“Aye, m’lady, yer needed.”

Gillian brushed her hair from her eyes, stole a quick glance at Noble to make sure he was still sleeping, sent another glance downward to verify that she was covered as decently as possible, discovered that the bed linens must have been kicked off sometime during the night, and blushed when she realized the only thing covering her womanly parts was her husband.

“Crouch, this really is the outside of enough! I don’t believe it’s proper for a butler, even a pirate butler, to come marching into one’s bedchamber.”

“I ’ave m’eyes covered, m’lady.”

“I can see that, Crouch, but I can also see that you are peeking, and if you think I won’t tell Lord Weston that, you are sadly mistaken.”

Crouch’s fingers slammed into tight formation. “’Tis those bits o’ ’is lordship’s muslins. They’re back and they won’t leave.”

“The mistresses? His mistresses, or rather ex-mistresses, since they are no longer in his employ, and even if they were, he wouldn’t employ all of them at the same time, although if last night was anything to go by…” She gazed at her sleeping husband’s face thoughtfully. “But no, my mind is wandering. Crouch, please tell the ladies I will be down shortly.”

“Aye, m’lady.”

“Oh, Crouch?”

The butler tipped his head in question.

“You didn’t really see anything you shouldn’t have, did you?”

“No, m’lady, just ’is lordship’s arse, and the sight o’ that’s nothin’ that fills me with joy.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Gillian said, reaching a fond hand over and stroking Noble’s lovely behind. “The sight of it fills me with joy. I think it’s quite a nice behind, as behinds go.”

“Mmmm?” Noble murmured and tightened his arm around Gillian.

“Nothing, my love,” Gillian cooed into his ear. “Crouch and I were just discussing your arse.”

“Aye, m’lord. ’Er ladyship is of the opinion it’s a sight to bring joy to the eye, but I’ve been debatin’ the point with ’er.” He eyed Noble with pursed lips, scratching at his chin with the sharp point of his hook. “Not that it ain’t attractive on its own, I reckon. If you like that sort of thing.”

“Crouch?” Noble breathed sleepily.

“Which I do, Crouch, and I’ll thank you to keep your disparaging comments to yourself and be about your business. I will tend to his lordship’s behind. And stop that peeking.”

Crouch grinned and, feeling the way toward the door with his hook, made his exit.

Gillian slid out from under the arm and leg Noble had tossed over her and stood for a moment, admiring his derriere. It was a very nice one. She put out a hand and pressed gently.

“I don’t know what Crouch is nattering on about. It’s very fit. I bet I could bounce a shilling off it if I were so inclined.”

With that happy thought she went to prepare to greet the mistresses.

Noble rolled onto his back and stretched carefully. His head felt like someone had been pounding on it with an anvil while his mouth tasted worse than something extremely nasty that he didn’t want to go to the trouble to think of lest it make his headache worse and his tongue feel even thicker.