Scandal of the Year Read Online Free PDF Page B

into her teacup. Never had she encountered a footman who seemed so oblivious to the boundaries between them. Yet it was ridiculous to feel so flustered. What was wrong with her?
    She ought to chastise him for his boldness. But to do so in front of her mother would have consequences. Mama would likely sack him on the spot, and as much as Blythe thought him cheeky, she couldn’t bear the notion of being the architect of his dismissal.
    From behind her came the rustle of draperies. A moment later, sunlight flooded the bedchamber. He went to each window in turn, proceeding past the bed where Nan was plumping the pillows.
    Blythe took a sip of her tea. She’d never before thought anything amiss in allowing a male servant to enter her bedchamber. The staff had been taught to be respectful and unobtrusive, and she scarcely noticed their presence.
    But she couldn’t say the same of James. She was entirely too aware of his intrusion in her private sanctuary.
    “Won’t you open this?” Mama asked.
    Blythe blinked, realizing her mother stood nearby, holding out the small parcel. “I’ll do it later.”
    Mrs. Crompton arched a fine eyebrow. “Well! You truly are in a snit today. Is it time for your monthlies?
    “Mama!”
    “Now, now,” her mother said, giving Blythe a soothing rub on the upper back. “I’m only trying to fathom your ill humor. If you’re suffering from the curse of Eve, it’s perfectly understandable that you might feel out of sorts. It certainly isn’t like you to be so averse to opening a gift.”
    “I’m sure it’s merely sweets or another set of embroidered handkerchiefs,” Blythe said, to distract her mother from the indelicate topic. “You may open it yourself if you like.”
    Her only consolation was that James gave no hint that he had heeded the exchange. Her gaze furtively sought him out. He had moved to the last window, where he drew back the blue draperies and looped the tassel around a hook on the wall. Then he strode to the fire to add a few more coals from the hob. His presence in the bedchamber made it difficult for Blythe to concentrate.
    Mrs. Crompton untied the string around the parcel and removed the heavy cream paper. “Well, I certainly would like to see what this is. Ah, there’s a card on top. And oh! Look who it’s from, darling—the Duke of Savoy.” With a triumphant smile, she waved a printed calling card.
    James picked up the poker to stir the coals, causing the flames to hiss and flare. Seeing that her mother was waiting for a response, Blythe murmured, “How very nice.”
    “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
    “Oh … certainly.”
    Mrs. Crompton peered down into the box. “Chocolate bonbons, the very finest, you may be sure of that. His Grace is renowned for his excellent taste. Do try one and you’ll see.”
    It was customary for a gentleman to send out gifts the day after a large party. As the package contained no personal message, Blythe suspected the duke had sent the exact same thing to every girl with whom he’d danced.
    But her mother was insistently holding out the box, so Blythe took a bonbon and popped it into her mouth. The rich sweetness melted on her tongue, and the sensual delight had a soothing effect on her rattled senses. “Mmm. Delicious.”
    James had put down the poker and stood waiting by the door. His gaze flicked from her mother to Blythe.
    The intensity in his dark eyes made Blythe wonder if there was a smudge of chocolate on her lips. Turning away, she ran her forefinger over her mouth. Why did he tarry here? He should vanish from the bedchamber as Nan had done when she’d finished making the bed.
    “Pardon me,” he said. “Will that be all?”
    “Yes!” Blythe said.
    “No,” Mrs. Crompton countered, frowning slightly. “Blythe, darling, sit down and write a thank-you note to His Grace. If the footman delivers it straightaway, the duke will know you to be a lady who is prompt in her duties.”
    “But Mama, I’m not