His Countess (Victorian Decadence Book 3) Read online

  He nodded and turned back to the girls. “Go see Mrs. Tickle—the footman at the door will show you the way. If she wants you, she’ll tell you when and what to do.” He turned to Alys with a questioning look. “Any idea what wage a chamber or parlor maid makes?” he asked under his breath.

  Alys smiled at the girls. “I daresay Mrs. Tickle will want you to start out in the kitchen and work your way up.”

  “Yes, my lady,” the girls said, unsurprised at her words.

  “A tweeny position is £10 per annum.”

  The girls grinned and dropped another curtsey. “Thank you, my lady, my lord.”

  The earl turned to her as the girls scuttled off. “Good God! £10?”

  “That is a generous wage, my lord—exceptionally so.”

  His lordship shook his head in disgust and then called out, “Next.”

  Chapter Eight

  For the first time in longer than he could remember, Gideon went directly up to bed after dinner, undressed, dropped face-first into bed, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  He woke alone, just before first light, the bedding hardly disturbed. The experience was . . . singular.

  Then he recalled his plans for the last evening—putting on another show for Lady Taunton—and groaned. “Damn and blast!” And he’d had something rather delicious planned for her, too.

  Gideon didn’t know why yesterday had been so exhausting. He’d done nothing physical, just sat and talked to strangers. All. Day. Long.

  Lady Taunton had sat beside him for most of the day, only disappearing briefly a few times, which usually preceded the arrival of food and beverage. Really, the woman was a bloody marvel. Gideon had realized immediately after he’d ordered food and drink for a hundred people that perhaps he might have misspoken, especially given what his cook had shown him the one time she’d prepared a meal. But, again, it had been Lady Taunton who’d saved the morning, somehow managing to magically create the most delicious baked goods.

  Again, at luncheon, there’d been hearty sandwiches of marvelous Taunton cheddar and cider-glazed ham.

  By the time they’d seen the very last petitioner—yes, they spoke to everyone—it had been past dark.

  Once again, the countess had seen to his gastronomical needs and a meal arrived, unsolicited by him, in the library, where they’d gone to compare their notes from the day.

  They’d eaten a hearty stew with fresh bread while looking through their lists.

  “I count thirty-seven new employees,” Lady Taunton said after taking a genteel sip of cider. “And you, my lord?” she urged when Gideon simply stared.

  “Oh, er, yes.” He squinted at the sheet. “Are you including that last lad—Joe Jensen, I believe his name was?”

  She frowned down at her page. “No, I missed him.” She made the tsking sound he found adorable.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “You are asleep at your desk, my lord.”

  He blinked. “I most certainly am not.”

  She laughed and the sound swirled in his belly. Gideon frowned; he was an idiot—it was likely cider he felt swirling.

  She stood. “I never expected engaging employees would be so exhausting. I suppose that is why many people employ both house and land stewards.

  Gideon groaned. “Good God! Two more positions?”

  Again she laughed, this time the swirly feeling dropping down lower, in the neighborhood of his cock—one of Gideon’s favorite neighborhoods.

  “You might want to give more thought to such positions. Aren’t your new butler, housekeeper, and footman—”

  “Four,” Gideon said.

  “Four footmen arriving shortly?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” A huge yawn distorted his face. “I do beg your pardon,” he said, and then realized she, too, was yawning. “Off to bed, Lady Taunton, we can finish this discussion on the morrow.”

  And then he’d gone up to his room, Jackson had peeled him out of his clothing, and he’d climbed the ladder to his bed and collapsed into it, sleeping without waking even once.

  Gideon shook his head. Such wholesome, healthy behavior was not normal and likely wasn’t good for him, either. He turned to look at the clock—it was barely past five o’clock. The charwoman would be moving about, so he could hardly summon Lucy and Susan.

  Thinking their names reminded him of Susan’s behavior yesterday and he frowned. The whores were becoming unmanageable. He had half a mind to send them back to London. But then of course he’d need to have two more brought down. Gideon always employed two because he tended to wear them out.

