“Indeed, my lady, your lord, my good and kind master, did seem to be a bit on the testy side this evening. Perhaps it is the weather. I myself feel the damp weather most strenuously in that portion of my limb which I left lying in a field in Poitiers. Indeed, I am sure that climbing the stairs to escort you will be beneficial and helpful to my unfortunate limb, as my master has only my happiness and well-being in mind. In God’s truth, I would not be surprised if my limb should regenerate itself due to all the happiness and well-being I find from having the opportunity to escort your ladyship to her room, keeping from your person any and all dangers as you might expect to find as you move from the subbasement to the first floor. I am almost certain I can feel my toes returning to life on that poor, misbegotten limb.”

“Toes are vastly overrated. You are much better off without them,” Charlotte said in a distracted voice, being busy with the regrouping of her thoughts and plans. She paused at the landing and turned to her companion. “Batsfoam, have you ever been in love?”

“Love?” He staggered back a few steps, apparently surprised at her question. “I, my lady? In love?”

Charlotte pursed her lips and continued up the stairs. “Yes, I wish to know. As you are Lord Carlisle’s personal servant, I shall bare my soul to you.”

The interested glint that always entered Batsfoam’s normally melancholy eyes around Charlotte glittered brightly. “I am speechless with the honor you do me, madam. I am overcome. I am beside myself with joy. I am fair to bursting with pride at this most unexpected gift from your gracious self. I burn to know your thoughts. Pray, tell me now before my heart should burst from the expectation and anticipation, leaving me a lifeless husk, a shell of my former self, dead here upon these very steps.”

Charlotte stopped at the top of the stairs and raised an eyebrow at the servant following her. “Batsfoam?”

“Yes, my lady?” He bowed low as he clumped his way up the last of the steps.

“It is obvious to me that you read far too many flowery novels. They have warped your mind. It is most unbecoming to have a butler whose mind is warped. Therefore, I must insist that you limit yourself in the future to no more than one flowery novel per month.”

His lips twitched as he bowed again, his head nearly touching his knees. “It shall be as you demand, madam. I shall struggle to fill the many long hours of free time I enjoy every day spent reading flowery novels in some other, more productive, employment. Perhaps I shall take up blacksmithing instead.”

“An excellent suggestion.” Charlotte nodded and allowed him to open the door to her sitting room. “Now, about my soul—as you are his lordship’s body servant and thus in his confidence, I shall reveal to you that I have made it my goal to fall in love with him. I am endeavoring to do so now, but you were witness to that sad episode below.”