Yet he could not have been more gentlemanly when he offered her a hand up. "Are you all right, miss?"

Wondering if she had gone from the frying pan to the fire, she took his hand and scrambled to her feet. "Y-yes, my lord."

When she looked into his face, she felt shock of a different kind. Like his namesake, Lucifer, the earl blazed brighter than mortal man. If vice had ruined him, it did not yet show in his face, but his green-gold eyes held the weariness of a man who had seen the flames of hell. She hoped that he was not her enemy, for she guessed that he would be a deadly adversary.

His grip tightened on her hand. "What's your name?"

She was so shaken that she automatically said, "Kit," before she remembered that she had joined the household as Emmie Brown. Furious that she had revealed her true name, she turned her error into a stammered, "Kit-Kitty, my lord."

His gaze ran over. "Perhaps you would be worth fighting a duel over, Kitty."

Realizing that her torn bodice had almost completely bared one breast, she cringed back and used her free hand to pull the ripped fabric over herself.

He immediately released her hand. Reverting to his former detachment, he said, "Get yourself a cup of tea and go to bed, Kitty. A good night's sleep and you'll be fine."

Though she would like nothing better, she said, "I haven't finished my work yet, your lordship."

"The rest of the guests can sleep on unwarmed sheets tonight. I'll explain why to the duke so you won't be punished." His gaze went over her again. "Tell the housekeeper to assign someone older to this particular task the next time a hunting party visits. Now get along with you, Kitty. And for your own sake, learn to sharpen your claws."