Lucas could barely move his hands; he was more tempted to sink back into the sheets and let the cedar wrapped around him lull him under again. Unfortunately for him, Windstone had decided that his two masters should be responsible and start the day already.
"Young master, stop scowling; you are scaring the staff," Windstone said blandly, pouring coffee like he hadn't just dragged Lucas from his bed by sheer force of will.
Trevor, lounging against the headboard in nothing but loose linen trousers, chuckled low in his throat. "He's always like this in the morning. You should be used to it."
"I am," Windstone replied serenely, setting a cup within Lucas's reluctant reach. "But the staff isn't, and I've no intention of losing another maid to dramatics before luncheon."
Lucas cracked one green eye open, glaring over the rim of the blanket. "If she ran because I scowled, she wasn't meant for this house."