  Not last night, the snide little voice mocked.

  He bristled at that. It was just one bloody night. I’ll be back in the saddle again this evening—you’ll see. And then he felt like an idiot for arguing with himself.

  The word saddle made him think: why not go for a ride as he was up so early? He’d had two riding hacks sent over from Taunton but hadn’t tried either of them. A ride early in the morning—without anyone watching his clumsy horsemanship—might be just the thing for him.

  He pushed back the bedding and hopped out of bed. Yes, a brisk early morning ride would be just the thing to begin the day.

  ☐ ☐ ☐

  “The second early morning this week, my lady. Nike will be pleased to see you.” Silber smiled down at her, his grin remarkably fresh for so early in the day.

  Alys returned his smile and flicked her whip, tapping her worn leather riding boot. “Keeping you hopping, am I, Mr. Silber?”

  He chuckled. “I’m pleased to be able to earn my crust. I’ll be back in half-a-blink, my lady.”

  Alys watched him turn and walk toward the stalls, appreciating the broad expanse of his shoulders. He was a gigantic man, far bigger than Lord Taunton’s lithe, muscular person. Alys wondered what he looked like without any clothing—

  A wave of shame hit her. “What are you doing?” she hissed at herself.

  “Yes, what are you doing?”

  She yelped and spun. “You!”

  Gideon grinned and held up his hands. “Me.”

  “What are you doing up so early? I thought you usually weren’t up and about until noon?”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk, my lady.” A truly wicked grin spread across his face. “I think you know I’m up and about far earlier than that.”

  Alys gasped.

  “Ah, your lordship, what a pleasure to see you this fine morning.”

  They both turned to find Silber smiling down at them, amusement glinting in his eyes. Had he heard what his debauched employer said?

  “Good morning Mr. er—”

  “Silber, my lord.” Silber dropped a remarkably graceful bow for a man his size.

  “Ah, yes, Silber. Her ladyship says you know your way around cattle.”

  “I like to think so.” The big man patted Nike’s neck, his hands deftly slipping a bridle over her bowed head. Horses, Alys knew, loved the man.

  “Is there anything decent to be bought around Taunton?” Gideon asked.

  Silber cut him a quick glance, his hands moving all the while, efficient, gentle, and deft. “What might you be looking for?”

  Gideon smoothed the already smooth leather of his gloves, stroking every finger. It was a nervous motion Alys had seen before. Did Mr. Silber make him nervous?

  “I need carriage horses and some decent riding stock—enough variety to please and accommodate any guests I may invite. Something for me, as well.” He paused and gave the other man a self-mocking smile. “I won’t lie to you, Mr. Silber, I’m a poor equestrian at best.”

  Silber gave a low, easy chuckle as he lifted Alys’s saddle blanket onto Nike. “I doubt you have much need to ride in London.”

  “Yes, you are correct. I have not done much riding.” Gideon flushed with either relief, or pleasure, or both and Alys realized what a truly kind and gentle giant Silber was to set the earl—a generally arrogant obnoxious man—at ease.

  “It happens that I do know of some excellent s
tock around these parts, my lord, we’ve got some fine breeders. It would be my pleasure to bring a selection of mounts here for you to try before you make any decision.”

  A sleepy stable lad came wandering around the corner, rubbing his eyes with his fist.

  “Ah, look who’s decided to join us,” Silber teased, smiling down at the small boy. “Go fetch master’s horse, Jimmy—the bay in the last stall but one.”

  The boy’s eyes and mouth formed stunned circles when he noticed Lord Taunton and he went sprinting off.

  As Silber tightened the girth Lord Taunton said, “You seem an easy man to work for, Mr. Silber.”

  “Aye, my lord. Can’t see any use to make those below me suffer—not when I love my job as much as I do.”

  Lord Taunton’s eyebrows arched and for a moment Alys feared he’d say something cutting, but instead, he said, “An excellent motto to live by.” He turned to Alys. “Do you mind if I join you this morning?” he asked.

  “Of course not.” Did she sound breathy?

