Page 20 of The Confessions of a Lady
Miss Smith’s hazel gaze flew from the duchess to Liam, then back again. ‘Shall I pour?’
Philippa waved her hand. ‘Please. We are capable of serving ourselves, Penny. I’m sure there are other things needing your attention. Thank you.’
Now the arrogant duchess was dismissinghisstaff. Perhaps he wanted Miss Smith to pour his coffee and serve it to him. It would give him an excuse to be closer to the intoxicating woman. Maybe catch a hint of her scent. Like a Yuletide biscuit: both sweet and spicy.
Miss Smith glanced at him, unsure of what she should do. When he nodded to her, confirming Philippa’s command –because really, he could pour his own damn coffee, even if it meant missing the opportunity to touch her fingers as she gave him his cup…especiallyif it meant avoiding that temptation – she dipped her chin and exited the room, taking some of the fire’s warmth with her.
Liam stood to pour his coffee, then reclaimed his seat, exhaling his exasperation at the whole mess of a situation in which he found himself.
Philippa leaned forward, pouring her tea. No cream or sugar for the duchess. She sat back and stared at him over the steaming cup. This was yet another stratagem. But he could wait her out. He sipped his coffee and stared right back.
‘Quite a fortuitous find, your new maid.’ Philippa’s tone could have cut the tea cakes sitting between them.
‘Since when did my domestic staff concern you?’
‘Since now. You should be careful, Liam. The Devil’s Sons aren’t above infiltrating your home with their spies. Penny was only lately employed by my friend, Lady Drake. Now she is in your household.’
Liam leaned back in his chair. ‘Are you suggesting Miss Smith is working for them?’ Alarm flared. What a preposterous accusation. And yet, Philippa was not a woman prone to flights of fancy.
‘I am not suggesting anything, except this: you need to tread very carefully. You may not value your life, but others do.’
Laughter was a rare thing, but Liam couldn’t stop the harsh chuckle. ‘First you offer me comfort, now you declare your affections for me?’ It was a preposterous assumption. While they never discussed the topic, Liam long suspected Philippa’s proclivities leaned in a much different direction. He would be the last candidate to claim her attentions.
Smart woman.
Despite this truth, he wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to tease the indomitable Duchess of Dorsett. He tilted his coffee cup up in a toast. ‘I’m flattered, Philippa, but I just don’t think it would work out between us.’
‘What is that lovely phrase I heard in Whitechapel last night… oh yes: suck a nob, you vazey ratbag. I’d rather peel off my skin and soak in lye than suffer your affections, Liam. But that doesn’t mean I wish you dead. Although now, I’m reconsidering.’
‘I’m sure you aren’t alone. As for spies within my staff, I shall keep a wary eye out for any nefarious behaviour.’ There was certainly one maid he wouldn’t mind watching closely.
Philippa rolled her eyes. ‘You always were a stubborn fool. And don’t think you’ve distracted me from your four-step plan. Exactly what are you thinking? Step one: fall on your sword. Step two: bleed all over the floor. Step three: die. Step four: decay?’
‘Not exactly.’ Liam gave in to the inevitable and shared his plan.
‘Dear God, Liam. I think my four steps were better. There is no possible way you can infiltrate this group and take down their leaders on your own. Bravado does not make up for lack of strategy, knowledge, and skill.’
‘I have skill,’ Liam argued.
Philippa’s gaze assessed him from the top of his head to the tip of his toe. ‘You havesomeskill, but is it enough?’ Her tone left no doubt as to her thoughts on the matter. ‘Thankfully, you know someone with superior skill, immense knowledge, and staggering strategy.’
Liam cocked his head. ‘I can’t think of anyone who matches that description.’
‘As I said, men are often fools. I shall help you, Liam.’ She blinked as if waiting for him to acknowledge this immeasurable gift before she continued.
Liam sipped his coffee.
Philippa narrowed her eyes.
Exhaling a scathing sigh, she broke their standoff. ‘If only to save myself the trouble of explaining your untimely demise to the Queen.’
‘How do you propose to assist me? Assuming I even want your help?’ He wasn’t fool enough to blindly accept her offer, no matter how often she told him the opposite.
Philippa took her time in selecting an iced cake. She nibbled the edge, made a face, then placed the delicacy on her saucer as if it were a drowned rodent. ‘In times such as these, there is only one real solution.’ She lifted her gaze to Liam.
‘Do tell.’ He hated that her words struck a chord of anxiety within him. What might she suggest? And how could he refuse?
‘A ball.’
