The Valet Who Loved Me Read online

  Beau rolled his eyes. Hollister’s was the duke’s favorite gambling hell. Hollister’s had given Worth carte blanche and he won and lost small fortunes there regularly.

  Kendall scratched his chin and stared blindly at his mug. “If only the ladies of the ton didn’t know I am an earl, I’d have a much better chance of finding a match.”

  Worth’s laughter filled the air. “I’d pay to see that. An earl dressed up like a common man to find true love. Has a certain poetic ring to it, don’t it?”

  Clayton laughed too and shook his head, but Beau merely narrowed his eyes further and said, “It’s not a completely outlandish idea.” He tilted his head to the side. Yes. The conversation was turning in the precise direction he’d wanted it to.

  “What’s not?” Kendall had nearly forgotten what he’d said.

  “The idea of pretending you’re a commoner to find a wife,” Beau replied.

  Worth slapped Beau on the back again. “Are you mad, man? You’re not even drinking.”

  Beau leaned forward to address his remarks directly to Kendall. “Given the right circumstances, it could work, you know?”

  “Pretending I’m common?” Kendall replied, blinking. “I don’t see how.”

  “Everyone in the ton knows him,” Clayton pointed out. “How would he ever manage it?”

  “Are you suggesting he wear a mask or alter his appearance?” Worth asked. The duke stroked his chin. His eyes began to narrow, too, as if he were also taking the idea seriously.

  Kendall glanced back and forth between Worth and Beau. “You cannot be serious, either of you. Clayton’s right. How would it ever work?”

  “No, not a costume.” Beau addressed his remarks to Worth. “I was thinking something more like the right…situation.”

  Worth leaned forward. “Such as?” he replied, drawing out both words.

  “You two are frightening me, you know?” Kendall said. “You seem as if you’re actually trying to plot out a way this ludicrous idea might work.”

  Ludicrous indeed. Beau forced himself not to smile. “Like a …house party,” Beau replied to Worth, stroking his chin and completely ignoring Kendall’s comment.

  Worth inclined his head, his eyes still narrowed. “A house party, yes. I see what you mean.”

  “But it couldn’t be just any house party, of course,” Beau continued. “It would have to be one given by someone who was in on the experiment.”

  “Experiment?” Clayton sat up straight. “There are few things I enjoy more than an experiment, and I just so happen to be about to send the invitations to my annual country house party.”

  Excellent. For his idea to work, Beau desperately needed Clayton’s help.

  “Experiment?” Kendall repeated, blinking.

  Beau snapped his fingers. “Your house party would be perfect, Clayton.”

  “Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.” Kendall sat between Beau and Worth and he pushed against their shoulders with both hands. “A house party isn’t going to change my identity. Ladies of the ton will still know who I am at a house party.”

  “He makes a good point,” Clayton replied, taking another draught of ale.

  “Not if you invite only the debutantes from this Season,” Beau replied with a confident smile. “And not if you create the right circumstances.”

  Kendall sucked in a deep breath and pushed his mug out of reach. “The ladies may not know me, but some of their mothers do. More than one of them has already been to court with an older daughter making her debut.”

  “That’s where the right circumstances come in,” Beau replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Worth scratched at his chin and smiled an even wider smile. “By God, I think you’re onto something.”

  Excellent. If Worth saw the merit of his plan, Beau stood a greater chance of convincing the other two.

  “I refuse to wear a mask if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s positively medieval,” Kendall said, shaking his head.

  “Not a mask,” Beau replied, settling back in his chair and plucking at his lower lip. Ah, plotting something was such fun.

  “Or a costume, either,” Kendall continued, pushing his mug farther away.

  “Not a costume…precisely.” Beau exchanged a wolfish grin with Worth.

  “By God, I’m going to have the best time watching this.” Worth nodded.

  “Watching what?” Clayton’s nose was scrunched. The viscount obviously hadn’t caught on yet. “I don’t know what in the devil either of you is talking about any longer.”

  “I’m talking about Kendall here pretending to be a servant,” Beau replied, the grin still on his face.

