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fringed with the thickest black lashes, which had never failed to set him on his heels.  With a single glance, regardless of intent, Alex could turn the most stalwart of men into a blithering idiot, and she quite took his breath away.
    It was, perhaps, his uncontrollable reaction to the chestnut-haired beauty that had fascinated him from the moment they met.  At the age of one and thirty, he had thought himself immune to feminine wiles.  Given Jason had spent the greater portion of his youth at sea, his education in the sexual arts had taken place in dockside taverns, in the arms of some of the most hardened doxies in London and Jamaica.
    As he amassed a sizeable fortune in prize money, which he had invested with care, he purchased the favors of more refined courtesans.  But the attachments never extended beyond expensive brandy, fine cigars, raw lust, and sordid acts no gently bred virgin would provide in her lifetime.
    Or so he thought.
    Alex had not simply altered his views but had blown his preconceived notions of society maidens out of the water.  She pursued him with an unrivaled aggression and openness many men would kill to possess.  And she would be his bride, but not yet.
    Moved by a power impossible to deny, Jason pressed his lips to her forehead.  “I am so proud of you, Alex.”
    As he retreated, he paused.  Asleep, his lady appeared so innocent—so helpless.  Temptation beckoned, even as he reminded himself no gentleman would take advantage of her oblivion.  But he held no title, as he was a man of the sea.
    So he bent and stole a kiss.
    #
    “Oh, this is terrible.”  Alex rubbed the back of her neck and winced.  “I ache everywhere.”
    “You poor thing.”  Molly perused the various garments.  “Your work is very fine, but why did you not wait for me to help you?”
    “Because I wanted to do it.”  And so she had, completing the repairs in the wee hours of the morning.  But Alex would not complain, as the ensuing short rest included a most vivid dream, which featured Jason and a delicious kiss that gave her shivers whenever she thought of it.  “Besides, given your extensive list of chores, I loathe compounding your tasks.”
    “Nonsense, as it is no bother, and this is my light day.”  The charwoman carried Jason’s clothing into the dressing room.  “I have only to wash the linens, scrub the floors, haul firewood into the bedchamber and kitchen, replenish the preserves, carry in fresh water for your bath—”
    “That is quite enough.”  Alex stretched and yawned.  “I should clean the floors, if you will teach me how to use a mop, and then I will assist in all your chores.  And if I have overlooked anything, you must tell me, as I intend to assume my fair share of the labor, for the length of my stay.  What’s more, this afternoon, I shall fetch the water for my much-deserved bath.”
    “Do you think that wise, Alex?”  The maid put away the last of Jason’s garments.  “You are new to housework, and you may not be able to move, tomorrow.”
    “Fear not, fair Molly.”  Alex lifted her chin.  “I am stronger than I look.”  Of course, she had no idea what joy awaited her, as she commenced her toils.
    First on her agenda was a date with a broom, and she swept a good dust storm in the small cottage, while the cook-maid boiled preserves.  By the time Alex wrestled with the mop, blisters had formed on her palms, and twice she stepped into the bucket of water.
    “Oh, and I have always considered myself a graceful sort.”  Alex wrung the hem of her morning dress.  “And I fear I have ruined my slippers.”
    “That is why I remove my boots, before I clean.”  Molly stowed the preserves and rested hands on hips.  “And we need only put your slippers at the hearth to dry them.”
    “Will they not stain?”  She could not wear soiled slippers.
    “I know not.”  The charwoman shrugged.  “Does it matter, as they are still serviceable?”
    For the