The Paid Companion | Herophine

Chapter Seven

Zach

Zach stood in the darkness of the linen closet and considered closely the conversation he had overheard earlier.

It was quite a by accident that he had discovered the small hole in the hidden wall panel that made it possible for someone inside the closet to eavesdrop on conversations in the library. He suspected that the secret opening had been cut many years before, by a clever servant who'd had the good sense to keep track of his employers’ business.

One thing was certain, Zach thought. He had been right about Miss Langford. He had known from that very first moment when he had caught her examining the dusty table in the hall that there was something strange about her. True, she had smiled at him, the way women always did, but he had not detected the telltale flash of lust in her eyes. Not even a glimmer of sensual interest.

She had admired him the way one might admire an attractive painting or work of art; with appreciation but nothing more.

It was most unusual and somewhat disturbing. His face was his fortune, as his mother had predicted, and people, especially women, always responded to his fine looks.

He had been aware straight from the cradle that his handsome features were a great asset. Even as a young boy, he’d understood that people regarded him in a way that was markedly different than the manner in which they viewed his brothers and sisters and the other children in his village.

His face had made it easy for him to obtain that first, fateful post in the household of the fat, ageing baron who had lived just outside of the village. The old man had recently married a lady several decades younger than himself. It transpired that his lordship’s new bride was very pretty and very bored. She had been delighted with Zach; dressing him in handsome livery and insisting that he wait upon her at every meal.

The first night that she had invited him into her bed he had quickly understood that he possessed another great asset in addition to his face. At that moment when he had knelt behind her plump, soft buttocks, burrowing deep into her snug heat, he had glimpsed a vision of the bright, successful future that awaited him.

It had dawned on him that fateful evening that the world was likely well-populated with rich, attractive young wives who, for reasons of money and social connections, had been married off to fat, old men. He had concluded that London would afford him the best career opportunities.

He had been correct. When the aged baron had died in his sleep a few months later, his widow had wasted no time moving her entire household to town. She had taken Zach with her, promoting him to the rank of butler. He had remained in her employ for more than a year before growing weary of her unceasing demands.

He had eventually left her service and sought another post. It had not taken him long to find an even more lucrative position in another wealthy household. Once again he had found himself called upon to satisfy a young wife whose bald, middle-aged husband spent most of his nights with his mistress.

Like his first employer, the lady had been very generous, not just with her favours and his quarterly wages, but also, more important, with expensive gifts.

For a few years, he had pursued his career with great diligence. In addition to several posts in which he was obliged to meet the demands of several astonishingly lusty ladies, he had obtained one or two positions in the service of wealthy gentlemen. The men had been just as appreciative of his two great assets as the women.

But a year ago, disaster had struck. True, he had long since grown weary of the tiresome demands of his employers. Work that nature had intended to be pleasurable had become, well, work. Nevertheless, he had told himself that the pay and the gifts were worth the labour.

Then one night, to his great horror, a problem arose. Rather, to be more precise, his second great asset had failed to arise.

His face might have been his fortune, but it was not much good on its own. His excellent career depended just as much, if not more, upon his reliability and endurance in bed.

To his dismay, he had been ignominiously let go from his post. But once again luck had been with him. Seven months ago he had found his present position here in the mansion in Rain Street. The elderly man-of-business who had hired him had given him a few simple instructions. Zach was to supervise a small staff suitable for maintaining the large house and ensure that the earl’s London residence would be ready for its owner on the rare occasions that Hero Fiennes Tiffin elected to come to town for one of his brief stays.

Zach had found his new post to be ideal in every respect. Not only was there no employer to be kept satisfied in the bedchamber, but Tiffin had not even bothered to put in an appearance.

Until now Zach had been free to do as he liked in the big house. He had used the opportunity to set about making arrangements for an early and comfortable retirement.

Things had been going well until Tiffin had arrived a few days before, unannounced, expecting the household to be prepared for him. Zach had been terrified for the first twenty-four hours after the earl had taken up residence. Emboldened by the long absence of his employer, he had made several modifications to the staff. The result was that the mansion was not in the best order.

He had made the changes for an excellent reason: economy. There had been no point retaining the cook or the housekeeper or the second chambermaid or the gardeners when the mansion’s owner was not around to make use of their services.

He could only hope that Tiffin would not stay long, Zach thought. In the meantime, he would learn as much as possible about the earl’s private affairs.

Over the course of his career, he had discovered that there was often a very good market for information about his employers’ secrets.