Dukes By the Dozen

Of course, he thought almost smiling. A marquess’s daughter. She had undoubtedly balanced a goodly number of books on her head.

“How can I help you, Your Grace?” she asked,setting the glasses down on a table and arranging her skirts. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

Adam was becoming even more enchanted. She sat in a shaft of sunlight that wove yellows and reds into what had appeared to be dun brown hair. It also did not escape his attention that she had large, sparkling green eyes that seemed indescribably soft.

Taking a moment to lay his cane against the couch so he could reach his feet more easily, he faced her, hoping he looked harmless and friendly. “To my eternal regret,” he said, “we have not met before now. I’m afraid that I have only recently been allowed to return home from the Continent. But I know about you. Jamie spoke and wrote of you often.”

She stilled, her expression crumpling a little, and Adam regretted his flippancy. “Please accept my apology,” he said. “And my sincere condolences. I should have begun at the beginning. I am Adam Marrick, Mrs. Grace. Jamie’s cousin.”

And there it was, he thought. The reason Jamie had fallen in love with Georgina Wyndham in the first place. That smile. Wide, bright, warm, all-encompassing, as if she embraced not just him but the world. Before he knew it, Adam was smiling back.

“He loved you very much,” he said.

Her eyes glittered with welling tears, but that smile held. “I know,” she whispered. “I loved him as well. I am so very glad to finally meet you. He spoke of you as well, of course. You were quite his hero, even though you didn’t have the sense to join the Navy. Hussars, wasn’t it?”

“It was.”

She nodded. “I suspect that Jamie was quite jealous, actually. He never did manage to sit a horse properly, or I believe he would have trotted off after you like a faithful pup.”

Adam shook his head, his chest tight with too-familiar grief. Jamie had only been one of the good friends he had lost. At least he hadn’t been forced to see Jamie’s body blasted to pieces or hold him as he died. Small comfort.

“No,” he said. “I believe he was meant for the sea. A true Dorsetman.”

Her own grief darkened her expressive eyes, even as she kept smiling. “I am so glad you have made it home safe.”

He grinned and tapped at his leg. “A bit banged up, but whole.”

Her face folded once again into bemusement. “But...duke? The last I heard you were a mere mister….well, colonel.”

His smile grew wry. “There was a cousin,” he said. “On my father’s side. He and his son were lost at sea while I was in Belgium. I came home to find myself lord and master of a rather shabby manor house in Cumbria, an even shabbier town house in Mayfair and a stables full of very prime thoroughbreds in Newmarket. Needless to say, it has been an adjustment. Otherwise I would have looked for you much sooner.”

She waved off his apology. “I’m not sure you would have found me much sooner.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “That is what I hear. The lawyers told me that you have been...shall we say, unavailable for the better part of two years until this summer? Something about your brother’s wife and child needing refuge?”

“A long story for another time. Are you staying nearby, sir? I would be happy to put you up here, but as I said, my brother and his wife are currently in London dealing with some family business.”

“No, no,” he demurred. “I am at the King’s Nose.” He couldn’t help a laugh. “You do have some imaginative innkeepers hereabouts.”

Her chuckle was throaty and sweet. “Will Bass claims George the First once stopped in for an ale while suffering from a head cold and left his handkerchief behind. I imagine it’s as good a story as any.”

She was about to say something else when a clatter rose outside the parlor doors. Adam was all set to jump to his feet to defend the house, but Jamie’s wife didn’t budge. She simply put on a kind smile and waited as the doors were once again yanked open and a line of servants processed in, each seeming to barely keep hold of wobbly trays filled with a tea service and enough bakery items to have fed an officer’s mess. Adam considered it one of his greater acts of bravery that he held his place even as the tray of teacakes tipped precariously in his direction, threatening the cleanliness of his attire. The girl fighting against gravity couldn’t have been more than fifteen, her mobcap sliding down over her forehead and her uniform just a little too large and long. It was a recipe for disaster.

And yet Jamie’s wife simply sat with a quiet smile on her face. Adam was truly impressed. She was inches from being scalded by the tea her butler carried.

“Set those on the table by me, please, Mary,” she said calmly, gesturing toward the tea table.

“Yes’m.” Mary didn’t look nearly as assured as she bent her knees to deposit the tray on the table with a sharp clang that spoke ill for the table’s health. Behind her another girl, this one with the darkest skin Adam had ever seen and a limp almost as pronounced as his, followed with another tray of delicacies. The butler, his freckled face taut with concentration, lowered the tea tray onto a second table. The pot slid back and forth a bit, but failed to fly and settled with no more than a small rattle when it was deposited. Adam quashed an impulse to applaud.

He turned to witness the return of Georgie Grace’s magnificent smile, which truly seemed to cast its glow across the three young faces. “Oh, excellent, all three of you. You have improved so much.” Then, leaning forward a bit, she pitched her voice low. “Would you like to meet a duke?”

Three faces froze. The girl named Mary actually gasped.

“Your Grace,” Jamie’s wife said. “I realize it is a bit of a protocol breech, but may I introduce you to three of our staff, who have only been with us for a month, and see how beautifully they are doing.”

“I do see,” he agreed. “They have great potential.”

She turned that blinding smile on him, leaving him a bit dizzy, and returned to her staff. “Pay your respects as I announce you. Our butler is Tom Nelson, our maids Maisy Tuesday and Mary Willard.” Each bobbed in turn and waited. “Now, off with you,” she ordered. “If there are any pastries left, share them with the others.”

The three fled as if Adam had growled. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Others?” he asked.

Her smile grew impish as she bent to prepare the tea. “We are the despair of the parish...well, I imagine I am. Jack and Olivia haven’t been here enough lately to be considered accomplices. But I decided that since I am mostly out of society it would be a safe place for them to train up. I admit they have been a delight.”

“Can I ask how Maisy came to be here? She doesn’t quite seem to be a local.”

Immediately the smile disappeared. “She found herself lost on foreign shores when her American master died of the ague in London. My sister-by-marriage, Olivia, found her and brought her to us. I am so glad, too. She is teaching me so much about America. I’m even learning a bit of the Creole language. She is from New Orleans, where we lost so many of our brave young men.”

“A stupid venture altogether, that war.”

She just nodded.

For a long few minutes the only sounds that could be heard in the room were the crackle of the fire and the soft chime of porcelain being moved about as Georgie Grace prepared tea. Adam soaked in the ritual of normalcy like sun on a cold body. This was what he had dreamed of back on the Peninsula, small homey moments spent in safe places. The gentle scents of women—hers seemed to be something flowery—and the comforting motions of daily ritual. Tea and cakes. A woman’s laughter. A warm fire on a cold day. He wanted to close his eyes and just drink it in.

“Your Grace?”

Good lord, he’d actually closed his eyes. “Adam,” he corrected, his eyes wide open as he accepted his teacup and cakes. “Please.”

She smiled, looking a bit bemused, not that he blamed her. “Then I am Georgie. And if I am any judge of things, you will soon meet Lully.”

“Lully? Do you mean your daughter? I thought her name was Charlotte.”

She grinned. “Lilly Charlotte, actually. Only her cousin couldn’t pronounce Lilly. It rather stuck.”

Adam watched her take a delicate bite of her cake. She left a bit of icing caught just on the upper corner of her mouth. Adam couldn’t take his eyes off of it. He couldn’t quash the urge to reach up and brush it away. Or kiss it away….

Napoleon’s knees, he’d been away too long. Ducking his head, he slurped at his tea, scalding the roof of his mouth as he did so until he could rein his less civilized urges back in again. It had been so long since he’d even thought about lust. The multiple surgeries on his leg had mostly seen to that.

Well, evidently he was past all that.

“Adam, are you all right? Is it your leg, or another injury? Would you like to lie down?”

He opened his eyes again, afraid that now he was the one blushing. “No, no. I was just enjoying the tea. I’ve been thinking how these are the small moments a soldier thinks of when he’s lying on the cold ground in Spain.”

Oh, sweet Christ, he was really going to be lost if she didn’t turn that sympathetic gaze somewhere else. It made him want to just lay himself at her feet.

If his leg were more dependable, he’d jump up and pace. He was afraid, though, that he’d end up with his face in her lap, and that wouldn’t promote his intentions here a bit.

“Lully,” he blurted out. “I’m really here for her.”

His words were met with a rather stark silence. “Pardon?”

He nodded, setting down his saucer. “I am actually here to bring her some news.”

Again Georgie tilted her head. “Lully is four, Your Grace. What news could you have to give her?”

This wasn’t going the way he’d planned. He should have believed Jamie from the start. Maybe his reaction to Georgie wouldn’t have knocked him so off-center.

“I need to take her to Scotland.”

Georgie froze. “I beg your pardon?”

He tried closing his eyes again. “She is needed there.”

She was staring at him as if he’d begun to bark like a dog. “In Scotland.”

He nodded, and surrendered to the inevitable. It wouldn’t get any easier with the waiting. “Life has just changed forever for her, Georgie. She is no longer simply a little girl.” A deep breath didn’t help, so he just dove in and opened his eyes again. “She’s a duchess.”

Georgie laughed. “She is no such thing.”

It was pointless to argue.

“Are you feeling perfectly well, Your Grace?” she asked, getting to her feet. “I can call for the local physician. He is old, but….”

He should have known this would be her reaction. “No,” he said, There was no avoiding it. He had to get to his feet as well. “No,” he said, grabbing his cane and hoisting himself up, his knee protesting like an unoiled hinge. “I am not ill. Please sit again so I might.”

She flushed, but she sat. Adam did the same, trying not to wince.

“And please,” he said. “My name is Adam.” He considered picking up his cup again and decided against it. He had a feeling he’d be on his feet again soon. “I was coming to see you anyway. I promise. Not only because I wanted to meet the woman who had stolen Jamie’s heart, but because I made a promise to him.”

“That is lovely.” Her voice didn’t sound like it. “But not to the point.”

He nodded and took another breath. “There is news,” he repeated. “Jamie’s mother has died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She neither sounded nor looked like she meant it. Having known Jamie’s mother well, he couldn’t really blame her.

“How can that concern us?” she asked. “Jamie’s family made certain we knew we were not welcome.”

“Well, since Jamie is…gone, it means that Lully has inherited. I need to take her with me to accept.”

Adam didn’t think you could see fire in the color green. He certainly could now.

“Inherited? Inherited what? Jamie was disowned.”

“You cannot disown a title, Mrs. Grace. Your daughter is now a duchess in her own right.”

She was shaking her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Girls cannot inherit titles. They pass along the males. My father was quite specific about that when he was complaining about his oldest two daughters.”

“Scottish titles can. This one passed from Jamie’s great-uncle to his mother to...well, it would have been Jamie. But now it passes to Jamie’s child. Which is where I come in. It is my duty to take her to verify her title.”

She was up again, glaring down at him. “Try not to be absurd. My daughter is not going anywhere. Certainly not to Scotland. You do realize that it is January, Your Grace.”

