by Josie Dennis
He began to don a fresh uniform. Nothing less would serve today. Another Hawk was coming to the manor. They would assemble on the drive in anticipation of his arrival, ready to treat him with the deference reserved for those of noble birth. That same care was not for a charming jack-o-napes from London who had known how to get under a girl’s skirts and little else before going into service five years earlier. He couldn’t be that carefree nineteen-year-old any longer, however. He had to support himself. His parents were gone, both having succumbed to the lung disease that visited so many who lived in the more densely-populated parts of the city. He was first footman at a grand house. He had a certain image to uphold, though a cheeky kitchen maid had seen right through his ruse.
Damn Poppy, anyway. He’d always thought her a tasty morsel in her own right, though he never had much contact with her save for meals in the servants’ hall with the rest of the staff in attendance. She seemed so driven, so focused on her work. She seemed lonely, though. Was she as lonely as he was? It was of no consequence. Staff interaction was all under the watchful eye of both Mr. Carstairs and Hawksfell’s housekeeper, Mrs. Holmes, so there was no flirting over the table. And no carousing in their rooms in the attics, either. There was little the housekeeper missed.
“And now another Hawk is to arrive,” he muttered to himself.
No doubt the gentleman would be as magnetic as the rest of them, the earl included. While Julian’s taste had only run to men on a few occasions, he’d been drawn to each and every Hawk man who’d come to the manor over the past few months. At least he’d hoped as first footman he wouldn’t have much contact with their visitor. That delusion was shattered just last evening when Mr. Carstairs informed Julian that duties of valet for their guest would fall on his shoulders.
“Bloody wonderful.”
He rubbed his hands over his face before straightening his hair. The small glass set on top of his sturdy bureau showed his golden waves neat and relatively smooth this morning. He looked the part, even if he sometimes didn’t feel it.
He’d spent too much time and effort becoming the sort of man to garner respect in service. He only had himself to offer, and the Earl of Hawksfell had deemed him worthy to work within the manor’s hallowed walls. Now he was tempted first by Poppy and secondly by the mere mention of close caring for an as-yet-unseen Hawk.
Closing his eyes, he thought back to the feel of Poppy’s skin beneath his fingers. So soft. So warm. She’d blushed as pretty a color as her namesake, there so close to him. And her smell, mmm. Heat and vanilla. What would she taste like?
“You’ll never find out, fool,” he grumbled.
Leaving his room, he hurried down the back stairs to the servants’ hall. The table was set for a hurried breakfast before the family would rise and call for their respective maids and valets. Julian would go wherever needed, assisting Mr. Carstairs. As expected, the venerable butler was seated at the head of the table as the rest of the staff settled themselves.
Poppy, however, was only seen in fleeting glimpses through the wide doorway toward the kitchens. Her red hair was tamed in a neat bun, but he could see curls springing free to frame her flushed face. Craving struck his belly, and he forced his attention to the others seated at the table. One of the kitchen maids served him and retreated back into the fragrant, busy space.
Julian sipped at his coffee while conversation went on around him. Lady Hawksfell’s maid was going on about the countess’s delicate condition while a few of the other females around the table clucked their combined concern. Thankfully that topic wore itself out as the talk inevitably turned to today’s visitor.
“Julian will serve as valet for Lord Stanton during his visit,” Mr. Carstairs said.
“Oh, I do wonder what he’ll be like,” one of the parlor maids said.
“He’ll be a Hawk, that’s what he’ll be like,” Peter, another footman said. “Glad I won’t be taking care of him,” he added not quite under his breath.
Julian spared him a glance. Peter had designs on Julian’s position when Vincent was still in that role, and it didn’t appear that he had lost any of that ambition. When Julian became first footman, he’d done his best to make certain Peter didn’t put his freckled nose out of joint. Now, while the man seemed content, there were still moments when Julian felt his jealousy.
“I’m pleased to perform the duties Mr. Carstairs asks of me, Peter,” Julian said, fighting to keep his tone even.
