Lady: Impossible Read Free Page A

anymore.
    Blair and I barely take two steps into the front garden before my mother detects the tension between us. It must be incredibly obvious.  
    ‘Whatever she said, you should ignore it,’ she says to him, ‘she’s terrible like that. It’s why she hasn’t found a husband.’
    ‘At least I’m not the scandalous one.’ I kiss her on both cheeks, though she probably doesn’t deserve it.
    ‘Yes, for now.’ She throws a curious look at Blair. ‘Where are Millie’s bags? You know better than to stand around.’  
    ‘They’re still in Scotland, m’lady.’
    She turns to me, and I know an overreaction is guaranteed. ‘What are you saying ? Are you not staying long?’
    ‘Yes, I consciously decided to pack absolutely nothing so I have no reason to be upset that the airline lost my bags.’
    ‘I’ll call the airport for an update,’ Blair says.  
    I doubt it. He’ll probably tell them I’m a drug-smuggler.  
    She’s still suspicious of me. ‘Are you sure that’s it?’  
    I sigh. ‘They said they’ll deliver them later today.’
    ‘Okay then.’ She ushers me into the house before I can escape. After following me in, she turns around and speaks to Blair, who shuts the front door behind him. ‘Oh, Blair, I found a firmer mattress for you. If you can manage, swap yours with the one in the green bedroom. If not, we’ll have to enlist one of the neighbours to help you move it.’
    I whip around, alarmed. ‘Why does he need a mattress?’
    ‘What? You think it’s fair to let him sleep on the floor?’ She puts her hands on her hips. ‘And you say I’m the harsh one.’
    ‘Why is he sleeping here at all?’  
    It’s Blair who provides the answer. ‘I live here, m’lady. I’m a live-in butler.’
    It’s impossible to miss the look of triumph in his eyes. It’s completely unnerving, like he actually believes he’s proven me wrong in some respect.  
    My mother is unruffled in her explanation. ‘It’s more convenient this way. He was having trouble with his flatmates.’
    So, this is the real reason he was so evasive about where he lived. My stomach lurches. I’m far too stunned to say anything. I end up staring at the pair of them with my mouth wide open. I’m sure it’s very unattractive, though I am in the comfort of my own home. Oh wait, it’s the family home – one of them, at least – and the hot butler apparently lives with us now.  
    I don’t know how good the mattress in the green bedroom is, but I had better not find myself wanting to test it. And I swear, if my mother has designs on him, I will scream from here to August.  
    When I finally come to, I say something completely worthy of my expensive education:
    ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’
    And with that I stalk off to the sitting room to fix myself a drink.

Chapter 2:  

    It’s a stupid decision, stalking into the sitting room. I’ve forgotten how museum-like it is in here – it certainly isn’t a place to relax. The settee is almost three hundred years old, and I can never sit on it without feeling like I’m perched upon a ledge covered in blue and gold wallpaper, those two colours being the scheme for the room. And then there’s the imposing presence of my ancestor, the Second Earl of Silsbury, whose giant portrait hangs over the mantelpiece. I always feel like he’s judging me, disapproving of the fact I’m sitting on his sofa. Once, when I came home drunk after a gala, I actually told him to get over it. Maybe he hasn’t forgotten.  
    And the sitting room isn’t exactly a smart place to pick to avoid the butler… I can hear my mother telling Blair to bring me my tea, despite the fact that I’m apparently ‘a bigger drama queen’ than her. He’ll be here any minute, and I’ll have nothing to do but to talk to him again, because not only is there no alcohol here – I forgot that my father moved the cabinet – but there’s no television either.  
    I dump my handbag on the rug, and its contents