  “Here you are, my lady.” Silber walked toward Alys, Nike following him like a faithful hound.

  Alys slung her train over her arm.

  “Are you ready, my lady?” he asked and Alys nodded, ashamed at how much she always enjoyed this part of her ride.

  Silber’s gargantuan hands circled her waist and he lifted her like a feather and set her on her saddle, his hands disappearing from her body all too quickly.

  Alys knew her face was flushed and she felt Gideon’s eyes upon her as Silber checked her stirrups, his hands hard and warm through the leather of her riding boot as he shifted her ankle and tightened a strap.

  Alys was torn between her beloved ritual of watching Silber’s battered, capable hands—he was so close she could smell the sweat, leather, and horse on him—and looking up at the man she knew was watching her.

  Lord Taunton won and she looked up.

  Gideon Banks was staring at her with pupils so huge his eyes were black. His nostrils were flared and his jaw was flexing. As if pulled by heavy weights, her eyes dropped to his hips; the long, hard ridge of his erection was pressed against his snug leather breeches.

  ☐ ☐ ☐

  Fuck!

  Gideon’s erection was like iron, and the cause of it was crystal clear: Lady Taunton was in a state of high rut for his immense stable master. Part of him wondered if they’d consummated her desire, but he somehow didn’t think so.

  The man looked far too comfortable and easy to be harboring either unrequited or requited lust for the mistress of the house.

  Jonathan Silber—Gideon knew his name, of course—he knew the names of every person who worked for him, even the new ones—was one of the most likeable men he’d met in recent memory. Comfortable in his own skin to a degree one rarely encountered, he seemed contented to use his skills without making a spectacle about them.

  Gideon had to admit that wasn’t something he’d learned yet—not boasting—and might never master.

  Not only was Silber pleasant and gentle, but the man was a bloody ox, his body even bigger than Gideon’s partner’s—Edward Fanshawe.

  Gideon had given a great deal of thought to his feelings about other men, especially when it came to his body’s reaction to seeing them naked or watching them fucking. He didn’t believe he was a sod—because he certainly enjoyed women—but he’d both taken pleasure from, and given it to, other men.

  So, perhaps that did make him a sod?

  He mentally shrugged. He’d long ago decided he would never feel guilt for his sexual appetites. The truth was he enjoyed fucking fine human animals, no matter the gender, and he imagined Silber would strip to considerable advantage.

  His deviant brain already had the gargantuan man mounting Lady Taunton from behind, just like a stallion, his massive thighs and arse flexing and pumping. Doubtless he’d have an enormous cock—horse-like, of course—and he’d employ it with the same competence he appeared to do everything physical.

  Gideon was also part of this fantasy—that went without saying—but he couldn’t help appreciating the image of the stable master’s powerful body covering the woman across from him and plunging into her.

  As Gideon took in her quickened breathing and flushed face he knew she was envisioning something similar, if not nearly so graphic. Yes, if there was one human emotion he recognized above all others, it was lust, and Lady Taunton had it in spades for her big servant.

  The woman in question tore her eyes away from Gideon’s ridged placket with visible effort.

  “I shall meet you on the drive,” she said without looking at his face, urging her horse on in that effortless way that people like her seemed to possess in the saddle.

  Gideon watched her go, appreciation vying with envy as he shifted his cock.

  “Her ladyship is a prime horsewoman,” Silber commented mildly as he took the saddle the boy brought to him and lifted it up onto the placid-looking bay.

  “Born in the saddle, I’m sure.”

  Silber laughed. “Near enough.”

  Gideon grunted.

  “She used to hunt with the Taunton pack, her first few years here.”

  “Oh? But no longer?”

  “No longer,” he agreed.

  “His lordship still hunted, I gather.”

  For the first time the man’s expression was something other than pleasant. “Oh, aye, his lordship hunted.”

  So, Silber hadn’t liked the last earl much. Interesting.

  “All right then, my lord,” Silber said, “Need assistance to mount?”

  Gideon grinned. “Only if you’ll lift me up like you did Lady Taunton?”

