Devil in Spring (The Ravenels #3)

She felt Gabriel lean over her, his lips brushing her water-speckled cheek. “Let’s not tell her, then,” he whispered. “Because you’re so delightful when you behave badly.”


After her bath, he wrapped her in a thick flannel towel and carried her into the bedroom. Sitting on the bed with her, he carefully pulled out the tortoiseshell combs that anchored her hair. Pandora turned onto her front and rested her head on his chest as he began to massage her scalp with gentle fingertips. The slow kneading sent a delicious tingly sensation down the back of her neck. But she couldn’t let herself enjoy it fully.

“What’s worrying you?” Gabriel asked, his fingertips especially gentle around her bad ear.

“Part of me doesn’t want to go back to London,” she admitted.

The soothing massage didn’t cease. “Why not, darling?”

“As soon as we return, we’ll have to send out wedding cards to let people know they can call on us, and pay calls in return, and I’ll have to learn the servants’ names and the domestic expenses, and make certain the larder inventory matches the butcher’s bill. And someday I’ll have to give a dinner party.”

“Is that bad?” he asked sympathetically.

“I’d rather be guillotined.”

Gabriel eased her up higher on his chest and began to smooth her hair. “We’ll postpone sending out wedding cards until you feel more settled. People can wait to call until you’re ready. As for the servants—they won’t expect you to know everything straight off. Moreover, the housekeeper has managed the household efficiently for years, and if you don’t wish to involve yourself in the details, she’ll proceed as usual unless you tell her to change something.” His fingertips traced a light pattern over her bare upper back, eliciting a pleasant shiver. “You’ll feel better when you make some progress with your board game company. When we return, you’ll have your own carriage, driver, and personal footman, to allow you to go wherever you like.”

“Thank you,” Pandora said, pleased. “Although there’s no need to hire an extra footman. I’ll have the second footman accompany me when necessary, the way Kathleen does.”

“I’d prefer to hire a special footman, for your convenience and my peace of mind. There’s a particular fellow I’m considering—he’s vigilant, capable, and trustworthy, and in need of a new position.”

Pandora frowned. “I think I should have a say in choosing him, if he’s to accompany me everywhere.”

Gabriel smiled, stroking the shape of her cheek. “What qualities do you have in mind?”

“I would like my footman to have a cheerful disposition and twinkling eyes, like Father Christmas. And he must be kind and have a good sense of humor. Also patience, and excellent reflexes, because if I’m out walking and thinking too hard, I may not notice if I’m about to be mown down by a speeding carriage.”

Gabriel actually paled a shade or two, and gripped her closer.

“There’s no need to be alarmed,” Pandora said with a grin. “I have yet to be flattened under a carriage wheel.”

Looking no less anxious, Gabriel continued to hold her a little too tightly. “The man I have in mind has all those qualities and more. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with him.”

“I probably will,” Pandora allowed. “After all, look at what I tolerate from my lady’s maid. A footman would have to be absolutely impossible for me to dislike him.”





Chapter 17




“My footman is impossible,” Pandora exclaimed a week after their return to London. “I have to find another one right away.” She had just come back from her first outing in her new carriage, and it didn’t appear to have gone well. Closing the bedroom door behind her, she advanced on Gabriel with a scowl while he unbuttoned his waistcoat.

“There’s a problem?” Gabriel asked in concern. He tossed aside his waistcoat and began to unknot his necktie.

“A problem? No. Many problems. A plethora of problems. I went to visit Helen and the new baby, and then I stopped at Winterborne’s, and—Good God, what is that smell?” Pandora stopped in front of him, sniffing close to his chest and throat. “It’s all over you. A sort of metal-polish smell, and a bit like something’s gone bad in the larder.”

“I’ve just come from the swimming club,” Gabriel said, smiling at her expression. “They added chlorine and other chemicals to the swimming bath to keep the water from turning foul.”

Pandora wrinkled her nose. “In this case, the solution may be worse than the problem.” She retreated to the bed and hoisted herself onto the mattress, watching him undress.

“You were saying about the footman,” Gabriel prompted, unbuttoning his cuffs.

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