A moment later the door opened and he stepped inside. ‘Where is your mistress?’ he demanded of the maid, handing her his cane and hat. He began to pull off his gloves. The maid stared at him with terrified eyes. ‘Y-your Grace. Sh-she’s in her bedchamber.’ ‘Fetch her.’ He removed his coat and gave it to the servant. ‘Y-yes, Your Grace.’ The young girl had only taken a step when he spoke again. ‘No. I will go myself.’ He ascended the stairs and strode down the short corridor before entering the bedchamber situated at the end. Beth was seated at her dressing table, attired in a cream-coloured nightgown and matching robe trimmed heavily with lace, brushing her dark hair. At his entry, his mistress stood up immediately, a startled look on her face. He closed the door behind him. ‘Your Grace! I was not expecting you this evening.’ Trent was already unfastening his breeches as he walked towards the bed.