  Silber gave a great bellow of laughter. “Aye, my lord, you’re the master.”

  “I shall attempt it on my own, first.” Gideon said with a smirk. “But don’t go away just yet.”

  He mounted without any fuss, he wasn’t that poor a rider, and then turned his horse toward the courtyard.

  “What’s this beast’s name?” he called back over his shoulder.

  “That’s Lightning, my lord.”

  Gideon laughed as he guided the palpably sluggish Lightning toward the drive. Lady Taunton had ridden to the end and was on her way back toward him. Gideon felt like a bundle of cloth tied to the saddle compared to her. He didn’t like not doing things well, but he supposed he’d best get used to it when it came to riding.

  “Thank you for waiting,” he said.

  “Of course.” She looked straight ahead, her profile regal under her plain, masculine top hat.

  “Silber says you used to hunt,” he said when it seemed she was contented to ride in silence.

  “I did.”

  “Why did you stop?”

  She turned slowly toward him. “Are we having a conversation about something other than house or land business, my lord?”

  He blinked at her arch tone. “Why? Would that be unusual?”

  “Most.”

  Gideon laughed at her saucy look and brief answer. “Well, if we don’t talk about anything other than business it’s not for a lack of trying on my part.”

  She snorted softly at that.

  “What? It’s true. The few times I’ve asked you about yourself or your past you’ve looked daggers at me.”

  “Tell me, my lord, just how does one look daggers?”

  “You’re doing an excellent job of it right now.”

  To his surprise, she laughed.

  “That’s better. Now, why did you stop hunting?”

  She turned back to the road. “It was an issue of expense; a good string of hunters is expensive.”

  “Yet the earl continued to hunt?”

  Her lips twisted into a mocking smile. “Yes, he did.” She turned to him. “He also gambled and bet on races and, I suspect, kept a mistress.”

  Gideon’s lips parted to tell her that was the one thing her dead husband hadn’t been guilty of, but he didn’t—it wasn’t any of his concern.

  She gave
him an amused look. “You appear surprised that I would say such a thing?”

  “That’s because I am,” he admitted.

  “You’re surprised to hear Taunton was keeping a woman?”

  “I know nothing about that, but I’m exceedingly surprised you would mention it to me—a relative stranger.”

  She gave a low chuckle that curled around his body and settled in his balls. He shifted in his saddle, reminded of why he didn’t enjoy riding as much as he always thought he would.

  “Why did you laugh?” he asked when it appeared she wouldn’t elaborate.

  “No reason.”

  What a little liar she was! Gideon knew why she told him and suspected she did, too. It was a version of pillow talk, even though they’d never actually shared the same pillow. Still, watching him a few nights ago must have lowered her defenses. He cursed himself for falling asleep last night and cheating them both out of a second show. Well, there was tonight and every night after.

  “Will you tell me a little about the guests who are coming to stay at Foxrun?”

  Ahh, so she’d run shy of the dangerous subject.

  “My three partners and Mr. Fanshawe’s wife.”

  “She is the painter—Natalie Hartwicke.”

  “She is, although she goes by Nora Fanshawe in all other aspects of her life.” Thinking about Nora as always made him recall that night at the Birch Palace. Which led to uncomfortable physical reactions, so he thrust it aside—with reluctance. “She is a very . . . unusual woman.”

  “In what way, my lord?”

  “Well, there’s the fact she is a painter of some eminence—a woman succeeding in a male dominated sphere. But there’s more than that. Nora is—” how did one describe such a woman without getting one’s face slapped in the process? “Well, she is unique. There is, I’m sure, nobody else like Nora Fanshawe.” If there was such a woman, Gideon bloody well wanted to meet her.

  “You sound quite enamored.”

  Gideon looked up at that. Lady Taunton’s mouth was curved in a rather hard smile, almost as if she were . . . jealous? No, surely not. Likely that was judgement he saw in her eyes.

  “I’ve heard the rumors swirling about her,” she said when he didn’t respond.

  “Ahh. Rumors. You didn’t strike me as the rumor-mongering type.”