  Kendall blinked. “A servant?”

  “Yes. It’s perfect,” Worth added, nodding.

  Kendall turned and stared at the duke as if he’d lost his mind. “Perfect? Me? Being a servant? How is that perfect?”

  “That still doesn’t fix the problem of the ladies’ mothers recognizing him. Even if he’s dressed as a servant,” Clayton pointed out.

  “Ah, but it does,” Beau replied. He’d been waiting for this particular argument and was already prepared with his defense. “That’s the beauty of it. Most people don’t look at servants. They don’t pay attention to the majority of things beyond what they need and want. My training as a spy has taught me much about the human failure to notice details. I’d be willing to bet that not one of those ladies of the ton will look twice at Kendall if he’s dressed as a servant and performing servants’ duties. He’ll be wearing livery, knee breeches, and a powdered wig, after all.”

  “And it has the added advantage that a servant will be in a particularly excellent position to discover how a lady truly behaves.” Worth brushed his long dark hair off his forehead with his fingers. “I’d wager she’s at her best when addressing a potential bridegroom and at her worst when addressing a servant. God knows, I’ve seen it time and again from my mother.”

  “You’re both truly mad, you know that?” Kendall replied.

  “I dunno.” Clayton tugged at his cravat. “But it sounds like quite a lark to me. I’m perfectly willing to offer my upcoming house party as a venue for such an experiment.”

  Excellent. This was one of the advantages of his friends drinking. Ideas that might normally sound ludicrous were much easier to convince them of.

  “You’ve gone mad too, then,” Kendall replied to Clayton.

  “Think about it,” Beau said, turning his attention to Kendall, who still obviously required a bit more convincing. “It has the potential to give you precisely what you want. An unencumbered look at the latest crop of debutantes behaving precisely how they would when they don’t know you are watching.”

  Kendall narrowed his eyes on Beau. “It’s positively alarming that you don’t see the problem with this plan.”

  Beau shrugged. The more nonchalant he appeared, the better. “What problem? The risk is not too great. If anyone recognizes you, we’ll simply ask that person to play along. No doubt they’ll enjoy the game too.”

  “What if I find a lady I fancy?” Kendall replied. “Am I supposed to simply rip off my livery and declare myself an earl and expect she’ll fall madly in love with me?”

  “Not at all,” Beau said. “I’m merely suggesting that you get to know these young ladies on the basis of how they treat servants. I’ve no doubt the best-natured ones will be kind and pleasant. Once you have a few candidates, you will know who to court next Season.”

  Kendall shook his head slowly. He pulled his mug back toward his chest. Perhaps he’d decided to drink a bit more after all. “You’re suggesting that I choose a future bride on the basis of how she treats a footman?”

  Beau’s brow shot up. Enunciating each word slowly for emphasis, he asked, “How did Lady Emily treat servants?”

  “I see by the look on your face that you recognize my point,” Beau drawled as Kendall clenched his jaw.

  Beau could tell he was winning the argument. Kendall’s
face took on a thoughtful look and he bit his lip as if weighing the possibilities. It was time to introduce the most ludicrous of notions.

  “I’m willing to do it with you,” Beau tossed out as casually as possible with another shrug.

  “What?” A frown appeared on Worth’s face. “Why would you do it?”

  Beau straightened his shoulders and settled back into his chair. “Because I’ve narrowed down my hunt for the Bidassoa traitor to one of three possibilities.”

  “The man you’ve been hunting for the Home Office?” Thank Christ Worth lowered his voice as he said it.

  “Precisely the one,” Beau replied. “And if Clayton here will invite those three men to the house party, I will also pretend to be a servant to watch them.”

  Worth tossed back his head and laughed. “I should have known you had another motive all along, Bell. His Majesty’s work is never far from your mind. Even when we’re drinking.”

  Beau allowed his grin to widen. He could never fool Worth, but then again, he wasn’t trying to fool his friends. He merely wanted their assistance. “Why shouldn’t we use the opportunity for two useful pursuits instead of one? I’ll admit, I was already thinking about this plan before Kendall informed us of his search for a wife, but if it helps both of us, all the better, I say. We will truly have to behave as servants, however. We’ll have to wait on the guests and do all the tasks servants must do.”

