Page 17 of Reforming Lord Ragsdale
“More than now?” the footman joked, his voice as low as hers.
Emma nodded. “He might threaten to sack you. Will you trust me?”
He considered the matter seriously then. “If he turns me off without a character?”
“He will try, but I’ll make certain he doesn’t,” Emma told him, wondering how on earth she could make good that promise.Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she thought. “You have to trust me.”
Hanley favored her with a smile. “Aye, miss. Emma, my relatives are all from County Down,” he whispered.
“Never!” she declared, then lowered her voice again. “You have no accent. None whatever.”
“A man can’t make it in service in a great house with an Irish accent,” he said simply.
They regarded each other in perfect understanding. “Take off your coat and roll up your sleeves, my friend,” she whispered back, then turned to the task at hand.
Lord Ragsdale now eyed her with suspicion. “I don’t recall inviting you into my room.”
“You didn’t. I am here to hold you to your word, my lord, and a certain signed document.” She turned to the footman. “Hanley, unbutton his shirt.”
Lord Ragsdale stared at her, and she nearly laughed out loud as she watched a variety of expressions cross his face. He finally settled on irritation. “Leave my shirt alone, Hanley,” he ordered.
The footman took a deep breath, glanced at Emma, then started on his employer’s buttons. Lord Ragsdale tried to brush his hands away, but he still suffered from the effects of last night’s liquid debauch and missed the mark. “Don’t touch me, Hanley,” he threatened again.
Emma put on her most cheerful face, which she knew would drive her employer into the boughs. “As to that, if you wish to take a bath with your shirt on, you may, but it seems a little ramshackle, even for an Englishman.”
He tried to glare at her, but the effort of squinting must have hurt his tender head. “Who said I was going to take a bath?” he asked, rubbing his forehead.
“I did, my lord,” Emma stated firmly. “You are disgusting and we have things to do today. Take off your shirt.”
“I won’t.”
“You will.”
They stared at each other. Emma hoped she had won when he blinked, but she could be charitable to the vanquished. She turned around. “I will not watch, of course, but you will remove your shirt and everything else that doesn’t belong in a tub of water.”
Oh, please obey me, she thought, folding her arms and staring at the wall. She heard the maids returning with more water, which they poured into the tub. They shrieked, and Emma knew that Lord Ragsdale was stripping in front of them. She couldn’t help her smile as the maids ran for the door.
She heard the man step into the water, but she didn’t hear him sit down.
“I seem to recall something last night. I signed a paper.”
“You did, my lord,” she said, hoping her voice sounded firm now, something like the worst teacher she had ever endured. “You asked me to reform you, and even signed a statement to that effect.”
To her dismay, she heard him step out of the tub. Irritating, stupid Englishman, she thought. Now what? She heard footsteps and a door opened.
“What’s he doing, Hanley?” she asked in a low voice.
“Going into his dressing room. Uh-oh. He has a bottle.”
“Take it from him.”
“This is going to get me sacked.”
“Trust me.”
She heard a tussle, then language better not repeated, ending in, “You are sacked, you worthless footman!”
“Naughty, naughty,” Emma said. “You signed a document giving me full power. You cannot sack the footman. Hand me that bottle, Hanley.”
