To Serve

by Lexy Timms

  He had to fight to hide his reaction to her. The short black dress stopped right at her knees, showing off long, shapely legs that sent his temperature soaring. Alistair could just imagine what it would be like to have those legs wrapped around him.

  “Black seems so classic, don’t you think?” Evie asked, seemingly oblivious to the effect she was having on him. “Do you like it, Mr. Godstone?”

  Like it? Bloody hell, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. “It’s...quite nice.”

  “Nice?” Evie frowned. “I was hoping for a bigger reaction.”

  “It’s classic like you said, Miss Smythe,” Hannah said.

  Evie’s frown deepened. “Classic sometimes means pedestrian. Every woman at the dinner is liable to be in a black dress.” She reached for the red dress in Hannah’s arms and vanished into the bathroom again.

  When she came back out, Alistair worked to keep his jaw off the floor.

  This time, the strapless dress revealed her cleavage. Again Evie seemed oblivious as she reached up to tie her hair up, giving him a glimpse of the slender column of her neck. “What do you think, Mr. Godstone?”

  He tugged at his tie, suddenly finding it hard to breathe in the boiling hot room. “Fine. You look fine.” Telling her what he was really thinking would get him sacked on the spot.

  “I suppose there are worse things than fine,” Evie said with a sigh as she looked in the full-length mirror by her wardrobe.

  She took the final pink dress from her lady’s maid and stepped back out in the new outfit minutes later.

  At this point, Alistair was certain the dress had been designed specifically to kill him. The dress was the same shade of pink as her full, sensuous lips, and though the silky fabric wasn’t nearly as revealing as the others it hugged her curves perfectly. So perfectly that, with the color of the dress nearly matching her skin tone, Evie looked like she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

  He still couldn’t breathe. Desire seemed to have cut off his air supply. Burning need coursed through his veins, and he was so painfully aroused that he could hardly think clearly.

  “Thoughts?” Evie asked as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. “I hope this pink color doesn’t wash me out too much. Maybe the black would be a better choice?”

  “You look beautiful,” he couldn’t help but tell her.

  At those words, she stopped to turn and glance his way. A faint blush stole up her cheeks, and she shyly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Her full lips twisted into a coy smile. “Do you really think so?”

  Based on her subtle reaction, Evie had taken his compliment to heart. “I know so,” he said, unable to hide behind pretense and propriety any longer. She was stunning. So breathtaking that it was almost painful to look at her.

  “Then I’ll wear it,” she said, looking up to meet his eyes. “To please you.”

  “Please me,” he choked out, suddenly even more aroused at the thought of her wanting to dress especially for him.

  “Yes. Now that I know a man would approve, I can feel confident about wearing this,” she said, snapping him back to reality. “The duke will love it. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I show it to him.”

  Those words were like a jab to his stomach. Hard, merciless, and agonizing. Evie wasn’t dressing up for him, and he had been a fool to hope for that. She had wanted a man’s opinion to impress her future husband. Nothing more.

  “He’ll adore it,” Hannah said excitedly, rushing over to Evie to help her adjust the dress.

  A dull sort of pain went through him. Not only were their roles clearly defined, but Evelyn must have made up with the duke. Whatever had caused her distress just days earlier had to have been smoothed over now.

  Alistair tried to be grateful for that. He would never want her to be unhappy. But he was starting to wonder if the duke would be the source of future pain for her. Based on the brief moments Alistair had observed of Lord Rothford, it seemed that the man was as pompous and overbearing as many in his social class.

  He couldn’t lie to himself any longer. Alistair was jealous of the man. That had been part of his concern for Evie when she appeared in the kitchen days before. First his urge to protect her, the way he had wanted to when they were children, had come roaring back. And then, after she had hinted that the duke was the cause of her pain, anger and jealousy had taken hold.

  Jealousy was an emotion he had no right to feel when it came to Evie. She wasn’t his. Another man with the wealth and pedigree a woman like her would require had captured her heart. Or at least had captured her parents’ approval. Entertaining anything more was the height of insanity.

