“This soon?” Danny asked as she started filling a plate. She wasn’t going to miss a full breakfast today. “Doesn’t it take time to send out invitations for parties?”

“Usually,” Mrs. Appleton agreed. “But not when it’s just family coming.”

“Oh,” Danny replied, not all that interested. “Well, I’ll be sure to stay out of the way.”

“No, you won’t. You and Claire will both be serving. So will Carlton.”

Danny had been doing just fine with her speech until she heard that. “Serving wot?”

“The food and drinks, of course.”

“That ain’t me job,” Danny pointed out reasonably.

“It is when we’re short on staff,” the cook countered, much to Danny’s dismay. “Every hand will be needed with some fifteen to twenty guests expected.”

“So it’s not just ’is family?”

“It is. The Malorys are abig family. But not all of them are in London at the moment. The Marquis of Haverston, head of the family, rarely comes to town, I’m told. And the earl’s two daughters aren’t in town either; they’re on their country estates with their husbands. One is married to a duke, you know.”

Royalty, Danny thought. The bleedin’ nabob was related to royalty! And Mrs. Appleton was sounding so proud, to be able to mention it.

“I’m feeling sick,” Danny said.

“The devil you are,” the cook snorted. “This will be a good test of your resourcefulness, my dear. With a little instruction, you’ll do just fine.”

That was doubtful, but Danny said no more on the subject. The breakfast didn’t sit well with her, going down on a nervous stomach, which she now had, so she didn’t eat her fill after all and headed upstairs to start her routine. Maybe if she avoided the housekeeper for the rest of the day, the woman would forget about giving her new instructions and Danny wouldn’t be forced to serve royalty that night.

In her nervous state, she managed to clean the entire upper floor by noon—except for Jeremy’s room. He was still in it, so she wasn’t going near it.

By midmorning, Mrs. Robertson had found her and took her to the large dining room for that promised instruction. There really wasn’t that much to learn, just whom to serve first, how to pour wine without gaining notice, to watch the glasses and refill them as needed. The men would apparently serve themselves drinks prior to dinner. She’d only have to fetch a tea tray if the ladies requested it. She was to stay on hand, though, in the parlor, in case there were any other requests. She just had to stay unobtrusive and not draw any attention to herself.

“And look your neatest,” Mrs. Robertson had warned before she sent Danny back to her cleaning.

Danny blushed. Claire had snidely mentioned her wrinkles that morning, too. She was going to have to give up her habit of sleeping in her clothes, obviously.

“Danny, come here, please.”

She sighed mentally. So much for avoiding Malory. He was the only one left upstairs, and hestill hadn’t left his room. But obviously, he was no longer sleeping in it. He’d opened his door to call her and had left it open.

She peeked her head around the corner of the doorframe. He was still abed, lying on it, his arms crossed behind his head, looking so damned comfortable and relaxed. He wasn’t fully dressed. He was wearing just a white lawn shirt, fastened only halfway up his chest, and buff-colored breeches. No shoes or stockings.

Lazing the day away, that’s what she used to do before she got areal job. Bleedin’ nabobs. And how was she supposed to clean his room if he wouldn’t leave it?

She was making excuses for her annoyance when, the truth was, seeing him lying in bed set her pulses racing. God, she wished he wasn’t so damned handsome that her fingers itched to touch him.

“Don’t you have something to do during the day that would take you elsewhere?” she said more sharply than she should have.

Her voice drew his attention to her and his cobalt eyes widened in surprise. He even sat up on the edge of the bed. “Good God, you’re beautiful!” he exclaimed.

Danny would have been pleased to hear Carlton say so, but Malory’s flattery didn’t impress her, since she knew his motives. Besides, she wasn’t at her best, so she snorted. “You’re a bleedin’ liar. I’ve been told twice already today that I’m wrinkled beyond salvation.”