“What’s this?” the butler asked, his bushy gray brows raised.
“Nothing, Mr. Carstairs,” Julian quickly assured him.
Peter flushed as red as his hair. Julian mused that it was an astounding thing that Poppy’s red hair was lustrous and tempting while Peter’s did the man no favors. It would be a good thing if the man realized that Julian couldn’t be dominated and Mr. Carstairs couldn’t be sidestepped.
When Mr. Carstairs stood, the rest of the staff did likewise.
“Let us all be about our duties,” the butler said. “The earl’s guest should be arriving within the hour.”
Julian nodded, but he held himself back as the rest of the staff filed out of the servants’ hall. Grabbing Peter’s sleeve, he kept the man beside him.
Peter’s brown eyes widened as he looked at Julian. “What?”
“Don’t think to compromise my position, Peter. Such behavior does you no credit.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. I know you were the proper choice as Vincent’s successor, but I don’t have to be happy about it.”
“Your happiness is not my concern,” Julian said.
Peter bristled, and then seemed to soften a bit. “You’re right. First I had Vincent as example, and now I suppose I have to learn from you.”
“Don’t look to me for example.” Julian wouldn’t admit that he felt inadequate in his position, least of all to Peter. “I perform my duties, you do yours. It’s that simple.”
Peter nodded just as one of the maids hurried back into the hall.
“He’s been spotted on the drive!” she cried.
Julian arched a brow at Peter, who followed the girl out of the room. He took a breath, then followed them out and up to the main floor of the house. The new Hawk was just a man, wasn’t he? How attractive could he be?
As he lined up with the other servants steps from the entry, he eyed the shining auto coming up toward the manor. The vehicle smoothly stopped and the driver soon opened his master’s door. Julian watched as the tall gentleman stepped out and stretched to his full, broad height. His face was chiseled and as gorgeous as the earl’s. The man’s dark eyes ran over the line of servants, coming at last to alight on Julian. A spark struck him as he met Lord Stanton’s gaze.
The man was bloody beautiful.
* * * *
Henry dragged his eyes from the line of starched servants to stare up at the great house before him. He knew all Hawks were blessed in the financial realm. It was one of the things his mother had always complained about, even as he managed to add significantly to the money her own family left her. Yet Hawksfell Manor was far grander than he’d ever expected. The sprawling house had an impressive edifice, with soaring walls of sandstone leading to peaked roofs of slate that glinted in the morning sunlight. The grounds were well kept and the drive well maintained, and the number of servants attested to the place being very well staffed.
He thought briefly of his own staff back at Stanton House and couldn’t help but wonder if his host had indulged with the pretty people arrayed before him. Once again, the blond Adonis of a footman—first footman, if he guessed from his position in that perfect line of deference—caught his gaze. His beast began to stir, and he focused on the greetings from the butler and housekeeper.
The older gentleman was affable enough, but the sweet smile on the housekeeper put him in mind of his own Mrs. Pritchard. He liked Mrs. Holmes on site, and felt a genuine smile curve his lips.
“Mr. Carstairs, Mrs. Holmes, I thank you for my very g
racious greeting this morning,” he said.
The housekeeper’s eyes sparkled as her smile widened. “The earl’s staff is at your disposal, my lord. Please don’t hesitate to advise us if you are in need of anything.”
Her words put him in mind of just what he might possibly need during his stay, and he actually felt his cheeks heat. He had no idea how long she’d been in the earl’s service, but the man had been married for less than one year. Surely Mrs. Holmes was aware of the Hawk curse and how the beast was quieted. She couldn’t be suggesting that he take advantage of the earl’s staff during his visit. He had hoped that he could escape his beast, not indulge it. His heart sank a bit.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m certain I shall strive to be no trouble to your staff.”
She laughed a little bit, and there was a murmur of voices from the line of servants until they were hushed with a stern look from the butler.
“The earl awaits you in his study, my lord,” Mr. Carstairs said, turning back to Henry. “If you will follow me.”