  “It’s time for me to take my leave,” he said.

  Evie glanced at him and smiled. “Thank you so much, Mr. Godstone. I couldn’t have made the choice without your help.”

  He gave a nod, and then turned around to exit the room. The best he could hope for now was to find a way to crush his burgeoning feelings for her. Because now that he had seen how much she cared for another man, Alistair knew that his feelings for her would always be dangerously one-sided.

  Chapter 9

  “EVELYN, YOU MUST TELL me where you bought that necklace,” the Dowager Duchess of Rothford said.

  Evie paused, realizing she had been fingering the pearl necklace all afternoon in a desperate bid to shake some of her anxious energy. She glanced over at the duke’s mother and gave the dowager duchess a faltering smile. “It’s a vintage piece. It was my grandmother’s.”

  “I’m surprised the dear departed soul had such refined taste,” Duchess Regina said in a derisive tone. “She was rather a gaudy modernist in her day, if I remember correctly.”

  She had spent all morning and part of the afternoon entertaining Nicholas’ mother and stepfather. Evie wanted to make a good impression on her future in-laws beyond small talk. She was going to need them on her side if she had any hope of making tonight’s dinner and her relationship with Nicholas a success. Right now she and the dowager duchess were in the dining room, watching over finishing touches to the table as Alistair directed the rest of the servants with the air of a general sending soldiers into battle.

  As Alistair commanded an army of servants, Evie watched him discreetly. Unexpectedly attracted to the way he was able to steer them all with a firm, but respectful, hand.

  “Is that the butler you’ve always had?” the older woman asked.

  “No, this is our new butler,” Evie supplied.

  “Quite a handsome sort, isn’t he?” the dowager duchess said, blatantly eyeing Alistair. “Tall. Well-proportioned shoulders. Good-looking in a rather brooding sort of way. Rather like an old movie star. Always a bonus when the working class gives us something nice to look at don’t you think, dear?”

  Evie didn’t voice her distaste at the way the dowager duchess seemed to be assessing Alistair like she would a prize stallion at auction. “Indeed.”

  “Oh, don’t go on like you’re too virtuous to notice,” the dowager duchess said with a sniff. “I abhor overindulging in self-righteousness. Makes one appear like they think too highly of themselves.”

  Usually, Evie was able to put a pleasant face on just about anything, but she could feel her exhaustion settling in. Nicholas’ mother seemed determined to speak in vague put-downs. She didn’t know what else she could possibly say to Nicholas’ mother; luckily, her lady’s maid arrived just then to remind Evie to get ready.

  Thankful to get away from the dowager duchess, Evie permitted her lady’s maid to escort the older woman back to the guest room. Then Evie headed upstairs to shower and change.

  The pale pink dress she had chosen with Alistair’s approval fit her perfectly as she put it on in front of the mirror in her bedroom. It had been one of many dresses gifted to her by a London fashion house, but she felt special wearing it now. Special because Alistair had wanted her in it. He hadn’t said those words exactly, but she had seen the way he looked at her after she had slipped it
on.

  There had been heat in his gaze. As if looking at her in the dress from every angle was all he wanted to do. Not in a vulgar, smothering way like Nicholas. But in an appreciative way that made her feel beautiful and sexy at the same time. That’s why she had blurted out how much she wanted to please him. Because, in that moment, she wanted him to keep gazing at her that way forever. Luckily, she realized that she must have imagined that look in his eyes and remembered Nicholas just in time. Thinking of Nicholas helped her to smooth over the remark without too much trouble.

  Remembered Nicholas just like she was remembering him now. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about another man. Nicholas was going to be her husband. Not Alistair. A childhood crush was a fantasy. What she had with the duke was real. That was the purpose of this dinner.

  Her lady’s maid appeared to help her with the finishing. With Hannah’s help she styled her hair, put on some makeup, including pale pink lipstick, slipped into designer heels, and chose a shiny gold clutch to complete her look.