“Wrinkles can’t hide potential, dear girl. What you wear doesn’t detract from your amazing bone structure, doesn’t change the unique color of your hair, doesn’t alter the violet clarity of your eyes. But since I was already familiar with all that, what I probably should have said was, ‘Good God, you’ve got nice breasts!’ ”

Her face went up in flames. But she couldn’t call him a liar this time, not when she’d spent ten of those thirty minutes yesterday in front of his mirror admiring just how nicely she filled out her new blouse.

She scowled at him though, flustered enough to slip back into her street talk. “Mentioning me br**sts ain’t proper, is it?”

He grinned unrepentantly and assured her, “Only in mixed company.”

Her lips flattened out. “Then ye talk to all yer servants like ye do to me, eh?”

“No, just those I hope to get extremely intimate with. By the by, this is a comfortable bed. Would you like to try it sooner rather than later—like now?”

She should have known better than to ask questions that would encourage him to be more outlandish. “The only thing I’ll be doing with that bed is fixing the covers on it after ye get out o’ it.”

“I’m wounded.” He sighed.

“Yer lazy. Go do something so I can clean yer room.”

“But I am doing something. I’m recuperating from last night’s entertainment, and resting up for tonight. And besides, your job doesn’t require a room to be unoccupied. You can clean around me.” He turned on his side, bent his elbow to rest his head on one hand, and grinned at her again. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

Right. As if that were even remotely possible. But she could try not to look at him. Bleedin’ hell, that wouldn’t work, because she’d know he was watching her. And even if he wasn’t, she’d think he was and be glancing at him to find out, and…

“I’ll wait.”

“You can’t,” he seemed happy to tell her. “I’ll be resting here until dinner.”

She gritted her teeth, ripped the duster out of her apron pocket, and turned toward his small writing desk with the intention of attacking it with her feathers. She gasped instead, seeing the hat lying on it. It hadn’t been there yesterday.

“Me ’at! Why do ye still ’ave it?”

There was a shrug in his tone. “I kept it as a keepsake of an— interesting experience.”

“I’ve missed it.”

“Too bad. Belongs to me now.”

She glanced back at him curiously. “Why? You wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it.”

“Don’t intend to wear it. Don’t intend to give it up either. So if I find it missing, I’ll know where to look, won’t I?”

“I’ve given up stealing.”

“Glad to hear it. Then I’ll consider my hat safe.” That got him a glare, to which he only chuckled. “Cheer up, luv. It really doesn’t go with skirts, you know. Frilly bonnets are what you need now.”

She snorted. “I’ll wear these bleedin’ skirts, but those silly lady hats aren’t for me.”

He tsked. “You’re thinking like a man again.”

“So shoot me.”

She went on to attack the desk as she’d intended, but it was rather deflating to find no dust on it yet that she could scatter about the room. She was careful not to touch her—his hat. She had a feeling he was silently laughing at her for having gotten into such a rotten mood over a hat. As if she cared.

When she took a moment to really look at the room, she was glad to see she’d done such a good job on it yesterday that there was barely anything to do to it today other than pick up a few clothes he’d dropped here and there. She gathered those and started to leave with them, keeping her gaze well away from the bed.

“Hell’s bells, Danny, you aren’t thinking of depriving me of your delightful company already, are you?”

He truly sounded disappointed. A ruse, no doubt. Still, she found herself stopping at the door to say, “You have guests coming tonight. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done before they get here.”

He sighed. “Ah, yes, my first foray into entertaining on the home front.” Then he added somewhat snidely, “Mimicking your betters again, are you?”

She stiffened, realizing he was referring to her speech. “No, actually, Mrs. Robertson has been coaching me.”

“Good God! And you caught on that quickly? Amazing.”

He was being derisive, so she didn’t bother to tell him that the way she used to talk was coming back to her more and more. She still had too many lapses when she got nervous or angry for him to believe her, so she changed the subject instead.

“I’m surprised you’re having a party this soon. I’ve barely gotten all the dust and grime off the new furniture.”