“Not Scotland immediately,” he acknowledged, eying his cane and wondering how many times he could get her to sit back down. “I should have made that clear. To London to secure her title, but she will need to travel to the estate in Scotland as soon as it is possible.”

She sat back down with a bit of a thump. “Well, she isn’t going. She is a four year old girl.”

He drew a careful breath, wondering why she should be so adamant. “You do know I am her trustee.”

She stiffened and seemed to grow in stature. “I know this is the first time since Jamie died that you have mentioned it, either in person or letter. We have been dealing quite successfully with Mr. Carson at the bank.”

“I know. But you were here with your brother and safe, and it didn’t seem there was anything I was needed for. And then Jamie’s mother died, and the duchy of Kintyre has passed to your daughter. But she must attend the Chancery Court to make it official.”

It was as if she completely froze. “In that case, she politely declines.”

“She cannot. Her people will suffer if she does not. The duchy will go into abeyance and most of their land given over to sheep, which would uproot all her crofters. I cannot allow that to happen, and so it is my duty to take the duchess home.”

She was glaring now. “She. Is. Four.”

“And as trustee I will act in her stead. But she needs to be there.”

She seemed to glide up to her feet, rising to her full height, which suddenly seemed not so insignificant. Following again to his own feet, Adam wondered suddenly how anyone could possibly think she was forgettable. She was Boedica, Titania, Maeve. He had the oddest feeling she was looking down at him, instead of standing at his shoulder.

And then she closed the conversation.

“No.”

Without another word she turned away and stalked out of the room, slamming the doors behind her with a force that made the walls shake. Ten minutes later Adam was standing out under the front portico waiting for his phaeton to be brought around after a much older man wearing livery ushered him out the front door and slammed it behind him.

Well, he thought, struggling into his driving coat. That went well. Wait until he told her it was about to get even worse.

CHAPTER 2

HE HAD a face that was completely forgettable. At least that was the way Jamie had described him. Only Jamie could have been so ridiculously wry. Adam Marrick, the Duke of Rothray was not, sadly, forgettable. He couldn’t even be dismissed as memorable. Even leaning on his cane like an octogenarian, he radiated power and command. His shoulders alone would have betrayed him, broad, lean, compelling. His body filled his corbeau coat and biscuit inexpressibles like poetry. If Georgie had met him before Jamie, she might have missed the sight of her husband altogether.

And that jaw. You could cut glass with that jaw, she thought, pacing her brother’s library in a brisk circle. Slashing cheekbones, ocean-blue eyes and tumbled mahogany-colored hair that just brushed his collar. Her Jamie had been comfortable-looking, just a little plump with merry blue eyes and a cleft chin. His cousin looked no more like him than Georgie did. Except for the humor in his eyes. While the humor had lasted, anyway.

What was she to do? Oh, she wished Jack and Olivia hadn’t thought it important to spend Christmas with the family. If only there were anybody else she could confide in. Anybody who understood the laws of peerage, anyway. She had so many questions that needed immediate answers.

As she made another circuit, a shaggy gray head lifted from a set of huge paws, the gentle brown eyes tracking her like prey.

“Thank you, Murphy,” Georgie said as if the Irish wolfhound had spoken. “But I need to work this one out myself.”

Lully simply could not go. She was safe here. They both were, well out of the limelight. Well away from her parents, who had done such a thorough job of striking her name from the family Bible while threatening to confiscate her Lully if she didn’t stay out of sight. Not that they truly wanted Lully. But they would rather the girl be controlled under their eyes than leave her to possibly further soil the Wyndham marquessate under Georgie’s.

How Jack put up with them Georgie didn’t know. But she wasn’t about to. And she was definitely not about to put herself in a position to test their threat. Lully was all she had. She was the reason Georgie had survived Jamie’s death.

If the Wyndhams smelled a duchy in the wind, they wouldn’t let Lully go short of pitched battle.

“Are you receiving?” a brisk voice asked from the doorway.

Georgie didn’t stop moving, but she waved her guest in. “Settle someplace. I wouldn’t want to run you over.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Georgie threw a glance at the tall, prim woman who was even now arranging her gray serge dress about her on one of a pair of bloodred

red leather chairs like a dove settling its feathers. It had been one of the greatest blessings of her life when she had come across Hattie Clark at the hiring agency. Hattie’s former employers had retired her without enough stipend to live on. Georgie had seen the iron-gray hair and straight back, the calm hands and the flash of need in those intelligent brown eyes and hired her on the spot. Hattie had become her trusted companion during the years when she had taken the children and hidden them all away.

“Has the servant’s grapevine filled you in yet?” Georgie asked.

Hattie looked up with a tsk. “This lot is reprehensibly lacking in eavesdropping skills.”

Georgie couldn’t help but grin. “Something we should undoubtedly fit into their lessons. There are few benefits greater in having servants than their uncanny ability to suss out and share information.”

Hattie shook her own tidy gray head. “Well, they have much to learn. All I could garner was that we had an actual duke in the house and that you sent him to the roundabout with his tail between his legs. I imagine it’s quite a story.”

Georgie sighed and slowed. Hattie kept her silence until Georgie had finally plopped into the matching chair.

“Is it?”

Georgie closed her eyes. “I am afraid so. It would seem that Jamie’s mother has died.”

“I am sorry.”

“I am not.” Sighing in frustration, Georgie rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “No. That is unkind. Jamie’s mother was not the problem. She was simply too weak to challenge the problem.”

“The Earl.”

“The Earl.”

Who, unfortunately, was still very much alive and hated Georgie far more than Jamie’s mother and sisters had. Far more than even her own parents. She had not only destroyed the advantageous political match the earl had sought for his son, she had encouraged his love of the sea which, to the earl’s mind, sent him to his doom. Georgie had to admit that at least the last crime could be reason enough to resent her. But of course it had even been worse than that.

“The duke is Jamie’s cousin,” she said rather than dwell on old pain. “You know, the one he idolized.”

Hattie gave a small gasp. “Good heavens.”

Georgie cast her a wry look. “So you saw him?”

“My, yes.”

Georgie nodded. Jamie had talked about him, of course. Jamie had grown up in Adam’s shadow and done it happily. He had read all the dispatches that mentioned Adam to Georgie during their brief courtship, leaving behind the impression that Adam Marrick was nothing short of a minor god.

No, Georgie thought. Not a god of any sort. Just a man.

She almost laughed out loud. No. Not just a man. She would have been able to look away from just a man, no matter how handsome. But one look had proven what Jamie had alleged. Adam Marrick truly was everything Jamie had striven to be; honorable, witty, wise and strong.

She needed strong right now.

No she didn’t. She needed him gone and his news with him. And yet, wouldn’t it be lovely to be able to lay her problem in his lap?

Shaking her head, she fought the urge to jump to her feet and resume pacing. She hadn’t realized how much she had absorbed Jamie’s hero worship.

“He has come to tell me that as Jamie is already dead, Lully is his mother’s heir.” She lifted her head and frowned. “Which makes her the new Duchess of Kintyre.”

Hattie blinked. “Great gods.”

Georgie managed a dry smile. “Indeed.”

“They couldn’t be mistaken, I suppose.”

“I imagine that if the earl could have found any legal way to prevent this, he would have taken it. Evidently a Scottish title can easily pass along the female line. Who knew?”

“Merciful heavens.” Hattie heaved a sigh herself. “A duchess. I suppose I shall have to brush up on my acts of obeisance.”

Georgie huffed in frustration. “Don’t you start as well. I told him no.”

“You told who no? The duke?”

Georgie nodded.

“You know you cannot do that, of course.”

Georgie plucked at her skirt. “It was all I could think to do at the moment. It is still all I can think to do.”

“He’ll be back.”

“Yes. Tomorrow. So he informed Williams when he was being given his hat and coat.” Helplessly she looked up at her friend. “What can I do?”

“I don’t suppose there is time to catch a fast boat to Calcutta.”

That at least made Georgie smile. “I hate curry.”

Hattie nodded. “So do I. Too bad. I’m quite certain your friend Lady Diccan could recommend some lovely places to visit.”

“She and Lord Diccan are in Venice with the Lidges, I believe.”

Hattie brightened. “I wouldn’t mind a gondola ride.”

Georgie shook her head. “I have a feeling that even that trip to India would not deter the duke. He mentioned something about the tenants needing Lully in order to prevent some type of disaster.”

Hattie’s humor disappeared. “Then you cannot run away.”

“I cannot let Lully go to London either. Or Scotland. You know that. I can not let any of this happen.”

Hattie was saved from answering by a scratch on the door.

“Come!” Georgie called to have one of the younger nursemaids pop her carroty head around the door.

“Morning, ma’am. Up for a bit of a visit?”

At which point without notice or permission, a small, rather dignified little girl marched into the room as if attending a presentation. Her bright red curls bounced as she walked and her sharp green eyes held serious intent as she ironed the front of her little white pinafore with both hands on the way in. It was all Georgie could do to keep from giggling.

“Do you think she’s known all along about her inheritance?” Hattie asked sotto voce, her own brown eyes sparkling. “For if there was ever a four-year-old duchess, this is the one.”

The minute he spotted the little girl, Murphy hauled himself to his feet with a groan and padded over to stand where Lully could lay her hand on his neck, which was level with her own. All Georgie could think was that this must have been what young Queen Maeve looked like. She also had the feeling that if she told her daughter the news the duke had brought, Lully would simply dip her head in acknowledgement, knowing it was only her due.

Thank heavens for little Jamie and Murphy, who had forced silliness and play upon her like a mandatory meal.

“Curtsy,” the maid whispered.

Lully turned a scowl on her. “I know.” And then, gave her mother and Hattie a wobbly curtsy that almost landed her on her head. “Morning, mama.”

“Good morning, Sprite.”

Finally her baby let loose with a waterfall of giggles. “I’m not a sprite! I’m a girl!”

“I don’t know,” Georgie said with a frown. “A little girl would have already hugged her mama.”

And just like every other time they’d played the game, Lully cast herself into her mama’s arms and peppered her face with small kisses. Georgie held that little heart to hers, laughing and kissing back, tears welling in her eyes. No one would hurt her baby. No one. She had had far too much practice in protecting her own to allow it.

“You squeeze too tight!” Lully protested.

Georgie eased her grasp a little, knowing Lully was right. She felt frantic, suddenly, as if someone would come up and literally rip the little girl from her embrace. As if Jamie’s very handsome, very nice cousin would.

He would not. She would kidnap her child and run if it came to that. She had done it before.

“He doesn’t understand,” she protested, her face against her daughter’s neck where she could catch that little girl scent she loved so much.

“Who, mama?” Lully immediately asked.

Georgie pulled back and brushed the hair back from her little girl’s forehead. “I was speaking to Hattie, sweet. Boring adult business.”

Her little duchess crinkled up her forehead. “Where is Jamie? I want Jamie.”

“What did we say? When does he come?”

Another moue of concentration. “Sat-day.”