  By the time Evie went downstairs to the drawing room afternoon was turning into evening, and she could already hear the cars coming up the driveway to the manor entrance. Soon, Nicholas arrived with her parents and his parents trailing behind him.

  “My, you are especially beautiful tonight, Evelyn,” Nicholas said with a leering grin. “You will look absolutely perfect on my arm. All the other men will choke on their jealousy.”

  She swallowed hard. Clearly the art of the backhanded compliment was a family trait. “Thank you. You look wonderful as well.”

  Servants started to usher elegantly-attired guests into the drawing room, signaling that dinner was about to start.

  Nicholas offered her his arm and she took it, allowing him to steer her out of the drawing room to join the line outside the dining room. It was customary for the honored couple to enter last so that all eyes would be on them.

  In the periphery of her vision she saw Alistair standing at the dining room entrance, announcing the guests with the unflappable elegance of a skilled butler. Despite his inexperience, he had clearly been trained very well.

  Evie waited until her feet were sore, but she had been trained all her life to endure that kind of discomfort. Tradition was tradition, and the lords, ladies, politicians, captains of industry, and other distinguished guests would have to be introduced first.

  At last, it was Nicholas’ and her turn, and she as she moved towards the entrance her eyes met Alistair’s.

  She smiled.

  Alistair didn’t. Her heart sank. She wished he would return her smile, but she knew he couldn’t. In front of an audience, it would be overly familiar.

  Instead he gave a respectful nod, his gaze never leaving her. Suddenly, she caught sight of the fire in his dark eyes. It was the same burning desire she had seen the day before. All heat and aching longing. There was no chance she had imagined it a second time. He really was looking at her with barely-contained passion.

  Her heart started to pound and she wanted to say something, but Nicholas was already sweeping her into the dining room.

  Alistair cleared his throat to announce them. “His Grace Nicholas Forbes, the Duke of Rothford, escorting the Honorable Evelyn Smythe.”

  All of the seated guests at the long table got to their feet as she and Nicholas moved further into the dining room.

  Under the watchful gazes of the guests, Evie walked with Nicholas to the seat beside his mother. With practiced ease Nicholas helped her into her seat, and sat down beside her. The standing guests followed the couple’s lead and resumed their seats.

  Servants had already lined up in their positions away from the table and more servants walked into the dining room, bringing in the appetizers for the dinner’s first course.

  Though she had eagerly anticipated tonight’s meal, now that she was sitting between Nicholas and his mother, the dowager duchess, Evie felt her stomach tighten painfully. Striking up a conversation with either of them was going to be difficult, but she had trained all her life for such a challenge.

  She took a deep breath and started a conversation with the duchess, sticking to the most inoffensive of all topics—the weather.

  “What pleasant weather we’ve been having lately,” Evie began as the servants laid out appetizers of all kinds, including soup, salad, caviar, stuffed mushrooms, and a selection of cheeses. “Don’t you find country weather agreeable, Duchess?”

  “It is summer, dear, so there’s no need for a weather report,” the dowager duchess replied with a roll of her eyes. “Pleasant weather can’t be helped in the summertime.”

  Evie stifled a frustrated sigh. “You are quite right.”

  Alistair appeared suddenly with two wine bottles in his hands.

  Relief flooded Evie at the sight of a somewhat friendly face. As distant as Alistair insisted on being, at least he didn’t make her feel like a total fool.

  “Red wine or white?” Alistair asked her.

  Evie motioned to the red and he began to fill her glass.

  “I thought you could use an interruption from her highness,” he whispered to her.

  Ah, a rare joke from him. Evie couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Was it that obvious?”

  “You haven’t smiled since you sat down,” he said. “Out of everyone here, you should be the one smiling.”

  “And you have made it your task to make me smile?” she asked.

  “It will be my favorite task of the night,” he told her before stepping away to fill another guest’s glass.

