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hand. “You truly are a gracious lady.”
    If only he knew. Mary turned away but not before she’d caught Simon’s triumphant wink. “If you would excuse me for a moment, Mr. Smith, I must consult with my housekeeper.”
    She left the warm drawing room and made her way down to the servants’ quarters. Simon caught her up on the backstairs.
    â€œNicely done, sister.”
    â€œWhy did you ask him to stay?” she demanded.
    â€œBecause I thought it was a good idea. Can’t you tell the man is lonely?”
    â€œFor you?”
    â€œMaybe, I’m not sure.”
    â€œYou’d bed him?”
    Simon’s expression sobered. “I’d bed the prime minister and the prince regent if it meant you and I survived. Mr. Smith is far more comely.”
    â€œDo you think he is interested?” She pouted. “I thought he was rather taken with me.”
    â€œI’m sure he is.” He kissed her on the nose. “Mayhap he went to Eton and, like most of the male upper classes, is quite used to fucking men as well.”
    â€œNow you are making fun of me.”
    â€œNo.” He stepped away. “I’ve dealt with more than one titled lord who liked his own sex.”
    There was a harshness in his voice that made her reach out to cup his cheek. “Those days are long behind us.”
    â€œThey are if we can continue this masquerade. If Mr. Smith wants a bit of rough, I’m quite willing to give it to him. And if he turns nasty on us, we’ll have something to hold over him to ensure his future cooperation.”
    He turned and went back up the stairs, leaving Mary staring after him. Was their unwelcome guest really attracted to Simon? If he were, she wouldn’t begrudge either of them their sport. But she’d really believed he was ready to worship at her feet, not Simon’s....
    She realized she’d been standing in front of the kitchen door for so long that she was getting cold. After a quick prayer, she pushed open the door and walked inside. Mrs. Lowden sat with the cook at the large kitchen table, sharing a jug of ale. The fire was banked up for the night, and the black leaded stove glowed a sullen red. At this time of night, the majority of the staff wasn’t in evidence, having retired to bed in preparation for their early starts.
    â€œWhat do you want, lass?”
    Mary raised her chin. “I would like you to prepare a bedchamber next to Mr. Picoult’s for Mr. Smith.”
    The housekeeper sighed. “All right, then. I suppose you want it done now?”
    â€œYes, please.”
    Mrs. Lowden exchanged a look with the cook. “Yes, milady, certainly, milady.”
    The cook snorted with laughter she didn’t even bother to conceal. Mary felt her cheeks heat.
    â€œIf you continue to treat me with such a lack of respect, I will turn you both off.”
    The cook’s smile disappeared, and the housekeeper turned around to stare at Mary. “You’ll do what, missy?”
    â€œI’ll turn you off. Do you think I can’t do it? Jasper is dead now. I am the mistress of this house.”
    â€œMistress indeed, my lady. If that Mr. Smith speaks true, you won’t be in that position for long now, will you?”
    â€œWhatever do you mean?”
    â€œI hear he represents the new earl.” Mrs. Lowden’s smile wasn’t pleasant. “When the new bloke finds out what you’ve done, you’ll be the one being turned off, my lady, not us.”
    Mary glared at the grinning woman. “As that is not going to happen, I suggest you attend to your duties and mind your tongue!”
    â€œYes, milady.”
    â€œAnd be quick about it!”
    Mary turned on her heel and stomped back up the stairs to the drawing room. At the doors, she paused long enough to take another deep breath and fix a pleasant smile on her face.
    Both men looked up at her as she entered.
    â€œIt is all settled. My