“Saturday. Yes. And do you know what day this is?”

Lully shook her head with enough force to send her ribbon sliding over her left eye, which provoked more giggles.

“Today,” her mother said, repositioning the ribbon with tender hands, “is Monday. We have five more whole days until Jamie returns. You must be patient.”

“I shall get presents.”

Georgie gave her a tickle. “Mercenary. Of course you get presents.”

Lully crowed. “Sugarplums!!

Georgie crowed right back. “Books!”

Hattie joined in. “Stockings!”

Lully was giggling. “Ewephants!”

Georgie grinned. “Elephants? Now, how is Uncle Jack to fit an elephant in his carriage? Where will Aunt Olivia and Jamie sit?”

Lully wasn’t deterred in the least. “On top!!”

Impulsively Georgie pulled her little Lully back into her arms for a series of smacking kisses that had the little girl squirming and squealing. It was so hard to stop. She almost felt as if she were storing up the sights and sounds of her child before someone took her away. Before Adam Marrick took her away and gave her to Jamie’s father. Or worse, her own parents.

“Mama!” Lully protested. “Cook has buns.”

Well, Georgie couldn’t argue with an afternoon in the warmth and yeasty comfort of the kitchen with Mrs. Prince. Giving Lully one last smacking kiss, she turned her back towards the grinning nursery maid and gave her a pat on the bottom. “Be good for Mrs. Prince and Sissy, now. I shall see you at tea.”

Lully begrudged her mother a final, perilous curtsy and then ran out, Murphy lumbering right on her heels, to bask in the splendor of Mrs. Prince’s kitchen.

“What am I to do, Hattie?” Georgie asked, her arms unbearably empty of a sudden.

Hattie didn’t take her gaze from the doorway Lully had just disappeared through. “Talk to the duke,” she suggested.

“I cannot. You know I cannot.”

Her friend shrugged. “I have nothing else to offer.”

Georgie sighed. “Neither do I.”

CHAPTER 3

HE CAME BACK, of course. The problem was that he came early and caught her unaware. Georgie had anticipated receiving him back in what Jack had fondly called the Blinding Sun Parlor, dressed in her most austere gown, her hair rigidly controlled into a knot at the back of her neck, her hands resting quietly in her lap, the veritable picture of calm and control.

But the dastard came an hour early when she was still in the garden tumbling about with Lully and Murphy. In fact, he found her on the ground beneath the great dog, with Lully rolling about dissolved into peels of laughter.

“Muwphy won, mama!! Muwphy won!”

“Yes, he did,” Georgie admitted, breathless with her own laughter. And then Murphy gave her a long, wet lick across her face and the both of them dissolved into fresh giggles. Throwing herself atop her mother and dog, Georgie snuggled in for a few extra hugs from her mother and licks from her dog.

“Excuse me….”

Georgie’s laughter stopped and her stomach dropped. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide her baby and call to have one of her footmen show the duke out of her house. Out of her life.

Instead, she sat up. He was standing at the garden gate, as elegantly put together as an Ackerman’s illustration, his curly-brim beaver hat resting against his leg, his cane looking more like a fashion accessory than a necessity, his hair gently tousled by the breeze. And she was near-sprawled on the ground with her skirts tumbled around her legs. She gave them a quick tug over her ankles. It was the best she could do.

“My apologies again,” he said with that horrifically lovely smile that provoked a surprise dimple in his right cheek and butterflies in Georgie’s belly. “There seems to be no one to announce me.”

“Not here,” Georgie agreed. “You might try looking inside. That is usually where you’ll stumble across a footman to announce you.”

“But you are not inside.”

“And you are not scheduled to be here for another hour.”

He bowed. “Rolled up horse, foot and gun. My apologies.”

Reacting to the sharp edge of her mother’s voice, Lully stared at the intruder with alarm. Needing only that, Murphy leapt to his feet and braced, his fur bristling, his lips drawn back. His silence was not reassuring.

“I fear I am not at my fastest, Mrs. Grace,” the duke said, wary eye on the dog. “It would be a reassurance if you could let your protector know he has impressed me sufficiently.”

Gaining her feet with unwieldy moves, Georgie laid her hand on Murphy’s back. “Foighne ort,” she murmured and reached down to give Lully a hand up as well.

Murphy didn’t change his stance, but he relaxed a bit.

Lully brushed the leaves from her skirts and turned to assess the newcomer. “Do we know him, mama?” she asked in her best duchess voice.

“Yes, my love,” Georgie said, still not moving. “He is your papa’s cousin. Your Grace, allow me to present my daughter Lilly Charlotte, Miss Grace. Lully, this is His Grace Adam Marrick, the Duke of Rothray.”

“That is a lot of names,” Lully pronounced in arch tones.

“There are even more,” the duke confided. “I only use them when I’m in parliament.”

She considered that.

“You will give him your best curtsy, please,” Georgie instructed.

Lully tilted her head, still considering the very tall man standing ten feet away framed by her garden gate. Georgie almost smiled. She had often laughed at that look and suggested her daughter not sneer at the peasants, that it was rude. It was refreshing to see her turn it on the duke.

“All right,” Lully finally conceded and dipped a civil curtsy, still little-girl wobbly. Georgie found herself waiting for her daughter to offer her hand to be bowed over.

Obviously the duke was, too. Georgie could see it in the sparkle in his ghostly blue eyes. Instead he gave her daughter a generous society bow and smiled. “I apologize for being a bit early. I finished other business prematurely.”

Georgie knew perfectly well that was a clanker. His entire intention had been to catch her unaware.

“I hope you have already had your luncheon,” she said. “We ate quite a bit ago.”

His smile was knowing. “I did, thank you.”

She nodded. “Come along then, Your Grace,” she said, giving her skirt a final brush as she turned toward the kitchen door.

“Grace?” Lully asked, holding Georgie’s hand and Murphy’s mane with the other. “That’s a funny name for a boy.”

“It means he is a duke, my dear. It is like calling Uncle Jack my lord.”

Lully gave a wise nod of her head. “I don’t call Uncle Jack my lord. I call him Uncle Jack. Cause I am his fav-rite niece.”

“You will still call the duke your grace until he gives you permission.”

Just to make certain the duke would not play any games, Georgie gave him a sharp, warning look. “Bi cúramach,” she murmured to Murphy, who sidled right up alongside Lully and trotted with them.

“Interesting commands,” the duke commented, limping across the shell path.

“Irish,” Georgie informed him. “So that only I and those who trained him know how to guide him.”

The duke nodded his gleaming head. “You told him I am a friend, I hope?”

“No.”

Murphy took up a position between Lully and the duke and ambled along with the little girl as if completely unconcerned. Georgie hoped the duke knew better. Murphy would tear his throat out before letting him touch his charge. Georgie might let him.

Their entrance into the kitchen caused near-chaos as the young staff stumbled all over itself to stand for the duke, knocking into Mrs. Prince, who was pulling a batch of sticky buns from the oven that came perilously close to scattering across the floor.

“Tea in the guest parlor, Mrs. Prince?” Georgie said.

The formidable warship of a woman scowled at the duke for interrupting her kitchen, but nodded.

“C’n I stay here, mama?” Lully asked, eyes lighting as she considered all the sticky buns.

“Maybe later, Sprite. Right now you and I must make ourselves presentable for visitors.”

Lully cast a disgruntled eye at the duke, but followed willingly. With a few terse words Georgie dispatched the duke to the parlor with Tom and Lully up to her room with Hattie before retreating to her own room to change out of her leaf-and-grass decorated work gown. It took some effort, but she talked herself away from making the duke wait as long as possible, as any high-fashioned young lady would be expected to do. She needed this confrontation over with. So she had Maisy help her into a simple rose day gown with high neck and long sleeves to combat the persistent winter chill. A few extra pins in her hair to control it, and she was on her way back downstairs. If a person didn’t know her, they wouldn’t realize that her heart was knocking against her ribs and her palms damp with fear.

The minute young Tom saw her on the stairs, he disappeared behind the green baize door to alert the staff. Georgie waited long enough for Hattie to place Lully back in her care, the little girl tidy and sweet in a deep blue dress edged with Lully’s favorite lace at the cuffs and hem. Taking her mother’s hand, she progressed down the steps like a deb attending her own ball, if that deb came with a very large shadow that looked like an Irish greyhound.

The duke struggled to his feet as they came through the parlor door and made his bow. Georgie led Lully in a return curtsy and pointed Murphy to the corner of the room.

“Chosaint,” she murmured. The dog gave her a long look, as if to make sure, and then lumbered over and eased down, his attention firmly on Lully, even when he dropped his head into his arms.

The duke resettled himself as well and laid his cane down. Lully followed her mother to the settee and took up her seat alongside, arranging her skirts as if she were having tea with the queen. Georgie almost smiled. Hattie was right. Lully might have been born for the news the duke had brought.

“I am pw….pleased to meet you, Grace,” Lully said with a regal little nod, her feet kicking a bit against the front of the settee.

“I as well, Miss Lully,” the duke acknowledged, his features suitably composed. Grace could see the humor lurking in those seawater eyes, though. “I would consider it an honor if you would call me Cousin Adam, however.”

Lully shot her mother a questioning glance. Georgie nodded. So Lully nodded to the duke. “I will.”

“Your mama is correct,” he said. “I am your papa’s cousin. We were very close as children.”

“Like Jamie and me.” Georgie gave a definite nod.

“Just like Jamie and you. Your papa wrote me often of you when he was on his ship. He was ever so proud of you.”

Lully tipped her head again, considering. “He never met me.”

“Oh, but he had the miniature your mama sent him.” Brightening, he reached into an inside pocket. “In fact, he sent it to me so I might see how beautiful you were.”

Georgie felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. That was where Lully’s portrait had gone? She had thought it had been buried with Jamie at sea, his last link to his small family. He had given it away?

Had he thought so little of it, or her that he would pass along the last Christmas present he had received from her, the one she had paid for with her herbs and tatting?

Of course, he hadn’t known it would be his last Christmas present, had he? She looked away, battling the harsh sting of tears as she heard the snick of the latch as the duke opened the small oval case Georgie knew so well. She prayed he would not need any response from her. She wouldn’t manage it without disgracing herself.

“I’m a baby!” she heard and turned to see Lully standing over by the duke’s chair peering down at the open miniature in his hand.

“Indeed you were,” he said, his hand light on her shoulder. “He told me that this was your christening dress that your mama and your aunt stitched just for you, and that he hoped you would be able to one day give it to your little girl.”

Was he doing this on purpose? Georgie wondered, hanging onto her composure by a thread. Did he mean to hurt her? If he had, he couldn’t have done it any better. She had her hands wrapped so tightly together that her fingers were dumb from pressure.

She was called to account when she heard a low whine from the corner and realized that Murphy was sensing her distress. She immediately smiled to calm him. “Fuist, Murphy. Socraigh.”