  “Hmm. I do quite like the idea of spying going on under my roof.” Clayton took another draught of ale. “Gives the whole affair a bit of intrigue. And since I haven’t been a soldier or served His Majesty otherwise, I feel it’s my duty to say yes to this ruse. Not to mention my love of an experiment. Will you do it, Kendall?”

  Kendall drained his mug and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Now that Bell’s doing it with me, how can I refuse?”

  Beau pressed his lips together to keep from displaying a victorious smile. He still needed to ensure they were all willing to play along with this plan. Not just tonight, but in the harsh light of sobriety tomorrow morning and beyond.

  The barmaid returned with another mug of ale for Worth. The duke tossed her a coin and gave her a flirtatious grin before turning back to his friends. “I, for one, am so interested in seeing such a situation play out, not only will I attend to watch the spectacle, I will also settle a large sum on the outcome as to whether you two can pull this off. Care to bet me?”

  Beau rolled his eyes. “Everything’s a bet with you, Worth.”

  “Perhaps, but you must admit, this is a particularly tempting bet.” Worth lifted his chin. “Five hundred pounds say you are both outed by a keen-eyed mama within a sennight.”

  “I’ll take that bet!” Clayton declared, pointing a finger in the air. “You’ll be attending as a guest, I presume, Worthington.”

  Kendall’s snort of laughter interrupted Worth’s reply. “Of course he’s attending as a guest. Our mate Worth here could never pass for a footman.” Kendall shook his head sympathetically toward the duke. “You couldn’t last one night serving others, I’m afraid.”

  Worth flared his nostrils and straightened his shoulders. “I take offense to that. If you two sops can do it, surely I can.”

  Clayton puffed up his cheeks and shook his head. He didn’t meet Worth’s gaze. “Hmm. I’m not exactly certain I agree with that, old chap.”

  Worth crossed his arms over his chest and eyed the viscount. “You truly don’t think I could do it?”

  “No,” Clayton admitted, looking slightly shamefaced. “Not if you actually have to fill the role of a servant and do real chores. No.”

  Worth’s gaze swung to Beau. “You don’t think I can do it either?”

  Beau shook his head. If he actually thought his friend would be hurt by the notion, he might have pulled his punch, but Worth’s self-confidence was legendary. Besides, the duke had to know that pretending to be a servant wouldn’t be a particularly strong skill of his. “Not a chance. Apologies, Your Grace, but you’re far too used to being waited upon to wait on anyone else.”

  “But that’s how I know how to do it properly,” Worth replied, obviously annoyed by his friends’ lack of support.

  Kendall snorted. “I’m afraid seeing one serve and actually serving are two entirely different things.”

  Worth’s eyes went wide. “You’re a bloody earl for Christ’s sake. Why do you think you can serve?”

  “I may be an earl but I’m no stranger to hard work. I spent years in the Navy doing chores like picking oakum and deworming hardtack. And those two tasks were pleasant compared to some of my other tasks,” Kendall said.

  Worth smacked the table with his open palm, causing the mugs to bounce. “Fine. One thousand pounds says I can make it through the entire fortnight as a servant too. Or at least I can last longer than either of you.”

  “Now who is being mad?” Clayton waggled his eyebrows at Worth.

  “I’m quite serious.” Worth’s jaw was clenched. He clearly wasn’t about to back down. “One thousand pounds, gentlemen. Who will take the bet?”

  “I will,” all three called in unison.

  Chapter One

  Getting rid of a valet was a far simpler task than Beau had anticipated. In fact, all it had taken was a few discreet inquiries around the village where Lord Copperpot lived, a well-timed visit to a pub that milord’s valet was known to regularly frequent, and an offer of forty pounds sterling.

  The sum was undoubtedly more than the valet made in a year’s time, and the man was only too happy to declare himself extremely ill directly before he was to attend Clayton’s house party with his master.

