Read When Good Earls Go Bad: A Victorian Valentine's Day Novella for Free Online

very comfortable, surely better than whatever you’ve rented.”
    Matthew thought about the warmth of the bed, the way his housekeeper seemed absolutely delighted to share her lack of cooking skills with him, how her eyes had sparkled when she was persuading him to at least have tea, and how the light streamed through the windows after she’d raised the curtains.
    Funny, he didn’t always remember to raise the curtains in his own rooms at home. He would have to bear in mind that for some reason it lifted his spirits, irrational though that seemed.
    “Thank you,” Matthew replied. “I will see you at seven.”

 
    A Belle’s Guide to Household Management
    A housekeeper is always addressed as “Mrs.,” perhaps because her only marital expectations are to be married to the house.

CHAPTER FIVE
    “W atch your feet as you come in, I’ve just mopped.” Matthew halted as he drew the key from the door, then leapt to where he could see a dry spot on the hallway floor, feeling like an idiot. Or a frog. Or both.
    She appeared at the end of the hallway, the soft twilight framing her as though she were in a painting.
    “Good evening, my lord.” She hopped from dry spot to dry spot, eventually landing on the nearest spot to him. Very near; he could see faint freckles on her cheeks and a smudge on her nose.
    Before he even thought about it, he raised his hand to her face and swiped the smudge off, nearly smiling at her startled expression. Nearly.
    “Good evening, Miss Tyne.” This close, he could smell the faint fragrance of lemon, perhaps the cleaning solution she’d been using. And there was something else, too, something rather feminine and warm and soft.
    Or that was just her.
    “I’m home just to change my clothes. I am going to my uncle’s for dinner.” Where I will meet an entirely suitable young lady, one who probably doesn’t have freckles and smells of something floral and delicate, not warmth and lemons and softness.
    And wasn’t that a fanciful thought for him to have? What would softness smell like, anyway? Before he knew it, he found himself sniffing.
    “Do you have a cold? I will just go make you some tea; you need something in case you are coming down with something,” she said, a concerned look on her face. “I took the liberty of putting your clothing away, and it appears you need a fresh cravat. I will just iron it while you have tea.”
    Matthew normally did not allow anyone to order him about, but soon he found himself seated in the kitchen, a cup of tea and a piece of burnt toast at his elbow, Miss Tyne busily ironing his cravat in front of the stove.
    “And how were your meetings, my lord?” she asked, her tone sounding as though she were actually interested. She didn’t wait for his reply before continuing. “My day was spent in meetings with dust and grime. I am surprised the rental agent allowed the house to be let like this. I cleaned your bedroom, so it is all ready for you this evening. I hope it is to your liking; the sheets and room are clean, at least.”
    Matthew took a sip of the tea. Made just how he liked it, and he’d only told her once how he took it. That warmed him as much as the tea did.
    “If it is a bed, it will suit me fine,” he said, feeling for the first time how his travel and uncomfortable sleeping position last night had affected him. He wished he didn’t have to go out to his uncle’s tonight; he wanted to stay here. Specifically, stay here with her and her charming manner, and how she asked questions she really wanted to know the answers to but didn’t wait for a reply, since it seemed her mind was traveling so quickly.
    He hadn’t met many ladies who weren’t entirely circumspect in their speech before. He found it oddly refreshing.
    “And your meetings?” she asked again, her head still bent to her task.
    “Fine.” There was so much to research; he knew it could be done within a few weeks, but so much was riding on his decision: not only his