The Lady In Question Read Online Free PDF Page A

breathed a silent sigh of relief. Blast it all. What did he know about being a bloody butler save that he should be at once completely indispensable and virtually invisible?
    Anthony Artemis Gordon St. Stephens, the new Viscount St. Stephens, had been in countless awkward and dangerous situations through the years, but none quite as irritating as this one. He could handle himself under the most dire of conditions, but the behavior of a properly trained butler was not in his repertoire. Perhaps if the servants of his childhood in his father’s house had not been quite so well trained he would at least have been more aware of their activities, although he doubted it. He had not been overly perceptive as a child.
    He stepped away from the door and started toward the back hall.
    At least Miss Effington — no, Lady Wilmont — was not experienced enough as the mistress of a household to note his lack of training. At least not yet. Surely his purpose here would be accomplished by the time she realized there was something distinctly odd about this particular servant. Without thinking, he scratched the back of his head, then remembered to brush from his jacket the dusting of power the action had dislodged. Powdering his hair to achieve the impression of age was almost as annoying as the false mustache, eyebrows and spectacles he sported to complete the illusion of age, or the small wads of cotton stuffed between upper teeth and jaw to distort his face and remind him constantly to alter the pitch of his voice. Besides, the blasted powder itched. It was, in truth, Wilmont’s fault. If he had stuck to the plan and followed proper procedures, Tony would not be in this position in the first place. Not only had Wilmont unexpectedly wed Philadelphia Effington, but he’d uncovered valuable information far and above his current investigation. Pity, both his reasons for marrying as well as this newfound information, allegedly detailed in a notebook, were lost with him when he died.
    Tony pushed aside the regret that stabbed him every time he thought of Wilmont’s death. One would think he would have become used to death during the war. Or perhaps it was a sign of humanity that one never became used to death, especially the death of friends.
    “Gordon?” Lady Wilmont called from the parlor door.
    Tony adjusted his spectacles, nearly as annoying as the mustache, gritted his teeth and turned back to her. “Yes, my lady?”
    “Would you join me in the library for a moment?”
    “Certainly, ma’am.”
    She swept across the foyer and opened the library door a step before him. Damnation. He should have done that. He’d never realized servants had to be quite so quick on their feet, especially necessary in a household like this, where the staff, besides himself, consisted of Mrs. Miller, who served as both housekeeper and cook, and John MacPherson, the footman, neither of whom was any more servant than Tony. Tony could certainly see where an additional footman or two and one or more maids would come in handy, especially given the chaos in the house upon Lady Wilmont’s return. The place had definitely been searched. Still, for now, Tony, Mac and Mrs. Miller would have to serve. However, Tony would have to do much better. It would not serve to be dismissed before he was ready. Of course, Lady Wilmont should have known better as well. Still, what could he expect from a woman who’d married a man she’d known less than a month? A woman who obviously had no sense of proper behavior. Such a woman was either incredibly stupid, unbelievably naive or impossibly romantic. Probably all three.
    Lady Wilmont seated herself at her husband’s desk, folded her hands nervously on top of an untidy stack of papers and drew a deep breath. Tony stopped before the desk, clasped his hands behind his back in his best butler stance and waited. Finally she glanced up at him with a tentative smile, her eyes wide and a rather seductive shade of blue. Odd, he