As Henry passed the line of servants, he caught the first footman’s blue eyes flick toward him. The man’s full mouth opened just a bit, and Henry sucked in a breath. He would persevere. He would not trespass on his as-yet-unmet host. He would keep his dark desires to himself.
He found the earl within his study, as promised. The butler disappeared after announcing him, and then Henry stepped over the threshold to find the man himself. The Earl of Hawksfell rose to his full height, eye to eye now with Henry, and smiled. Henry was stunned for a moment to see just how many features they had in common.
“Lord Hawksfell,” he said at last.
“Gabriel, please.” He arched a brow, and Henry felt his own twitch in response. “One cannot look at our faces and know anything but that we are related.”
“Thank you, Gabriel. Call me Henry, please.”
Gabriel nodded and waved a hand toward a chair facing the desk. He settled back into his own seat once more. “I admit I’m surprised to see how much we resemble each other. I haven’t seen such since meeting my brother Matthew months ago.”
“You have a brother? I hadn’t heard of any Hawks having siblings.”
Gabriel’s lips quirked. “Half brother, but I don’t give much credence to that distinction. I have two of them now, Matthew and Stefan.”
“I would have liked to have a brother, but perhaps God was correct on that count.”
Gabriel’s expression sobered. “I’d heard that your mother was ill and recently passed. I’m sorry for your loss, Henry.”
“I am not.” Henry held up a hand. “Don’t misunderstand me, Gabriel. My mother was a harridan and never had much affection for me.”
“That is unforgivable. I, on the other hand, never knew my mother.”
Henry’s brows rose. “Truly?”
“I admit that Mrs. Holmes—you met Mrs. Holmes, did you not?” At Henry’s nod, he continued. “She all but raised me.”
Henry felt a bloom of warmth in his chest as Gabriel told him this. “I have my own sweet housekeeper, Mrs. Pritchard. She is a mother to me in all ways that matter.”
Gabriel grinned. “Another similarity, then. Millicent will find that diverting.”
“Millicent. Your wife?”
“Yes. I’m very pleased to say that we are soon to have an addition to our family as well.”
Henry’s mouth dropped open. “I’d heard of your marriage, but you’re having a child?”
“Yes, and despite our antecedents I am married to the mother and determined to remain so.”
“That is surprising,” Henry said. “Pardon me, Gabriel.”
“No pardon required. I am as aware of our family’s sordid history as are the rest of the Hawks.”
“Yet more than yourself have found happiness in marriage, however fleeting.”
“Fleeting?” Gabriel asked. “The happiness or the marriages?”
Henry shook his head. “It seems I’m going to have to beg pardon once again. It’s never been my experience that happiness of any kind lasts, marital or otherwise.”
Gabriel cocked his head to one side, regarding him closely. Henry couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind those dark Hawk eyes so like his own, but he knew this man was shrewd. At last he gave Henry a small smile.
“I might have believed you but a year ago.”
Henry found himself longing to ask just what he meant by that, but he held back. It wasn’t his place to pry when it was clear that Gabriel was opening his house to yet another wayward Hawk.
“You may come to find matters are quite different with our generation, then,” Gabriel went on. “Both my half brothers and several other Hawk men have found their happiness within these ancient walls.” He splayed a hand on his chest. “However, despite Michael’s assertions, there is no magic here.”
“Michael?”
The earl’s eyes filled with obvious affection. “My wife’s cousin. Third cousin, precisely.”
“He lives here?”
Gabriel met his gaze, and Henry felt a shiver of something. This Michael Gabriel spoke of was quite important to both the earl and his wife.
“You’ll meet my family at dinner, Henry. No doubt Michael will go on about some sort of spell that breaks our curse.”
Henry’s face flushed hot. “You speak of the curse? In company?”
Gabriel’s eyes were warm now. “Henry, we’re all aware of it. The beast.”
“I had hoped that not all Hawks suffered from it.”
“Sadly, we do. Though I admit that since last April, my beast seems satisfied.”