“I assure you it wasn’t my idea.”

She lifted a brow. “Let me guess: your cousin?”

“Of course.”

Since he sounded annoyed at the moment, Danny’s mood improved a lot. She even flashed him a cheeky grin. “Cheer up, mate. I was told it’s just your family coming. No need to impress family, eh?”

“On the contrary. I could care less about impressing mere acquaintances. It’s my family that needs to think I’m getting along fine or they’ll join forces to find out why not and proceed to correct the matter.”

“You’re a grown man. Why don’t they let you muddle through on your own?”

“Because they love me, of course.”

Chapter 19

BECAUSE THEY LOVE ME, OF COURSE. Danny couldn’t get those words out of her mind. Must be nice to have that kind of family. Her “family” had never really felt like family. Members joined Dagger’s band between the ages of five and ten, so there was no birth bond to generate a feeling of true closeness, and they usually left between the ages of fourteen and seventeen, to set off on their own. Rarely did any that left come back to visit. Once gone, gone for good.

Danny had enjoyed helping the younger children and had even had a few favorites over the years, but still, none that felt like brothers or sisters to her. Lucy was the only one she’d really developed a closeness to. Lucy was like a sister. But once Lucy had started whoring, she didn’t have much time to spare for Danny.

But she was going to start a family of her own. That thought had been in the back of her mind now for quite a few years, though never seriously until now, since her masquerade had restricted her options in that regard. Hard to go looking for a husband if you looked like a husband yourself. She was herself now, though, or trying to be, so there was nothing to stop her from getting married as soon as the right man came along. And then finally, she’d have a real family.

The Malorys didn’t arrive all at once; they trickled in over several hours prior to dinner. Regina Eden and her husband, Nicholas, were the first to arrive, probably because they lived only a few houses away.

Regina stopped short when she saw Danny in her dark blue skirt and white blouse, a light blue apron this time giving her even more color. She said only, “Famous. My eyesight must be going. I can usually recognize my own sex, no matter what they’re wearing.”

“Was pro’bly my hair, ma’am. The rakish male style, you know.”

“I suppose.” Regina sighed. “Just feels deuced awkward, having made such a colossal mistake.”

“Beautiful chit,” Danny heard Nicholas Eden remark to his wife as they moved off to join Drew on the other side of the large parlor.

“You weren’t supposed to notice,” Regina chided him, though in an amused tone. “But I’m sure Jeremy did.”

More and more Malorys arrived after that. Carlton was letting them in. Danny did have to fetch a tea tray, and still another as the evening wore on. She caught their names in snippets of conversations that she overheard. She also caught many of them looking her way curiously.

The two ladies who had joined in the shopping expedition yesterday turned out to be Jeremy’s cousin and his aunt by marriage. The dark-haired cousin was Kelsey, married to Derek, one of the big, blond, handsome Malory men. Derek’s father, Jason, was the marquis who rarely came to town.

The copper-haired beauty was Roslynn, married to Jeremy’s uncle Anthony. This chap bowled Danny over when she first saw him. Anthony looked so much like Jeremy it was uncanny, just an older version. It must be odd, though, knowing exactly what you will look like when you get older. But then the older version was so bleeding handsome, it was no wonder Jeremy fairly reeked with confidence. He knew he had many, many years of the amazing sexual appeal he possessed to look forward to.

Another uncle arrived, the earl Mrs. Appleton had mentioned. Edward Malory was a jovial sort from the blond side of the family. About ten years or so older than his brother Anthony, Edward had a large family of his own. His wife, Charlotte, was present, and their two grown sons, Travis and Marshall. They had three daughters, too, apparently, all married, and none expected tonight. Two of the girls lived in the country, but the youngest, Amy, had sailed to America with her husband, Warren, who was one of Drew Anderson’s brothers. They were expected home sometime that summer, but no one knew for certain when.