Couldn’t Jamie have told her how he felt about Lully’s christening gown? He had told his cousin. What else had he shared he’d never shared with her? Suddenly she felt ravenous for information. For reassurance, even. Something that could infuse a bit of color into her memories of her husband. No matter what she did, his face was beginning to fade in her memory, and that wasn’t right.

It wasn’t her turn, though. It was Lully’s, who was giggling up at the duke and leaning into his leg as if she had known him all her life, something Lully rarely did. Excellent, Georgie thought, fighting against a sour scowl. Jealousy as well. By the time this man went home he’d be lucky if she didn't call him with a pirate.

It was when Murphy lifted his shaggy head again that Georgie realized that Lully was beginning to exhibit signs of impatience. It wouldn’t be fair to keep her constrained in the parlor any longer, Georgie thought, ignoring the murmur of conscience that suggested that her motives might not be so pure.

“Lully,” she said, gently when there was a pause in her excited chatter. “Would you be kind and give the duke another of your excellent curtsies? I believe Miss Hattie is waiting for you in the kitchen.”

Lully perked right back up. “It is time for our nature walk,” she told Adam. “We found nests. They’re empty now.” She frowned down at his cane. “I’m sorry you cannot come.”

Georgie flushed in embarrassment, but Adam smiled. “Maybe later when the nests are full my leg will allow me longer walks. May I come back then?”

Lully gave him a solemn nod. Hopping off the couch, she presented her little hand. “Don’t w--rise,” she instructed.

Adam bent over her hand, even seated, using admirable solemnity. “Thank you. I hope to see you soon.”

Lully’s composure broke and she bestowed one of those quicksilver giggles on him. “Bring pwesents.”

And then before Georgie could chastise her, she curtsied again and was off like a chased kit, her little heels clacking across the corridor parquet. Giving another groan of protest, Murphy hauled himself upright and loped after her.

“She is delicious,” Adam said, watching after. “Jamie would have loved her.”

Again he blindsided Georgie. She battled back fresh tears and nodded. “Yes. They were of a piece, those two.”

He slowly shook his head. “That hair…”

Her smile was more than a bit watery. “There was only ever one person with the same color, wasn’t there?”

His smile was just as watery. Oddly, it made her feel better. She had had no one to share memories of Jamie for so long.

They were both given a bit of a break as they received the staff with another tea service. Georgie focused on once again maintaining her composure as she watched their perilous dance with the heavy silver and delicate china. Tom was pale and had a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he balanced the tea service. Maisy had her lower lip caught between her teeth, and Mary wasn’t breathing at all. God bless them. They looked so much better than when she had first been introduced. Healthier, calmer, altogether less feral. She only wished that the duke could appreciate that rather than fear the ungainly ballet they conducted while serving.

At last, though, all was settled, her staff praised with sincere pride, and Georgie was pouring a bit of cream into the duke’s tea.

“Thank you for your patience,” she said, handing over the delicate cup.

His grin was a bit relieved. “I believe you are correct. They will make exemplary servants with a few more years under their belts. I think, however, that my Christmas gift to you will be a rolling tea cart.”

She grinned. “Not all homes will have a cart. So we practice without. It is more of an adventure.”

For a long few moments the two of them focused on Mrs. Prince’s delicious pastries. Usually Georgie could divorce herself from any other worries when she was savoring such fare. Today her heart simply wasn’t in it. She only had the time it would take to finish a cake before she had to face what had brought the duke here.

It simply wasn’t fair. She had finally felt safe. After three years spent in exile in Cornwall where she and the children couldn’t be found, she had been able to settle into a home. Not her home. She would probably never have a home now. Jamie’s pension was too small, and there was no way any of the parents would support her independence. So Jack had taken her in, her and Lully, their little apartment tucked up in the east wing of the tidy red brick Queen Anne home Jack had inherited from their grandmother.

Georgie and Jamie should have inherited his grandmother’s estate, a lovely ten room cottage near Portsmouth where Jamie could see the sea. That dream had been dashed, of course. His parents saw no reason to reward her for destroying their plans.

But she was safe here at Oak Haven. She helped manage the house for Jack and Olivia, especially when they were away, and Lully had her cousin to share lessons, kitchen treats and bedtime stories. No more running. No more hiding. No fear that Georgie would turn the corner to see a threat coming her way.

Of all the times to consider herself safe. The duke—Adam—was the greatest threat of all.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she heard and briefly closed her eyes.

Of course he had seen her reaction to the miniature. “It matters not.”

“But it does.”

She wanted him to say more, to say anything so she didn’t have to. She finally looked over to see sincere concern in his eyes.

“When did Jamie give you the miniature?” she asked.

“He didn’t.” He looked up, as if the plaster acanthus leaves that ringed the ceiling were the most fascinating thing in Dorset. “The Navy did. Well. They sent it to his parents. His father gave it to me.”

She nodded, oddly relieved. She felt even better when Adam reached inside his coat and pulled the miniature out. Taking one last look at it, he handed it over to her.

“Oh, no,” she protested instinctively, hand out.

His smile was kind. “No. It belongs to you. I have my own memories of him.”

Georgie realized her hand was shaking as she reached out to take it, the very last thing she would receive from her Jamie.

“He did write about it,” Adam said. “He was so very proud of having such a pretty little girl.”

Georgie clutched the little felt oval in her hand. “And he never saw her.”

There was a pause that she couldn’t fill, a silence she and Adam shared that was thick with unfallen tears.

“How long did you have together?” Adam asked.

She smiled, thinking about their hubris. They had wasted days on silly things, planning the house they would one day have, making lists of places they would visit, designing the boat Jamie would one day own to carry them to exotic places.

“Four months.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded like it. But then, Georgie had never doubted that Jamie’s cousin was a kind man. Jamie truly had worshiped him.

“I as well, Your Grace.”

He set down his cup and struggled to his feet. Georgie’s heart dropped. So. It was time to get down to business. She set down her own cup, but found she couldn’t quite make it to her feet as well. Instead she tucked the miniature into her pocket.

“Adam,” he corrected with a gentle smile as he retrieved his cane. “It would look ridiculous if you called your cousin ‘your grace.’”

“Yes, of course….Adam.”

Georgie was setting down her own cup when she was distracted by the sound of giggles. She turned to the windows to see Lully leaping about the back garden in her favorite bright red dress she insisted made her a robin. Murphy was seated by the herb corner, and Hattie just tying the ribbons on her bonnet by the arbor. Georgie didn’t realize she was smiling until the duke commented on it.

“I see the aforementioned walk is about to commence,” he said with his own smile.

She nodded, soaking in the sight of her baby like sunlight.

“That’s quite a dog,” he said.

“Murphy is actually quite a darling,” she said, dispatching her cup. “As long as you do not try to interfere with Lully or Jamie, anyway.”

Just then the dog in question, pressed his nose against the glass. Beside him Lully gave a dignified little wave, a gleaming smile, and then turned to run after Hattie, who was already through the garden gate.

Adam waved back. “Our little duchess is quite magnificent.”

Georgie came to abrupt attention and turned on him. “Please. Do not refer to her like that. Ever.”

“Why not?” he asked, setting the cup down. “It is who she is.”

Bile rose up in her throat. “As I said, Your….Adam. She is only a very little girl.”

“With people who depend on her.”

“And trustees to see to those people until she is old enough to be involved.”

“Only once she is invested. Then we may act for her.”

“You act for her now. Well, Mr. Carson does.”

“Not as duchess. This is an entirely different level of involvement, Mrs. Grace.”

“Not Mrs. Grace, please.”

His one eyebrow rose. “Well, I cannot call you Jamie’s wife, even though that is how I think of you.”

She sighed. “Georgie will do perfectly fine. My daughter is Lully. Or Lilly. Or Lilly Charlotte. I will set Murphy on you if you spread it around that she should be called Her Grace. It would destroy her life.”

She had been set to move on. He stopped her with two words.

“Her life?”

Briefly she closed her eyes. “Our lives, then. The locals see her as Gracechurch’s niece, no more, no less. You know perfectly well from your own experience that there is a change in how people deal with you when they find out you hold such a lofty title. A separation appears, a caution. A self-imposed artificiality from the people she has known as friends and neighbors her whole life. Think of what that would do to the little girl you just met. Please. Do not hurt my child.”

“Or you’ll sic Murphy on me.”

She considered him for a moment, hoping he believed her. “Do not think I won’t, if it comes to that. And do not be misled by his rather ungainly appearance. Murphy will follow my every command without hesitation. And he is quite an athletic animal.”

Adam all but reared back. “You are quite serious, aren’t you?”

“You’ve been to war, sir. I have as well, although of a much different type. My cousin did his best to murder young Jamie and destroy my family. I will no more let you do it than I did him.”

“Murder your nephew?”

“Destroy my family.”

For another long moment, he considered her. “I don’t mean to take her away from you.”

“But you mean to take her away from here, where she is safe.”

As if fate had simply been waiting for that boast, suddenly Georgie heard Murphy. He wasn’t barking as if he played. It was his attack bark. Then she heard a scream. Not even noticing that she knocked the tray over, spilling tea and china over the rug, she was on her feet running for the back of the house

“Stop!” the duke yelled, struggling to his feet. “Wait!”

She neither stopped nor waited.

CHAPTER 4

BY THE TIME Georgie made it through the kitchen, half her staff was on her heels, cook with a cleaver, the maids with brooms and Tom with a blunderbuss Georgie had no idea he had. She lifted her skirts and dragged out the knife she had sheathed to her thigh on the run, a skill she had needed before. Murphy was still barking, that hair-raising, deep-chested cacophony that terrified her. Hattie was still screaming at the top of her lungs, more as an alert to others, Georgie knew, then from fear.

Georgie saw Lully’s coat first, that bright splash of red laying on the ground. They had made it almost to the wall by the wood on their walk. Georgie’s heart climbed right up her throat until she saw her little girl climb back to her feet. Hattie was beating someone over the head with her umbrella, and Murphy was shaking that someone like a rag doll, someone trying his hardest to reach the wall.

“Shealbhú go tapa!” Georgie called.

Immediately Murphy sat back, the man’s leg firmly in his mouth. The intruder wasn’t going anywhere. He was too busy screaming himself and trying to ward off Hattie’s final blows, his arms over his head. From the direction of the stables Georgie could hear reinforcements trundling her way.

She could barely breathe by the time she reached the little group. Her first priority was to grab hold of Lully and make sure she was safe. She did it as soon as she re sheathed her knife.

“He tried to nab her!” Hattie cried, giving the man’s other leg a kick for good measure as Georgie clutched her little girl to her. “Right out of my hand!”

Murphy growled and shook that leg, setting up another whimper of pain from the man. Georgie could almost feel sorry for him. She saw that blood stained his leg.

“I kicked him too, mama!” Georgie announced, trying to pull from her mother’s arms to deliver another blow.

Georgie held on, just in case. “I believe Murphy has this well in hand, my heart. Stay here with Hattie, please. I must speak to the man.”

