Page 17 of Enslaved to the Seduction of a Lady
“Any excuse, ey? As if you care a single jot about her return.”
James shrugged. “I care enough when the master gives us ale and sweet wine.”
James’ brown hair stuck up at random angles and his eyes had a watery glaze from too much alcohol. He hiccoughed as he spoke, his slim frame jerky with the movement, and then he half sat, half fell onto the grass next to Luke.
“You’ll have to sort yourself out before you get back to work tonight,” Luke said. “You will have work to do before you get to sleep all that ale off.”
“Are you tryin’ to spoil our fun?” James asked, not unkindly. “Or do you have something else on your mind?”
“Like what?” Luke asked.
“Like pining after a certain someone?”
“He’s always pining,” one of the other footmen, Ralph, called. He waved his hand, splashing his mead over the grass.
“I am not pining for anyone,” Luke said. “Here, hand me a cup of ale. I shall never hear the end of it, if I do not partake in at least one or two drinks, I should imagine.”
“And rightly so,” Louisa said. “It would be rude to refuse the master’s kind offer!”
The scullery maid had been given the evening off, although she, too, would be required to help clean up at the end. They would expect the garden to look as though a party had never happened by morning. Luke laughed as he took the cup of ale from her.
“You make a good point, Louisa,” he said. He raised the cup to his lip and took a long gulp of the warm ale, before licking his lips clean. “Not a bad ale, either.”
“He’s good to us,” James said, nodding as though he spoke sagely.
“I cannot deny that, either,” Luke said.
They lapsed into silence as they both sat, looking over the party below. Thin, strained sounds of string instruments floated up the hill, just audible over the bawdy singing and limericks of the servants behind them.
“Nice night for a party, ain’t it?” James asked after a while, his voice less raucous now. He seemed almost reflective as he watched, and Luke was glad of that. He enjoyed the banter between them, but he liked the calm moments even more.
“It is that,” Luke agreed, nodding, unable to pull his eyes away from the party.
He could see Lady Alison, moving around in her bright-red gown, he could make out, just, the smile on her face—sometimes polite, sometimes genuine, sometimes filled with laughter and passion. How he wished it was him who had made her smile, as he often did when they were together. Her beauty shone when she smiled, a beacon to his heart.
“I’m glad I am up ‘ere rather than with that lot,” James said, thumbing in the direction of the garden party. “A pompous bunch, theton, don’t you think?”
Luke nodded but he didn’t answer. He looked longingly down at the party. It was not that he wanted to be there, nor even that he wanted their wealth and lifestyles. Luke was happy with what he had, was proud of the man he had become. No, it was not that which he coveted, but Lady Alison.
He sighed. He didn’t care where he was—at the top of the hill or the bottom—as long as he had the chance to be with her. As though reading his mind, James guffawed and leaned into Luke until their shoulders bumped together and Luke had to put out a hand to hold himself up.
“Watch what you’re doing,” he said, although with good humor and a laugh on his lips.
“We all know where you’d rather be,” James said, winking with exaggeration.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course not!” James said. “We have all seen how you moon after Lady Alison. You are like a puppy dog after a string of sausages.”
“Are you comparing Lady Alison to a string of sausages?” Luke asked, turning his head to look at James in surprise.
“Oh get off your high horse. I’m not saying she is a sausage,” James said, waving Luke’s concern away. “You know what I am trying to say.”
“You’re wrong,” Luke said simply, turning back to the gardens below.
“And don’t think we haven’t noticed the way she lingers at the stables neither, waiting to snatch a conversation with you. The pair of you—you’re smitten.”
“We are not,” Luke said, clenching his jaw in irritation.