  Her eyes trailed him as he moved around the room, filling glasses and subtly instructing the other servants.

  Despite all the wealthy, well-dressed men at the table, it was Alistair who looked the most handsome to her. He was dressed in a three-piece suit complete with black jacket, tie, and waistcoat. His dark hair had been cut recently and was now slicked back. With his dark good looks and masculine elegance, he put every man in the room to shame.

  Her brief conversation with him made her feel lighter, so she focused on sipping her wine and eating her salad.

  “What were you and that servant talking about?” Nicholas demanded in a low tone.

  “Nothing,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear the shakiness in her voice. “Wine selection.”

  The duke gave a non-committal grunt. “Your father mentioned to me that you and the butler were awfully chummy as teenagers. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She swallowed hard and her body stiffened with tension. “It’s no secret.”

  “I’d rather not hear about a girl’s former flame from her father,” Nicholas muttered, stabbing at his salad with a fork.

  “He’s not a former flame,” she corrected quickly. “We were just friends.”

  “Don’t embarrass me, Evelyn,” Nicholas said darkly.

  His subtle threat filled her with unease and she opened her mouth to fling a retort at him, but she noticed that most of the guests at the table were looking their way. Even the guests who were deep in conversation were glancing in the couple’s direction.

  She bit her tongue and took several sips of wine to fortify herself.

  As the next course started with a serving of salmon, Evie was desperate for the night to be over.

  Alistair appeared again and refilled her glass.

  “Counting the minutes?” he asked in a low tone.

  “You’re rather cheeky tonight,” she said with a smile. “And the answer is yes.”

  “This dinner is bringing back memories,” he said. “Of tedious events you begged me to help you escape.”

  Her smile widened as more memories came flooding back. “I remember us going to hide out in the fort your father helped us make.”

  “We used to stash tins of food up there,” he said with a chuckle.

  She decided that she liked when he let his guard down to speak to her like no one was listening. Alistair didn’t seem so aloof and distant like he had that day she ran out of the kitchen.


  “And bags of crisps,” she said with a laugh.

  Suddenly a sharp pain shot up her arm, and she gasped in shock. Though she couldn’t see it, under the table Nicholas had grabbed her wrist so tightly that she knew she’d never be able to wrench free. But that didn’t stop Evie from trying to twist her arm out of his vise-like grip. “Nicholas, what are you—”

  “Don’t you lie to me, Evelyn,” Nicholas forced out in a barely audible hiss. “How long has this affair been going on?”

  “WHAT?” EVIE’S HEART hammered at his accusation. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  Remembering her childhood crush on Alistair might not have been appropriate, but it was hardly an affair. She was horrified at the implication.

  “Ah, so you’ll listen to me when I’m exaggerating for emphasis,” Nicholas said. “Well, Evelyn, if you don’t want people to think you’re sleeping with the help, perhaps you should stop neglecting me to idly chat with a servant.”

  So he didn’t actually think she was having an affair. He was simply jealous enough to taunt her with empty threats. Of course he didn’t actually think an affair was going on. Nicholas was simply trying to goad a reaction out of her.

  She gasped as more pain ran up her arm.

  Alistair moved forward and glared down at the duke. Though her injured wrist was hidden from view, Alistair must have noticed how upset she was.

  “Are you all right, Miss Smythe?” Alistair asked, his voice as hard as stone as he kept his withering scowl on Nicholas.

  “Mind your own bloody business,” Nicholas said softly, plastering a smile on his face. Clearly he still wanted to appear happy in front of the guests.

  She didn’t want to cause a scene either. With Nicholas still gripping her wrist, she forced herself to look up at Alistair. “I’m quite all right, Mr. Godstone.”

  Alistair’s jaw clenched. “Are you certain?”

  “What the devil is wrong with you, man? She’s fine. Mind your damn business and go back to your place,” Nicholas said.

  Alistair didn’t budge. Instead, he turned his gaze to Evie. “I repeat, Miss Smythe, are you unwell?”