She had only taken two steps when the rest of her staff arrived, yelling and threatening and bristling with various weapons. Georgie held them all off.

“Thank you so much,” she said, handing Lully into Hattie’s care. “If you’ll wait a minute until I can find out what is going on.”

But when she turned the kidnapper over, it was to receive another unpleasant surprise.

“Jem? Jem Collins?!”

The young son of her parents’ head groom tried to move, but subsided quickly with Murphy’s renewed growl. “Miss,” the boy pleaded. “My leg. I fear it’s broke.”

“Éasca as,” she murmured. “Do not move, Jem, or it will go worse for you.”

Murphy gave her a doleful look but sat back, the leg freed.

“Balach cróga,” she murmured the praise with a smile, ruffling the dog’s head. Then she simply pointed to Lully and the dog walked over to stand right by her.

“Now then, Jem Collins,” Georgie said, hands on hips. “What is this about?”

By now the boy was weeping outright. If she remembered, he was all of about eighteen, a good worker and as upright as an oak. She simply couldn’t understand.

“He told me….he….said that me dad would be...turned out without...reference...” He hiccuped and swiped his face with his sleeve.

“Sit up, Jem,” she said.

He did, his face down, his shoulders still shaking with suppressed sobs. Georgy could feel Adam coming to a halt behind her. She almost expected him to try to take over, but he didn’t.

“Who told you that?” she asked Jem.

Jem gave her a terrified look, but couldn’t hold her gaze. The minute he looked away, she knew. She thought she might be sick. The Marquess of Wyndham had told him that. Her father.

“But that’s absurd,” she protested. “Why would my father kidnap my child, when he would just be bringing her back to the Abbey when Jack and Olivia are there?”

She was met with another stricken silence. Georgie couldn’t breathe. She simply could not…

“You were working with someone else?” Adam asked behind her.

Jem nodded. “Carriage up by the lane. They’re to wait for me.”

Georgie didn’t move. “I see.”

She felt Adam shift, as if working up to another question. Casting a quick warning look over her shoulder, she saw him nod to her, acknowledging her authority. It was all she could do to maintain her composure. Forcing herself to calm so she didn’t further frighten Lully, she crouched before her daughter.

“Well, Sprite,” she said. “You have had an adventure. I need you to do me a big favor now. Will you take Miss Hattie up to the nursery? She has had a severe fright, you know. She thought she had lost you. You were both very brave. I imagine this man will never think to tackle two such heroines again. But Miss Hattie needs a cup of tea. I need to see to Jem here, and then I will be up, all right?”

“And Murphy? He was ‘mazing!”

“He was indeed. We shall have cook find him an excellent bone. But I need to borrow him for a few minutes.”

“We will at that,” she heard from behind her in Mrs. Prince’s gruff tones.

The tableau held until Lully, hand clutched in Hattie’s, cleared the garden gate. Left behind, Murphy whined, but a hand on his head settled him. Then, pulling another calming breath, Georgie turned back to business.

“Can I be of some help?” the duke asked.

“Yes, please,” she said, attention still on Jem. “Come with me on my errand. Young Tom, I am not going to ask where you got yon blunderbuss. Is it loaded?”

“It is, ma’am.”

“Then please hand it to Peter Miller for the moment. Peter, I need you and one other person to sneak up on that carriage and hold it til we can get there, please.”

Peter Miller, Jack’s bluff, white-haired and broad-shouldered stableman, gathered the blunderbuss into his meaty hands. “My pleasure, ma’am.”

He pointed to another groom and off the two melted into the trees in the direction of the village lane. Georgy battled an overwhelming urge to clutch the duke’s hand for support, reassurance. The next question she must ask was the most difficult she thought she ever would.

“You were not to bring Lully back to Wyndham Abbey, Jem,” she said. “Were you?”

He began to weep again. “I’m that sorry, miss.”

“It’s all right. It is not your fault. Where were you to go?”

“I don’t know that, just that another coach was to be waiting somewhere on the North Road near Grantham.”

Wyndham Abbey was situated in Gloucestershire, nowhere near the North Road, certainly not as far north as Grantham. Georgie felt her knees all but give way. Before she could completely crumple, she felt Adam’s hand under her elbow, surreptitiously holding her up. He understood just as well as she what Jem’s words meant.

“Not to the continent, anyway,” he murmured.

“Of course not. They might need to recover her from whatever hell they’d planned for her if they need to wield her power. Oh, dear God...”

She could not collapse. Not until she handled this. She briefly closed her eyes, pulling her tattered poise around her. She would never be able to tell Adam what the support of his hand meant.

“Jem,” she said, “you cannot go back there. You know that. You would be welcome here, if you like.”

Her staff immediately objected. She raised a hand. “His family was threatened. I will not have Jem punished for being put in an untenable position by his lord.”

That quickly the protest died. Each of her staff understood the inequities of power.

“Please take Jem in where Mrs. Prince can see to his leg. If you think it is needed, Mrs. Prince, please call for the surgeon. I would appreciate it if two grooms came with us, and the rest remained in the manor house at least until we return.” She briefly smiled at the nervous movement around her. “I am quite certain the maids will not mind a bit of mud on the tiles. Now then, John Coachman, please ready the curricle. The duke and I have a small trip to take.”

“Village lane, I’m thinkin’?” the coachman posited with a gleam in his old eye.

“Village lane,” she agreed.

The preparations took mere minutes before two of Jack’s prime bays were hooked up to the curricle and Georgie and Adam seated behind John Coachman. One whistle brought Murphy up to set himself alongside the driver, head up, tongue out. John flicked the whip, and the team took off at a fast trot down the drive, followed by the grooms on Jack’s sturdiest hacks. Georgie hadn’t asked, but each also carried a shotgun.

Georgie jumped a bit when she felt a hand wrap around hers. The duke was smiling down at her. “Here I arrived believing you needed the strong arm of a duke to deal with the threat against Lully. You don’t, do you?”

She drew in a ragged breath. “Come see me in about thirty minutes.”

He gave her hand a companionable squeeze that felt to her like the greatest praise and then seemed to forget to let go. Georgie tried her very best not to contemplate exactly what her father’s actions meant. She much preferred to focus on the guilty pleasure that warm, strong hand afforded. It had been so long since she had had that kind of comfort. She could come to rely on it, she thought.

It took fifteen minutes to make their way back to the main lane into the local village. Georgie didn’t have to search for the carriage. It stood still in the middle of the road, not only Peter Miller and Tim the groom standing to one side, but more than a few villagers milling about in front of the placid horses.

John Coachman drew up behind and stopped, tying off the reins before helping Georgie and Adam down. The grooms swung down and covered the first coach. Murphy waited patiently for them in the verge.

“Bi cúramach,” Georgie commanded and took hold of Murphy’s collar.

As the three approached the carriage the crowd parted, many offering nods and tips of the hat to Georgie. She returned the acknowledgement, but never turned away from the two men sitting up front. As she suspected, the two men also worked for the marquess, one the game keeper the other a general dogsbody used for heavy lifting.

“Dick Walters,” she addressed the surly-looking game keeper. “I am not going to waste my time accusing you of trying to kidnap my child and listening to your pleas of innocence. I am letting you return to Wyndham Abbey for one reason, so you may deliver a message to my father. First, if I were you I would hold very still. Murphy, is cumhneach le.” Murphy leapt up to the driver’s seat and sniffed both occupants. Tim flinched back, but froze when Murphy leaned in and growled.

“Wouldna move if I was you,” one of the villagers warned. “That lad has some fierce teeth.”

“He is correct,” Georgie agreed. “Murphy here has already dispatched with Jem. Jem will live, but will undoubtedly need a surgeon. As for you two--” Murphy leapt back down and sat docilely at Georgie’s side to have his head scratched. “Murphy now knows who you are. If you are found within a a hundred yards of him, he will know and attack you. And he is never out of my daughter’s sight. When you return to the Abbey, please feel free to tell the marquess that his plan went terribly awry and will again if he tries. Not only that, but tell him that I have items of his and the marchioness’s that I will show to Murphy so he knows their scent. If they interfere with my daughter again, I will not hesitate to set Murphy on them as well. Are you very clear?”

The gamekeeper glared at her with that look that betrayed his confidence that no woman could better him.

So Georgie smiled. “If truth be known, I’d like to see you try. I was charitable to Jem and pulled Murphy off. I will not be to you. Now go bring this news back to the marquess. And Dick. I will tell my brother of your part in this so he knows when he ascends to the title.”

At this point, the duke turned towards her. “May I add my own word, Lady Georgina?”

Georgina bestowed a huge smile on him. “I would be delighted, Your Grace.”

That definitely got the men’s attention. Half the villagers yanked their hats from their heads.

“Yes,” Adam said complacently. “You heard right. I have the honor of being the Duke of Rothray, which means I can easily make sure you vanish so thoroughly your parents won’t remember they had you. So take the lady’s warning to heart. Because if any harm comes to her child, you will be punished for it, whether you were involved or not. And if her beast here doesn’t destroy you, I will.”

“We’ll be happy to help, y’r lordship!” one of the villagers piped up. “Yon little girl is one of ours.”

Adam turned a smiling bow on him and all the smiling villagers.

“Now,” Georgie said. “Both of you best be going before I change my mind and give Murphy here a treat.”

At the subtle flick of her finger no one else saw, Murphy let loose with another unnerving growl. Dick gathered the reins.

“One final question,” Georgie spoke up before she lost her nerve. “Where were you to take her?”

Clem’s expression was pure malice. “Hopkins Home for the Insane. Yorkshire.”

Adam’s hand was back under her elbow, keeping her upright. Murphy wasn’t the only one who growled as the gamekeeper whipped up the horses and lumbered off. Sweet Jesus, Georgie thought. Sweet suffering Jesus. She knew her parents hated her. But that they could do that to a baby, no matter the reason. Their own grandchild. It was impossible. It had to be impossible.

“I may have to kill him myself,” she muttered, her head down, her stomach roiling with fury and grief.

“Happy to help,” Adam assured her. “Do you really have items of theirs Murphy can scent?”

She snorted. “Of course not.”

“Missus Grace?” one of the villagers spoke up.

Georgie lifted her eyes to see Mr. Jenson the butcher frowning at her. “We’ll keep an eye out too, My Lady. Nobody’ll take that child.”

Tears welled again, hot and bitter. But she saw the rest of them nodding and smiled. “I am blessed to have you all as neighbors. Now, I believe it is about time for tea.”

“We just had tea,” the duke reminded her.

“In that case,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Brandy.”

John Coachman helped them back into the curricle and waited for Murphy to reclaim his seat and the grooms to mount before turning the vehicle about. Georgie clasped her hands in her lap, her fingers white from the strain. She could feel the trembling set in. She wasn’t unfamiliar with it. When her cousin Gervaise had tried to kill Jamie, she had reacted much the same way. Cool and collected until the danger had passed, only to fall apart in the middle of the kitchen, much to Mrs. Prince’s astonishment. It had taken four glasses of sherry and three slices of gingerbread to calm her.

