Chapter 89

George got the step back in place and moved away smoothly when he felt St. Claire’s hand on his hair, pretending to be unaware of the touch. He closed the door and climbed up onto the seat. He gathered up the reins, cracked the whip, making sure not to hit the horses with it, and began the drive to Gramercy.

Once they arrived, the actions were repeated, and George stood behind the door.

St. Claire frowned at him, then said, “There’s a room attached to the stable with a bed. Remember to make yourself comfortable—get some sleep.” He bared his teeth in a shark’s grin. He probably meant George should strip down and get under the covers.

“Yes, sir.” Unless that room had a door with a lock, George had no intention of removing a stitch of clothing. He went to the horses’ heads, caught their bridles just above the bits, and led them down the drive to the stable.

He left the horses and the carriage in the yard, entered the stable, and lit a lantern so he could see what he was doing.