Trouble With Harry by Katie MacAlister

giggle at him, and instead asked, “Yes, well, Arasanto, have you seen his lordship this morning?”
    â€œOne.”
    â€œYou saw him at one this morning?”
    He gave her a very polished leer. “No, Juan. It is my name. You may call me Juan rather than Arasanto. It is preferred, yes?”
    Plum took a deep breath and reminded herself that no matter how much she might like to either burst into hysterical laughter or scream, neither were actions suitable to a new marchioness. “I see. Very well, Juan, do you know where my husband is?”
    He shrugged and pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward a narrow, dark passage. “Harry is probably hiding in his office.”
    â€œHarry?” Plum asked, a little surprised by a servant addressing his master by his first name.
    â€œHe asks me to call him that because he calls me Juan, eh?”
    â€œOh. I see. Yes, well…um…thank you.” Plum started toward the passage, but found her way blocked by the amorous Spaniard.
    â€œYou would like for me to show you around the house first, eh? I have many things of interest to show you.” His eyebrows waggled at her again.
    Plum knew she should be offended or angry with such blatant flirting by a servant, but she found herself oddly amused by Juan. He was so sure of his charm, so obvious about his innuendoes, she couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, but I will have my husband—your employer—show me around the house. I’m sure he, too, has many interesting things to show me.”
    â€œHe is old, that one. I am young and how it’s said, virile.”
    â€œHe’s not that old.” Plum laughed. “And considering he has five children, I would hazard that his virility is not in doubt.”
    Juan shuddered and crossed himself. “Santa Maria, those ones are spawned by the devil himself.”
    â€œOh, come now, they’re a bit high-spirited, but they aren’t really that bad.” Plum sidled around Juan while he was busy rolling his eyes. “A little untamed, perhaps, but that is no doubt due to having been without a mother for the last few years. I quite like them.”
    Juan grabbed her hand as she moved past him, bowing over it again, brushing his lips against her knuckles before Plum yanked her hand back. “It is because you have not been here with them that you think they are the angels. They are not. And now, most very lady, I will return to my duties. You are mistress here now, you will want to speak to me later about my duties, yes? I will await your pleasure in the pantry of butlers.” His black, liquid eyes sent her a message that was unmistakable. Plum’s lips twitched as she struggled to keep from giggling. She hurried down the dark passage, wondering how on earth Harry had come to employ such a bold butler, when his words sank in.
    â€œWhat can Harry be hiding from, I wonder?” she mused as she approached a door. She entered a small, extremely tidy room and smiled at the man sitting behind a desk piled high with books and papers. “Good morning, Mr. Harris. Can you tell me where I might find Lord…merciful St. Genevieve, what was that?”
    The loud crash that came from the hallway made Plum jump. She turned back to the secretary, expecting him to leap up and investigate.
    â€œHis lordship is through the door to your right. If you could possibly convince him to allow his room to be cleaned, I would be eternally grateful.”
    Plum stared at him as if he had horns growing from his head. “Didn’t…didn’t you hear the crash? From the hall? Shouldn’t you investigate?”
    Temple tipped his head to the side as he considered her. “No. I’ve found it’s much safer not to be too curious about those sorts of things.”
    â€œSafer?” Plum gaped at him, positively gaped, and she was not a woman who took gaping lightly. “But…but…the children could