She had a feeling that today four glasses would just be a start.

Adam tried to lay his hand atop hers.

“Don’t,” she snapped, rearing back.

He pulled away, obviously surprised.

“I apologize,” Georgie said, her voice thinning out with the building tears. “I don’t think I can maintain my composure if you offer comfort right this minute.”

She knew he was watching her like a mad horse, just waiting for her to kick out. She didn’t think she cared. As long as he didn’t touch her, she could hold off the storm. And she had to do that until she saw Lully and reassured her everything was all right.

And then she needed to speak with the duke and put all this nonsense to rest.

CHAPTER 5

LULLY, it turned out, was in far better condition than her mother. She and Hattie were ensconced in the green and yellow nursery having bread and butter with her dolls, whom Lully was regaling with the story of the bad man who had been vanquished by brave Lully, monstrous Murphy and Hattie’s ferocious umbrella. Georgie managed a smile. By the time young Jamie came home, it would be an epic poem filled with swords and dragons.

Georgie left Murphy there, happily dozing in the corner with the bone Mrs. Prince had awarded him like a heroic soldier, and went to change her dress yet again. When she’d walked back in the house Mrs. Prince had pointed out the blood on her skirt.

“Ned?” Georgie asked her.

“He’ll limp for a while,” Mrs. Prince had said, “that’s f’r sure. But he’ll mend. He’s a good boy, I’m thinking. An evil deed to force him to this.”

“Yes,” Georgie agreed, her chest tightening another degree. “An evil deed.”

By the time she walked into Jack’s library where the brandy was kept she’d almost forgotten that the duke waited for her. All she could think of was the soothing tonic that also awaited her. She didn’t enjoy spirits. But right now she positively yearned for the burn of the liquor down her throat. She desperately needed not only the distraction, but the harsh comfort.

She walked in to see Adam turn from the decanters, two snifters in his hands. “I took you at your word,” he said with a gentle smile. “How is our brave girl?”

Georgie couldn’t imagine any man looking more dear at that moment. She managed another smile for him. “Quite full of herself for kicking young Ned when he tried to grab her. She has decided she should join the army when she is old enough.”

Adam laughed as he limped toward her. “I pity whichever enemy she faces.”

Georgie nodded. “I pity the army she joins.”

Her chest hurt. She laid a hand against her breastbone, as if she could help ease the growing tightness. Adam handed a brandy to her, but she found herself just staring at it, as if she couldn’t make out what it was.

“Georgie?”

She opened her mouth, then shook her head. Oh, no, she thought, breathing fast to dispel those hateful tears building behind her ribs. Not now. Not in front of him. She reached for the brandy and downed it in one swallow. She didn’t even choke. That fire exploded inside her and eased the pain in her chest a bit.

She saw the growing alarm on the duke’s face and tried to smile. Instead she laughed, except it sounded like a sob. She pushed her fist against her mouth, as if she could force it back in, but it happened again, and then again, until she was shuddering and the tears splashed her arms and she dropped the snifter to the floor where it rolled across the parquet.

Adam must have set his own snifter down, because suddenly his arms were around her,

holding her up, holding her against him, holding her safe as she dissolved into the most hideous, mortifying sobs she had ever spent.

She had no idea how long she wept, only that she thoroughly soaked Adam’s waistcoat and creased his coat where she clutched at it to hold herself up. She just knew that for the first time since her Jamie had gone to sea, she felt safe with a man. Protected. And yes, comforted. Just the steady thud of his heart against her ear soothed her, his hand rubbing her back, his murmurs in her ear.

“Fuist,” he finally whispered, his hand holding her head to his chest. “Tá sé ceart go leor.”

Still gasping with sobs, she pulled her head back. “’It’s all right?’ You...know Irish?!”

His smile was gentle as dawn. “It helps to know what your Irish troops are saying about you.”

Her chuckle was very watery, but she found she could smile. She was still trembling like a blancmange, and she felt the chasm of what her father had done. Tried to do. Meant to do. But she felt a little calmer.

And then she looked into those sea-blue eyes. Piercing, compelling, like wells in a desert. She couldn’t seem to look away. She couldn’t breathe correctly. It was as if the world stood still and waited.

Before she could think or pull away or step closer, he cupped her face in his hands and drew her back to him. For a moment, he just brushed away the tears that still tracked her cheeks, his eyes soft and kind. Then, without real intention, as if it was simply meant to be, Georgie found herself being kissed.

And oh, what a kiss. Her Jamie had been all bright energy and boyish enthusiasm. He would buss her as if she were running past him. This man was deliberate, gentle, suggestive. His mouth was soft, inviting, clever, coaxing her to open to him until she couldn’t seem to think or protest. She felt his fingers stroke her cheek and heard the quickening of his breath. She didn’t know what she felt, except that somehow this seemed right. It seemed inevitable. It seemed to fill her with a sweet fire that warmed her far more than the brandy. She couldn’t even think to wrap her own arms around him. She could only stand where she was, lost in a kiss.

When he finally pulled away, she saw that his pupils were large and black, that he looked as surprised as she felt. She wondered if his insides felt as liquid, as warm and unsettled.

She knew she should say something. The only thing she managed was an astonished, “Oh.”

His smile was a bit rueful, a bit hesitant. “Exactly.” His voice was rough, as if emotion had scored it. “Oh. I should apologize, I’m sure. But...I very much fear I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you smile. Do you mind?”

And oddly, she found that she didn’t. Not at all. She wanted to reach up and touch her lips to see if they were still that warm. She wanted to melt back into his embrace, this man she’d known only by word and deed almost as long as she’d known her Jamie. Should it be such a surprise that after the way Jamie had glorified him she should react so sharply to him?

Oh, Jamie, she thought, unable to look away, even when Adam lifted a finger to once again stroke her cheek. This is all your fault. It almost made her smile to think that Jamie would have approved.

“Feel a little better?” he asked, his voice softened.

She took a deep, uneven breath. “Less...frantic,” she admitted, finally finding the strength to ease back out of his arms. “The question is, what do I do now?”

“About me?”

She scowled at him, even seeing the glint of humor in his eyes. “Everything is not about you. My father tried to kidnap my child.”

She abruptly sat in the chair she’d vacated earlier. “He tried to kidnap my child,” she repeated in dread. “How did he find out so soon? I have to believe it was because of your news. He has been perfectly happy to leave us alone til now.”

Adam carefully bent to retrieve the snifter and collect his own on the way back to the drinks table. “What do you mean, he left you alone?”

She gave a small wave of her hand. “I embarrass him. He has been trying to pull me back under his control ever since I married Jamie instead of the man my father wanted. But this…”

“I’m sorry,” Adam said, and truly sounded like it. “It might be my fault.”

She caught her breath.“How?”

He refilled the snifters and returned to hand one to her. “I had to find you,” he said, sitting across from her. “Jamie’s family had no idea where you were. I went to yours.”

He reached out his free hand and laid it on hers, just that. Georgie found herself momentarily speechless. Not from Adam’s admission. From his instinctive gesture of comfort. Her skin seemed to glow, not only where his hand covered it, but all over, down to her very toes. She realized, suddenly, that she wanted to be back in his arms. She wanted to feel his heat and strength and calm. Oh, Lord. Her life was getting complicated again. What was worse, she could almost feel Jamie smile at her reaction to his favorite cousin.

She had no time for this.

Instinctively setting the brandy down, she got to her feet. She needed to move. She needed….

“Come to London with me,” he said, standing in one place as she paced. “We can protect her there.”

She scowled at him. “Better than those villagers and the staff here? I don’t believe so. In fact I know so. Any more strangers will be noted and stopped. How do you spot a stranger in London?”

“So you’re going to just hide here and hope for the best?”

“Yes...” she stopped suddenly, closed her eyes. The brandy was flooding her with warmth. It was also slowing the frantic pace of her brain. “No.” She wanted to weep again. “If he thinks I am trying to ignore him, he will think he has the upper hand. He’ll simply try again. He kept trying to take Jamie until Jack returned home and threatened him.”

“Take Jamie?” Adam echoed. “Good heavens, you have been busy. I suspect the Peninsula was quieter the last few years.”

She allowed him a smile. “I certainly could have used some artillery.”

She made it back to her chair and sank into it, the brandy forgotten.

“Oh, God,” she said, hearing how hollow her own voice was. “I have to confront him.”

Adam sat across from her. “You aren’t doing it alone anymore. You aren’t powerless.”

She scowled. “He is a marquess.”

Adam grinned. “And I am a duke. Let me help. I might as well get some enjoyment out of this benighted title.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not all strawberry leaves and groveling servants, I take it?”

His scowl grew. “The last duke was a financial idiot. It’s not that he was poor. But his finances are in such a muddle it will take years to figure them out.”

Georgie waved her glass at him. “Bring them here. I have an odd talent for that kind of thing.”

“I have a better idea. Come with me.”

She didn’t even bother to shake her head. The tears were building again. She had no other choice. She had to travel to the Abbey and confront her father. And when she did, it would provoke the final break not only between them, but between him and her brother, and she didn’t want that. She simply wanted to be left alone with her little girl here where she was finally settled.

And yet, if she didn’t act, her father would simply try again. He would send her baby to an institution for the insane.

Down went the brandy again. Up went Georgie. “He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t.”

She caught Adam just as he was grabbing for his cane. “Stop. If you try and rise every time I do you’ll be crippled for life. I move about when I’m distracted. You bear no responsibility for keeping me company.”

He got to his feet anyway. “But I want to.”

She tilted her head. “Why?”

His smile was a rueful thing of beauty, and Georgie couldn’t look away.

“We are in this together, Georgie,” he said, reclaiming her hand. “I cannot in all good conscience abandon Lully until her inheritance is safely secured and her people cared for. I will not abandon you while your father persists in this medieval behavior of his.”

There it was again, she thought, the tears curdling back into pain. She had to tell him. Certainly before her father did.

“Adam...”

“In fact, I have an idea how I can not only help you, but you can help me,” he said, reaching out to stroke his fingers along her cheek. He so distracted her that she almost didn’t hear what came next.

“Marry me.”

She knew she should say something. She knew he’d said something important. She couldn’t seem to get past the look of surprise in his water blue eyes.

Suddenly his words sank in. Her heart stumbled around like a drunk lord.

“Did you really mean to say that?” she found herself asking.

His grin was bright. “Actually, yes.” Reaching down, he claimed her other hand as well. “Think of it. I could protect Lully even when I’m not close by. My title alone will guard her. And you. After all, who is going to question a duke about his daughter? Who better to represent her than a man of the same status? There aren’t a lot of us out there, you know. As we have already established, I outrank your father.”

The pain swamped her, the shame. The futility. He had no idea that he was holding her up when she felt his words would shatter her.

“What a lovely offer to make,” she said, her voice as thin as her courage. “But I couldn’t think of imposing on you that way. And I believe I need to sit again.”