  Beau’s cohorts at the Home Office were no strangers to feigning employment at a popular work agency in London and in the span of twenty-four short hours, Beau arrived on Copperpot’s doorstep ready to fulfill the recently vacated role of valet to his lordship.

  Beau had chosen Copperpot for several reasons. First—and most importantly—he was one of three men whom the Crown suspected of being the Bidassoa traitor. Second, Beau had never officially met Copperpot before, and that was a hefty requirement given the fact that valet or not, the man might recognize him had they been introduced. Third, and not insignificant, Copperpot was known to have a valet who liked to drink and was often short of coin. Those three reasons combined perfectly to make Copperpot the perfect nobleman for Beau to serve for the next fortnight at Clayton’s house party.

  Kendall had even named their experiment: The Footmen’s Club. Though Beau had explained to his friends that he needed to pretend to be a valet instead of a footman. Kendall had decided to keep the name, however, even after Worth had also begged off being a footman for a spot as a groomsman in the stables at Clayton’s estates.

  After taking a great deal of valuable instruction at Clayton’s London home from Mrs. Cotswold, the housekeeper, Beau had spent the next week studiously following his own valet, watching everything the man did and asking scores of questions.

  Under Malcolm’s tutelage Beau learned to tend to clothing, coats, and boots, to ensure the washbasin was filled, to verify that the dressing room was cleaned and aired properly, and to sharpen and strop the razors.

  He’d even learned how to cut hair, should that task be required of him during his brief “employment” with Copperpot. Though he secretly hoped (for Lord Copperpot’s sake) that the request was never made.

  Beau and Malcolm spent an entire two days on how to tie the perfect cravat in a variety of styles. Beau became such a nuisance trailing his own valet around that he was half-worried Malcolm would resign his position.

  Beau was soon called to Copperpot’s country estate and given the job of valet based on the recommendation of the Duke of Worthington himself. The duke provided Beau with a reference indicating that one Mr. Nicholas Baxter was a very fine valet who would make any household proud. The marquess-turned-servant was nothing but glad that he’d taken the time to prepare so thoroughly

  Less than t
wo days after he’d paid off Copperpot’s current valet, Beau was set to travel with his lordship’s entourage directly to Clayton’s country estate.

  The Copperpot entourage set out to Devon with three carriages: one containing the lord and lady and their eighteen-year-old daughter Lady Wilhelmina, one containing the female servants, and the third containing Beau, two footmen, and a steward.

  The ride was long and bumpy, but Beau decided to use the time wisely to subtly probe one of Copperpot’s footmen for information. He waited until the other men were half-asleep, lulled by the rocking of the carriage and the warm afternoon sun beating down on the conveyance.

  “How long have you been in his lordship’s employ?” Beau asked as nonchalantly as he could to the footman who sat directly across from him. He’d even disguised his voice by affecting a less proper tone. In addition to following Malcolm around to learn his duties, he’d also spent a considerable amount of time mimicking his speech and mannerisms.

  The footman, whose name was Charles, pushed back against the seat, his legs spread wide in front of him as the coach bounced its way along the road. The other footman, whose name was Harry, was fast asleep on the seat next to his friend and snoring to wake the dead.

  Charles sat up and scratched his head. “Near on two years now, I reckon.”

  Beau nodded. Bidassoa had happened last autumn. That meant Charles had been in Copperpot’s employ at the time. Beau pulled out a pack of betel nuts and offered some to Charles. According to Malcolm, betel nuts went a long way toward establishing, if not trust, at least goodwill among servants. Beau had brought several bags full of the small brown nuts that caused a warming sensation and increased alertness.

  “Thank ye, Mr. Baxter,” Charles said, tipping his hat toward Beau and taking a handful of the nuts.

  Beau continued their conversation, careful not to ask too many prying questions. He needed to gain the man’s trust before he appeared too interested in the workings of the household.

  Of course Copperpot might be innocent. There were two other noblemen suspected of treason. Having been privy in a special council of Parliament to Wellington’s intentions to cross the river Bidassoa in Spain last autumn, one of the men had written a letter to the French, warning them of the British plan.