Page 4 of Once a Gentleman
He had had only the briefest glimpse of the house as Samuel conducted him to his room on his arrival, but the more leisurely journey downstairs confirmed an initial impression of opulence beneath a layer of neglect. And dust, not to put too fine a point on it. Kit trailed his hand over the rich mahogany of the banister and made a moue of distaste as his fingertips came away powdered with gray.
“My apologies, sir,” Samuel said gravely, making Kit start. Samuel was walking just in front of him; did the fellow have eyes in the back of his head? “I would advise against touching the fittings, particularly when you are wearing gloves, although of course I will be happy to see to washing them. In the meantime, allow me.” And he presented a pristine white handkerchief with a flourish and a bow.
Kit took it, feeling yet again as if he were not entirely in control of his own actions. Samuel was the sort of fellow a duke would snatch up as his man of affairs. “What are you doing here?” he asked, before his brain could control his tongue. “As a footman. In this house.” He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how dreadfully prying such a question was, when he was not at all in a position of authority. “I mean, that is to say—”
“Not at all, sir,” Samuel replied. His hushed, conspiratorial tone made Kit feel even more like a cad. Turner might not be the most respectable of men, but he was Kit’s host, and his employer. He deserved Kit’s courtesy at least. “Mr. Turner was kind enough to overlook certain indiscretions of my youth. I am grateful to him on that account. I will admit that perhaps his kindness extends rather too far, to certain others employed here.”
Kit bit his lip and looked away, shame swamping all other emotions. Samuel, at least, was clearly capable of both courtesy and loyalty, and of delivering a searing set-down with tact. And Kit had very well earned it. It was likely that Samuel had meant the ‘indisposed’ butler, and perhaps the maids. But he could just as well have been describing Kit.
“I’m sure that your master is deserving of your dedication,” Kit choked out. “Perhaps we ought to go down now.”
“Indeed, sir,” Samuel said calmly, and moved on down the stairs.
His embarrassment had faded by the time Samuel tapped lightly at one of the doors off the main hall, but his nerves remained, evident in the way his heartbeat echoed through his every limb.
“The study, sir, and Mr. Turner is within,” Samuel said with a bow. Kit drew a deep, albeit shaky breath, and stepped in.