He sat her down and handed her the brandy again before sitting himself.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized, seeing the reflexive pain in his eyes as he bent his knees. “I promise to stay in one place.”

“Do not consider it,” he said, settling once again.

How could she feel worse? She did, staring into her glass as if the answer to her dilemma was swimming about before her. She fought back another bout of tears, because she didn’t deserve them. She should have ended this a long time ago. She should have shown the same courage she had when she’d taken the children and hidden out in the wilds of Cornwall.

But hiding was so much easier than the truth.

“It would not be imposing,” Adam said. “I must marry sometime. Heirs and all. I like you quite a lot, and I consider Lully a gem. Can you say your life would be worse married to a duke? You could help me so much. After all, I cannot imagine the marchioness raising you without extensive training in how to be married to a peer. We could make the title what we wanted. And we could cushion Lully and help her grow into her own title. Who else can better raise her to fulfill her responsibilities? After all, I shall be growing into my title the same time she grows into hers. We can help each other.”

She couldn’t bear it a minute longer. She downed her second glass of brandy as if it had been a cordial and braced for the renewed fire. She should be stumbling in her altitudes about now. She didn’t feel a thing. Certainly not the courage people said resided in the stuff. Certainly not peace of any kind. She just felt worse, because she had come not just to respect this man--heavens, she had respected him all along, ever since Jamie had spoken of the cousin who had nurtured him and encouraged him to be the man he was. No, now that she had finally met him, she had to admit that she had built a far more thorough fondness for him out of no more than stories and smiles. And now? Now.

“That is the problem in its entirety,” she blurted out, staring unblinking at the empty snifter in her hands, knowing that if she didn’t tell him now, her father would. And he would make it so much worse. “She isn’t.”

There was a pause. “Isn’t what?”

Georgie took a shuddering breath. “A duchess.”

Silence. Her heart seemed to crack and flake apart. She was about to shame herself before this kind man. Worse, she was about to shame Jamie and Lully. But there was nothing else to do.

“Is she not Jamie’s child?” he asked in a very quiet voice.

That brought her head up and fire into her heart, just in time to prevent it dying. “Did you not take a good look at her?” she demanded, truly outraged. “Did you not see Jamie in her smile? In her whimsy and, sweet lord, her beautiful hair? All she got from me were her eyes and her reserve.” Without her permission tears collected again in her eyes. “If she had received Jamie’s personality, she would have taken you under her wing and patted your hand like a puppy. She would have dragged you outside to play and fed you scones in the kitchen.”

She wasn’t as astonished as she should have been to see Adam’s eyes brighten with his own tears. “I know. “He cleared his voice and dipped his head. “It is her smile most of all. That is the imp of Jamie as sure as I’m born. My apologies, Lady Georgiana. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Yes you do,” she admitted, sinking back into her seat and wishing she had yet another few fingers of brandy. “And you had every right to ask. No. There is no question who Lully’s father is.”

“Then what is the problem?”

She looked up, silently begging his understanding. Knowing she had no right to it. Knowing too that this was the moment she reached the crossroads and set off on her path alone.

“The problem is that Lully has no right to a title of any kind.”

He went very still.

“Why?”

It was all she could do to keep her eyes open. “Because Jamie and I never quite managed to marry.”

CHAPTER 6

GEORGIE THOUGHT she would never see another human as shocked as Adam Marrick. He opened his mouth, but for the longest time couldn’t seem to manage words. She swore she could almost hear the thoughts whirling in his head.

“Jamie never told me.”

She flushed miserably. “No. He wouldn’t. I had hoped he could get home in time to rectify the matter.”

A shrug completed the thought, the truth that would never change.

This time it was Adam who gained his feet much faster than he should have and began to pace, his cane thumping and his right leg dragging just a bit. Georgie remained where she was, a miserable lump of shame.

“Who knows?” he asked, not bothering to turn from where he was pouring another tot for himself.

Georgie almost asked him to simply bring the bottle over. She didn’t have enough courage left.

“My parents. Hattie Clark, my companion.”

He stopped. Looked up. “That’s all? Not even your brother or his wife?”

She shrugged. “What would have been the point? There was no consequence to the lie. We fully assumed we would spend our lives tucked away out of sight.”

“But what about when Lully came of age? She must be presented.”

Georgie lifted an eyebrow. “Must she? You saw what happened when my father found out where she was. Do you think he would be any more considerate if I were brazen enough to try to pass off my daughter among the ton?”

He downed the liquid in his snifter and refilled it before heading off again, his limp increasing with every step. She was close to begging him to sit for his own sake, but she knew how necessary movement was sometimes when shock was suffered.

“I’m sorry,” she managed.

Which brought him to a dead stop right in front of her. “What in the name of God are you apologizing for? This was as much Jamie’s fault as….”

She shook her head. “He never knew.”

Adam stared. “He certainly did. I never received a letter without a recitation of every achievement you shared of his brilliant daughter. He evidently went on a two-day drunk when she learned to walk. He wasn’t there, you see, and...”

Tears welled again in both their eyes. “Of course he knew about her. He was over the moon.”

Adam dropped back into his chair. “Then what?”

She drew another breath. “He thought I had permission for the marriage. When we stood before the priest. I was under-age when we married in Portsmouth before he sailed that first time. When my parents found out they disowned me.”

He blinked a couple of times. “That’s it? You had a license and a priest and everything?”

“Banns read. But in Portsmouth where my father wouldn’t find out. I...forged his signature.”

“But there is a license? It is recorded in a church?”

“It doesn’t matter. My father was happy to tell me he he would be delighted to announce my crime if I dared try to tout my supposed marriage. They took the license. It is undoubtedly ash long since.”

For the longest moment Adam just watched her, his eyes dark, thoughtful. And then, amazingly enough, he smiled.

Then he laughed. Georgie stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Not only are you married,” he told her, taking hold of her hand. “But Lully is as much a duchess as I am a duke.”

Georgie tried to pull her hand away. He wouldn’t budge.

“Impossible...”

“No.” He actually lifted her hand and kissed it. “All you need is permission. We can easily obtain that. ” His grin grew piratical. “And even if the permission is after Lully is born, it changes nothing about her title.”

“Of course it does.”

He shook his head, laughing outright. “Not with a Scottish title. Believe it or not, the title is valid if the child is born out of wedlock, as long as the parents normalize relationships. Your Lully is a duchess, whether your father wishes it or not.”

It was Georgie’s turn to leap to her feet. She backed away, as if space would impose reason. “He will never allow it. Think of the scandal.”

“Don’t be silly. The scandal will be if a certain duke spreads the tale that because your father was so hateful, his granddaughter was not only forbidden her rightful title, but labeled a bastard when any loving and supportive parent would have blessed a wedding between his child and a lost war hero.”

She gaped at the mad look in his eye. “You would never.”

“Of course not. But your father doesn’t know that. The only thing he knows about me was that I came looking for you in order to secure Lully’s title. Imagine his reaction to my threat that I would happily divulge the truth if he fails to assure all and sundry that your wedding to the man who should have become the Duke of Kintyre went forward with his blessing and approval. Especially with your brother as witness.”

She stepped forward. “No. No, Jack has enough problems.”

Adam regained his feet with a wince. “I hope we settle this situation soon. I don’t think my knee can take another round.” Balanced on his cane, he reached out once again for her hand. “Jack will never forgive you if you do not allow him to stand by your side. He will truly never forgive you if he cannot give you away when you wed your duke.” He grinned. “Your next duke.”

She faltered, tried to gage the expression in his eyes. Tested her own heart to realize that she was terrified he wasn’t being serious. She wanted this. Oh, Jamie, she wanted this.

“You don’t have to go to those lengths, Adam.”

His smile grew and softened. “Oh, but I do, Georgie. Please don’t make me face this dukedom all on my own. I need someone who understands how to be flexible and bold, brave and loyal.” Now, he was grinning outright. “It would help if she set my blood to fire with her kisses.”

Georgie blushed, her own blood heating quite effectively. “She does?”

“Most assuredly. I have a confession to make. I began to fall in love with you through Jamie’s letters. I tumbled the rest of the way when I watched you thoroughly rout the kidnappers with the help of people who you have inspired into loyalty and respect. They would all die for you. Our attraction is only the icing on the cake. You would make an exemplary duchess. I only hope you could find your way to being my duchess.”

Those pesky tears rose again. This time, though, they were cleansing, joyful, verdant. Spring had come to her soul, and the sun rose. “I believe I could,” she admitted.

He dropped his cane and caught her other hand. “And you could settle for an old soldier who comes to you a bit worse for wear?”

“With all my heart.”

He pulled her close, nestling her against his heart where she had so longed to be. “Do you think Jamie would have approved?”

“I think he made sure that if he couldn’t be here to see Lully and I through, you would. Do you mind?”

He laid his hand against her back and bent his head to hers. “I will be thankful every day of my life.”

For the longest time they remained where they were, pledging a new love, honoring an old one, setting a path for the future.

“Now,” he finally said. “Shall we go secure a duchy for your daughter?”

And for the first time in years, Georgie laughed with a free heart. “Yes,” she said, reaching up to kiss him one final time before sharing their news. “Let’s.”

ANYONE LOOKING on the tableau in the Marquess of Wyndham’s Great Parlor would at first assume that the family gathered before him was seeking a boon, not making an accusation. The Marquess, white-haired and rigidly erect, sat in his favorite chair, the one that looked suspiciously like the Regent’s throne, his beringed hands clutching the chair arms, his austere face set in a terrifying scowl. His wife the Marchioness sat alongside him, just as regal in her puce damask day dress and ropes of heirloom pearls. Her patrician face, though, betrayed a bit of bemusement, as if she had stumbled onto a conversation that had already been in progress.

Along one side of the gathered gilt-edged Louis Quinze furniture sat Georgie’s brother Jack, the Earl of Gracechurch, and his wife Olivia, both humming with tension, both carrying battle scars, even though faded with time. Side by side on an elegant straw settee, he brunette and she blonde, they held hands, much to the Marquess’s discomfort.

On the other side of the room sat Georgie and Adam, also holding hands. For the first time in her life, Georgie faced her father without fear. Without a word Adam reminded her of how strong she was.

“Where is the child?” the marquess barked.

“Why?” Georgie asked, knowing Adam would not intervene for her. “So you can try to nab her again?”

The marquess bristled. “Don’t be absurd, girl.”

The marchioness, her own white-haired head swiveling toward her husband, suddenly scowled. “What does she mean?” .

“This does not concern you, madame,” he snapped at her. “I am speaking to your daughter.”

“That daughter who has new groomsmen,” Georgie said quite as calmly as when she’d faced the kidnappers. She hoped Adam had the brandy ready for when this was over. “Jem is not coming back, father. I should probably tell you that Jem’s father will be joining his son at our home where he is assured no one will coerce his family into illegal and immoral behavior. No one will ever again try to kidnap my daughter, sir. ”

The marquess looked close to a seizure. “How dare you…?”

