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Gareth looked up “Is there a problem?”

“Well…no…” The valet looked pained Gareth tried to take pity on him Poor Mr Phelps hadn’t realized that he would occasionally be acting as a butler when he’d interviewed for the position, and clearly he’d never been taught the butlerian skill of keeping one’s face devoid of all emotion

“Mr Phelps?” Gareth queried

“He is a she, Mr St Clair”

“A hermaphrodite, Mr Phelps?” Gareth asked, just to see the poor fellow blush

To his credit, the valet erton”

Gareth juhs on the edge of the desk “Here?” he asked “Now?”

Phelps nodded, looking just a little bit pleased at his discoave me her card She was rather polite about it all As if it were nothing out of the ordinary”

Gareth’s ure out why on earth Hyacinth would do so so ill-advised as to call upon him at his hoht would have been better, but still, any nu

“Ah, show her in,” he said He couldn’t very well turn her out As it was, he would certainly have to return her to her hoine she’d coht no one save that pepper maid of hers, and heaven knew she was no protection on the streets of London

He crossed his arms as he waited His rooms were set up in a square, and one could access his study fro room or his bedchamber Unfortunately, the dayroom floor with some sort of twice-yearly wax that she swore (rather vocally and on her dear rave) would keep the floor clean and ward off disease As a result, the table had been shoved up against the door to the study, which h his bedroom

Gareth groaned and shook his head The last thing he needed was to picture Hyacinth in his bedroom

He hoped she felt aard pass

ing through It was the least she deserved, co out here on her own

“Gareth,” she said, appearing in the doorway