper. Win was not the vacuous sort who usually sought him out for company in society. No wonder he’d always tried to get a rise out of her. Deep down, he’d known she was different. Winston had struck him as an educated and too serious young man. Someone dependable who ought to learn to laugh at the world. She’d also been someone who’d promised not to cause him any trouble.

But women were always trouble.

It would take time to decide how much trouble this mistake of his might cause in the end. Win was undoubtedly a bluestocking to the tips of her fastidious fingers. Being a woman explained Stratford’s confusion about her age. She really could be closer in age to himself.

Win shook her head. “Are you ready to change for luncheon?”

“I’m not going to luncheon,” he warned her.

“Of course you are,” she said as she stepped around him and hurried to pour water into the wash basin, making ready for Stratford to rinse his face before being shaved.

It was exactly what a valet would normally do for him. Yet seeing this particular woman doing the duties of a valet caused him no end of embarrassment. He should have sensed the difference long before now. Usually, he hardly noticed Cuthbert except when he didn’t answer him. But when Win was around, hadn’t he gone out of his way to make her notice him? He’d been alert to every sound and move she made, which was different to his normal awareness of other servants.

Stratford attempted to take the jug out of her hands. “Give me that,” he insisted.

“No. It is a valet’s duty,” she protested, holding him off.

Stratford sighed. “We both know you cannot continue as my valet,” he protested, succeeding in gaining control over the jug at last. “I can look after myself, you know.”

“You could have done it every other day, too, but never bothered. Why start now?” Win countered, one brow raised, even while attempting to claim the jug back.

Stratford lifted the jug high to see if she would jump for it.

She poked him in the ribs instead, and he instinctively lowered his arms to protect his sensitive sides. The jug was snatched back and returned to its usual place.

“You fight dirty,” he complained. “How have you managed this ruse for so long? You must have had help.”

“Wash for luncheon first and I’ll explain everything,” she demanded, and for some reason, Stratford did as he was told, and threw some water off his face.

He dried his skin and then glanced down at Winston again.

Win.

He would miss Winston the valet. He’d no regrets about hiring that fellow. But Winston the woman was an entirely different kettle of fish.

“Waistcoat off, shirt next,” she demanded, all business.

Stratford paused. “So, if you don’t want to marry me, I hope you’re not here with plans of seducing my brothers.”

Win snorted a laugh. “Is that how you view all women? Each with an eye to luring one of you into a marriage? Such arrogance. I’m sorry to disappoint you, my lord, but I’d rather not be that miserable.”

Stratford was profoundly relieved by her words, and yet offended by her remark. He wouldn’t make his wife miserable. Not deliberately anyway. But many a family would gladly wed their daughter to the new Duke of Ravenswood, or his relations, if they could. Whether she cared for the match or not, too.

He let his gaze skim down Win’s body again. Slender, boyish, with no hint of a bust that he could see even now. He caught Win by the hand and pulled her into his arms, just to be certain his gut was correct. As his hand skimmed naturally from shoulder to waist, he detected thick wrappings held tight to her upper back. “You bind your bosom flat?”

Win wrenched out of his arms immediately, cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. “You cannot be late for luncheon.”