Again, Henry had the distinct impression that there was more to Gabriel’s marriage, but he wasn’t the man to broach such a subject. He’d hoped that there was some sort of magic to render his own beast subdued, but to marry? To commit to love another person for the rest of your life? It just didn’t seem possible. His heart never did hope for such a thing.
“I’m sure my own fine Mrs. Holmes has seen you settled in the bachelor wing.”
“No doubt I’ll find the accommodations more than pleasant.”
“Excellent. I look forward to getting to know you better, Henry. My brother Matthew and his wife should be at dinner.” Gabriel winked. “They usually are.”
“Live close, do they?”
“In the dower house, actually.” A thoughtful expression crossed the earl’s face. “It seems I have more family than I ever counted on before the Titanic sank.”
Something niggled in the back of Henry’s mind. “Yes, I believe I’d heard that was how you lost your father. You must miss him.”
“A few people must miss him, but I do not,” Gabriel said.
Henry simply nodded. He wasn’t the one to speak fondly of parental affection, not with the mother he’d suffered for too long. “Still, I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Gabriel smiled. “Why don’t you go freshen up? I believe our first footman is to see to your needs, so I suppose I’ll see you later this afternoon.”
The earl rose to his feet and Henry did likewise, taking the man’s offered hand in a hearty handshake.
“Thank you, Gabriel.”
“And know that you may stay at Hawksfell as long as you wish.”
Henry nodded. “There is nothing calling me back to Stanton House.”
Chapter 3
“Oh, he is frightfully handsome!” the countess’s maid gushed as she came into the kitchens.
Poppy rolled her eyes. Violet was always one with an eye for a pretty gentleman.
“He’s a Hawk, Violet,” Poppy said, smoothing her hands over the wooden work surface to clear it. “This surprises you?”
Violet’s eyes widened. “Oh, but he looks so much like the earl! And like that sinful Stefan Hawk, too.”
Poppy stiffened and glanced through the entry of the kitchen toward Mrs. Holmes office. The kitchens might be empty at this hour but the housekeeper was never far from her domain.
“Don�
��t let Mrs. Holmes catch you speaking so,” she warned. “The Hawk men are very special to her.”
Violet waved a hand. “I know, I know. Something about how the earl relied on her in his early years.”
“Then you know better than to speak of them with anything less than respect.”
“Perhaps.” Violet stared at her. “But Poppy, it’s not a sin to look.”
Poppy shrugged as she took tonight’s dessert out of the ice box, careful as she brought it to the cleared table. “What is there to look at? A handsome man is a handsome man. Lord knows we’ve seen enough of them.”
“Not you. You keep to the kitchens. What handsome men have you…oh!” Violet winked. “Been taking a shine to one of the footman? Maybe the earl’s new valet?”
Poppy’s cheeks heated, but not over the new valet. He was good-looking to be sure, but when Violet had mentioned the footman position she’d immediately envisioned Julian.
“I’m not taking a shine to anyone,” Poppy snapped, her hands on her hips. “I have to clean this kitchen and ready the dessert.”
Violet nodded. “True they’re a hungry bunch, those Hawks.” She came close to where Poppy was putting the final touches on tonight’s sweet treat, a layered lemon and cream cake drizzled with lemon-infused honey. “Ooh, they’ll love it!”
Poppy felt a surge of pride as she stepped back, wiping her hands on her apron. “It is lovely.”
“And delicious, I’ll bet.” Violet sighed. “Not that any of us will get a taste of it.”
Poppy leaned toward her. “I made a smaller version of this very cake for the staff to taste.” When Violet clasped her hands in delight, Poppy held up one of hers. “For after dinner service.”
Violet nodded vigorously. “Something to look forward to, for sure.”
One of the burly kitchen boys hustled by with a pot he’d been scrubbing, and Violet watched as he made his way toward the storage shelves. Poppy shook her head with a smile.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Violet?”
Violet looked back at her, grinning. “Yes, I do. But like I said, there’s no harm in looking.”