Part 5 (1/2)

They left and Emma looked down at Lord Ragsdale again. His eye was open, and he was watching her warily.

”I don't recall inviting you into my room,” he said.

”You didn't,” she agreed as she unb.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt. ”But I in-tend to hold you to your word, my lord.”

He stared at her, and she nearly laughed out loud to watch a variety of expressions cross his face. He finally settled on irritation, and clamped his hands over hers. ”Leave my s.h.i.+rt alone, Emma Costello,” he ordered.

She brushed his hands aside and kept unb.u.t.toning. ”As to that, if you wish to take a bath with your s.h.i.+rt on, you may, but it seems a little ramshackle, even for an Englishman.”

He tried to glare at her, but the effort of squinting must have hurt his tender head. ”Who said I was going to take a bath?” he asked, and began to rub his forehead.

”I did, my lord,” she stated firmly. ”You are disgusting, and we have things to do today. Now, take off your s.h.i.+rt.”

”I won't.”

”You will.”

He did, to her surprise. The maids returned with more water, which they poured into the tub, and then beat a hasty retreat for the door, their eyes wide with amazement. The footman stood there with a towel draped over his arm, grinning from ear to ear. ”Come on, my lord,” he wheedled. ”It's not so bad.”

Lord Ragsdale lay back down again and stared up at Emma. ”I seem to recall something last night. I signed a paper. Emma! What are you doing?”

”If you won't unb.u.t.ton your trousers, then I will,” she said, hoping that her voice sounded firm and that her hands did not shake. ”You asked me to reform you, and even signed a statement to that effect. Hold still, my lord, or do it yourself.”

He leaped up from the bed, nearly toppled over, and sank down, his head in his hands. ”Emma, this is insane.”

”I have it in writing, my lord,” she stated. ”Once you are reformed, I am released from my indenture. Now take off your pants and get in that tub.” Emma rose and went to the door. ”Han-ley here said that he would fill in as your valet, my lord.”

”I want a drink first,” Lord Ragsdale said, and looked toward the dressing room. The longing in his eyes was unmistakable.

He looked at her, his eyes pleading with her, and she had a moment's pause. Such Turkish treatment is a lot to thrust on a fellow, she thought. I shall enjoy this part especially.

”So that's where you keep it,” she exclaimed, and hurried into the dressing room, stepping over dirty laundry and nearly tripping over his boots by the door. She found two brandy bottles and a quart of wine, which she tucked under her arm.

Lord Ragsdale watched her from the bed, and smiled as she came back into his room. He held out his hand. ”Give it here, Emma,” he ordered.

Emma took a deep breath and went to the open window. She looked down to make sure that no one was pa.s.sing below, and dropped each bottle out of the window, listening with satisfaction to the crash and tinkle on the pavement below.

She did not think it was possible for Lord Ragsdale to go any paler than he already was, but he did. He whimpered something disjointed and flopped back on his bed as though she had shot him. He lay there in silence for a long moment, and then he waved his hand toward the footman.

”Hanley, go to the cellar and get me some more brandy.”

The footman grinned and shook his head. ”Oh, I can't, my lord.

It's been sealed up, according to your orders.”

”What?” he shrieked.

”Just so, my lord,” Emma chimed in. ”You signed a paper last night. I am to reform you.”

”Never!”

Emma returned to the bed and started on his pants. ”If I have to serve an indenture with you, my lord, one of us is going to change. And it's not going to be me.”

”I,” he corrected automatically. ”Don't you shanty Irish know anything?”

Emma resisted the urge to smile. ”Well, sir, do you continue with your trousers, or must I?”

”Dare you, Emma,” he said as he stood up again, clutching his half-unb.u.t.toned pants with one hand and the bedpost with the other.

Emma sighed, reminded of her little brother. ”Lord Ragsdale, you are the worst kind of whiner. Hold still.” She unb.u.t.toned his trousers and held them down until he had no choice but to stagger out of them.

”Very good, my lord,” she said as he leaned against the bedpost, clad only in his small clothes. ”I am sure that Hanley can carry on from here.”

Lord Ragsdale shook his head, then clutched it with an oath. ”Oh, no, Emma Costello,” he said, and there was a little bite to his voice this time. ”You started it, you finish it. I like my back scrubbed first.”

She watched in surprise, and then amus.e.m.e.nt as he stepped out of his small clothes, made a rude gesture to her, and staggered toward the tub.

He turned to look at her, injury all over his face. ”You could at least close the windows,” he said. ”I have goose b.u.mps all over my a.s.s.”

”I'm sure that it will not prove fatal, my lord,” she said, wis.h.i.+ng she could rush into the hall and laugh herself into a coma.

He stared at her a moment longer, then had the delicacy to cover his parts with the washcloth. ”Emma, you're no lady,” he said. ”Shouldn't you be fainting, or something?”

”And you are most certainly no gentleman,” she said. ”I wouldn't dream of fainting, and miss all this high drama.”

He sat down slowly as the steam rose from the water.

”If I drown, you're to blame,” he said, his voice virtuous.

”It won't come to that, I'm sure,” she told him as she picked up the scrub brush and bar of soap. ”Now bend forward.” She lathered up his back and scrubbed away, ignoring his protests of harsh ill-treatment. When she finished, she took a washcloth to his face, making sure there was plenty of soap on the cloth.

”Goodness, did I get soap in your eye?” she asked when he began to squirm and tried to grab her wrist. ”How careless of me. Perhaps you'd rather do this yourself after all, my lord. Here, push your head down in the water. That should help.”

She shoved his head under the water and held it there as long as she dared. When he came up sputtering and swearing, Hanley had to stuff the end of the towel in his mouth to contain himself.

”I'll see you in Newgate Prison!” Lord Ragsdale roared, quite sober now.

Emma leaped to her feet and moved quickly away from Lord Ragsdale's reach. ”Excellent, my lord. I was planning to go there myself this afternoon,” she said as Hanley gave up and roared with laughter. ”Really, Hanley! Your mother tells me that your secretary is incarcerated there, and I mean to ask his advice.”

”You can't be serious,” Lord Ragsdale said, standing up and reaching for a towel.

”Oh, I am so serious, my lord. If I am to be your secretary, too, I had better learn the business from a master.” She smiled back at Lord Ragsdale as he stared hard at her and wrapped the towel around his waist. ”Only I promise not to cheat you. I think it will be much more diverting to reform you. After luncheon, then, Lord Ragsdale?”

”I wouldn't follow you across the street, you presumptuous parcel of Irish baggage.”

”Oooh, sticks and stones, my lord,” she replied. ”Then I'll go by myself. If you want anything before this afternoon, I'll be in your book room, sorting out your bills.”