-CHAPTER 36 -
Félix.
One thing the duke despised his butler for not possessing was the simple, delicate skill of perception – knowing when to read his damn mood and freaking leave him alone when he didn't want to be disturbed. At the very least, Bach ought to have picked up a few things from being by his side after all this time, Félix supposed. But no! The opposite presented itself to be the case. Every. Damn. Time.
But his butler was indisputably a know-it-all, so Félix would not accept to think of him any other way. Resignedly, the Duke concluded that Bach was doing this thing on purpose; no other explanation was needed.
Félix resumed his walk down the hall. He slowed his pace and hoped his irate nerves would calm before approaching the butler and the person behind him.
The almost black-skinned woman was doing a weak job of shading behind Bach, Félix considered. For one, she was thickset and bosomy, whereas Bach was lanky at best.