The marchioness stiffened. “Kidnap?”

“Don’t be absurd,”he barked.

Georgie had had enough of this. “I’m not being absurd when you try to lock my four-year-old daughter away in a home for the insane.”

That brought the marchioness to her feet. “You said you would send her to Aunt Marguerite!” she shrilled at her husband. “You said that Lilly Charlotte was in danger where she was! You said Georgiana knew!”

This seemed finally too much for the marquess. “It was where she was going! Marguerite was waiting for her. What do you think me, a monster? Who told you such a lie, Georgiana?”

“Your gamekeeper,” Georgie said.

“My late gamekeeper,” he retorted, then took his marchioness's hand. “I am strict, Leona. I am not a beast.”

Georgie slumped just a bit, relieved at her father’s words. Even as fraught as their relationship was, she hadn’t wanted to believe the worst.

Adam squeezed her hand and smiled for her. “See? Some good news.”

She smiled for him and turned back to see her mother regain her seat.

“Georgie’s marriage, father,” Jack said from the facing chairs. “What are we to do about it?”

“There was no marriage,” the marquess insisted.

“If you wish to see your granddaughter made a duchess instead of a scandal,” Georgie retorted, “this matter needs to be settled this afternoon, sir.”

The marchioness nodded. “We will acknowledge the marriage and be done with it.”

The marquess stared at her as if she had started speaking in tongues. “Madame….”

“Enough, Windham,” she snapped. “Georgiana is correct. We skate perilously close to scandal, and I won’t have it.”

The marquess seemed to swell. “That is not a matter for you.”

“I disagree,” the earl quietly said. “It is a matter for all of us. I have already told you quite clearly that if you attempt to interfere in our lives again I will separate us from you and we will never cross this threshold again until you are dead and I assume the marquessate. Did you think I was bluffing?”

The marchioness blanched and turned a condemning eye on her lord. “You would risk losing your heirs? You would send Jamie away again?”

“This has nothing to do with you,” his father told Jack.

Jack Wyndham sneered at his father. “Oh, but it is. I won’t waste my time appealing to your family feeling. As mother has said, you are far more interested in reputation. Consider this, though. If not for Georgie, you would have no heir of your blood for the title. She kept Gervaise from murdering your grandson. And do you really believe Gervaise would have stopped at Jamie and me? He would have gone after Ned next so that the title would have gone to him, who wasn’t fit to clean out your stables. Now, for all that is holy, father, get off your high horse and make it clear to all and sundry that you always approved of Georgie’s marriage, or you will be the loneliest, most despised peer in the realm.”

“If it means that much to you,” Georgie added, “you may comfort yourself with the knowledge that if he had lived, Jamie would have been Duke of Kintyre. I should think that would be notable enough even for you.”

“A Scottish title,” her father scoffed.

“A dukedom older than the marquessate,” Georgie retorted.

Good heavens. She was actually beginning to enjoy herself. It truly was all right to rely on someone else, especially someone you loved. She gifted that someone a sly smile to see the pride in his eyes and hung onto his hand for a little extra strength.

“Do you have my marriage lines?” Georgie asked her father, sitting as tall and proud as any in the room as she faced him. “Will you finally heal the breach, or will Jack be correct? I would very much like you both to know your granddaughter. But not if it puts Lully in any danger. And just to make certain, if you aren’t certain how well my child—and Jack’s, come to think of it—are protected, ask young Jem about our Murphy, who is up with both of them in the nursery right now. I will no longer live every day in terror that you will hurt my child.”

The duke actually looked stricken. “I would never hurt a child. You must know that.”

“How could I?” she demanded. “First you disowned your granddaughter and then you tried to kidnap her. Exactly what type of kindness is that?”

“Just so you know, Wyndham,” Adam said, dropping a kiss on Georgie’s hand, “your daughter and granddaughter are no longer powerless. In exactly three days, she will be a duchess with all the power and resources incumbent. She is no longer alone.”

Georgie wished she were surprised that her mother immediately brightened. It seemed a dukedom salved all wounds.

Her father turned to Jack where he’d been watching his sister with a half smile. “Do you know about this?”

“We are to be their attendants,” Jack said. “With the greatest pleasure. We just have to find a way to choose who gets Murphy.”

Georgie actually grinned. “I dare you to challenge Lully for him.” Turning back to her father, she kept her smile. “Well, father?” she asked. “What say you?”

The marquess gave her a long, assessing look, his expression oddly vulnerable. “I only wanted what was best,” he finally admitted.

“I had what was best,” she assured him, her own voice softening. “I had my Jamie, and I had my Lully. And when you considered the title to be more important than your own children, I had Olivia and Little Jamie. And now, I have Jack back, and I have Adam. I would also like to have you and mother and the rest of the family back in my life. That is what has been important to me. If you can bend a little, you might realize exactly what ‘best’ is.”

It took a long moment during which the room hummed with unspoken tension. Finally, without his posture easing by an inch, the marquess waved one of his hands. “Call for Williams. I will need the keys to the safe. I would also call for the children.”

Even as the over-starched butler opened the door and bowed, Georgie began to climb to her feet in protest.

Her father lifted a hand in her direction. “I would know my granddaughter, Georgiana. She is a duchess now. I would like to introduce her to the dignity of her position.”

He looked confused when the younger people in the room began to laugh.

Their laughter was quickly enough explained when a few moments later the same butler opened the door, bowed as if at a grand ball, and grandly announced, “The Viscount Amberly and Miss Lilly Charlotte Grace.”

At which point young Jamie came romping in followed by the lumbering Murphy who waited at the door for the very prim, very serene little girl who followed as if on the stroll in Hyde Park, her pretty green velvet dress spotless and unwrinkled, her green hair bow precisely placed in her bright red curls.

Jamie popped a quick bow to his grandparents and ran over to be folded into Olivia’s arms. Lully strode to the center of the room and gave Georgie her little-girl curtsy. “You called me, mama? Hello, Grace.”

Adam nodded, having long since given up trying to correct her. “Hello, Lully.”

“Lully,” Georgie said to her baby. “Allow me to introduce you to your grandparents, the Marquess and Marchioness of Wyndham. They felt you might like to learn a bit about the dignity of your family.”

Whereupon Lully turned her raised eyebrows at the couple who were now staring at her from their thronelike chairs. “Indeed,” was all she said.

Georgie’s father coughed. “She certainly has taken to her title well,” he managed.

Georgie laughed outright. “She has no idea about the title,” she informed him as everyone else chuckled. She lifted the marriage lines Williams had retrieved from the safe. “We haven’t told her yet.”

“What title?” Lully asked.

Georgie smiled. “Cutest sprite in England.”

Lully immediately let loose with one of her lovely giggles. “Silly.”

“Give your grandparents your best curtsy, please,” Georgie instructed. Bi cúramach, Murphy.”

Lully wobbled a curtsy and straightened. Murphy stepped up right alongside his tiny mistress so she could lay her hand on his neck.

“This is our dog Murphy,” Lully informed her gaping grandparents with the gravity of a doyenne. “If you try to hurt me, he will eat you.”

And for the first time Georgie could ever remember, he father broke into a genuine smile. “I have no doubt. I promise he will have no cause, Lilly Chalotte.”

She nodded as if bestowing a boon. “Good. I want to like you.”

Then she did something the marquess’s children had never had the temerity to do. She ran up to the two very starchy gray-haired people seated on their stately chairs, motioned them to her and gave them a smacking kiss on the forehead.

The marchioness actually exhibited tears. “Thank you, sweet girl,” she whispered. “That was….the best.”

“Indeed,” the marquess acknowledged unsteadily, reaching out a hand that Lully accepted with aplomb. “Indeed.”

“Me, too?” Jamie demanded from his place alongside his mother.

His grandparents looked even more startled.

“Why, yes,” the marchioness said, hands out. “I suppose so.”

Jamie ran into them, and suddenly the two children and their grandparents were talking as if they had been together for years.

Georgie didn’t realize she was weeping until Adam set a handkerchief in her hand. “All better now?” he asked.

She nodded. “It is certainly on the right road, my love.”

He smiled at her. “My love,” he echoed. “That is the best of all.”

“Yes,” she smiled back, knowing that with the support of this man she had finally reclaimed herself. “It is.”

For the first time in her life, she felt good about the future of her family. But even if she had walked away from her parents empty-handed, she had more than her heart could hold. All because Adam Marrick had kept his cousin’s promise.

Thank you, Jamie, she thought as she considered the family he had given her and the future she thought he blessed. Thank you for loving me enough to give me Adam. And for telling me to look past his perfectly forgettable face.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times bestselling, RWA Hall of Fame author Eileen Dreyer has published 32 romance novels and novellas in most sub-genres, 8 medical-forensic suspenses, and 10 short stories.

2019 sees Eileen publishing THREE TIMES A LADY, which continues her Drakes Rakes series about a group of Regency aristocrats who are willing to sacrifice everything to keep their country safe. She also continues to republish her RITA-winning Kathleen Korbel contemporaries, beginning with THE ICE CREAM MAN.

A former trauma nurse, she lives in St. Louis with her husband, children, and large and noisy Irish family, of which she is the reluctant matriarch. She has animals but refuses to subject them to the limelight.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Newsletter ~ Bookbub ~ Goodreads

ALSO BY EILEEN DREYER

I’ve wanted to give Georgie Grace a happy ending since she appeared in BARELY A LADY, the first in my DRAKE’S RAKES regency romantic adventure series. I’m so glad to be able to do it now. If you want more Rakes, (especially her brother Jack and his wife Olivia), or any of my contemporary romances, follow my links.

Drake’s Rakes Series

Barely A Lady

Never A Gentleman

Always A Temptress

It Begins With A Kiss

Once A Rake

Twice Tempted

Korbel Classics Collection

Jake’s Way

Simple Gifts

Timeless

Perchance To Dream

A Soldier’s Heart

A Rose For Maggie

A Walk On The Wild Side

Some Men’s Dreams

Korbel Classics Humorous Collection

The Ice Cream Man

Isn’t It Romantic?

A Prince of A Guy

The Princess & The Pea

A Fine Madness

New York Times bestselling, RWA Hall of Fame author Eileen Dreyer has published 32 romance novels and novellas in most sub-genres, 8 medical-forensic suspenses, and 10 short stories.

2019 sees Eileen continuing her Drakes Rakes series about a group of Regency aristocrats who are willing to sacrifice everything to keep their country safe. She also continues to republish her RITA-winning Kathleen Korbel contemporaries, beginning with THE ICE CREAM MAN.

A former trauma nurse, she lives in St. Louis with her husband, children, and large and noisy Irish family, of which she is the reluctant matriarch. She has animals but refuses to subject them to the limelight.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Newsletter ~ Bookbub ~ Goodreads

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Contents

A Duke For All Seasons!

DUKE IN WINTER – Alyssa Alexander

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

About the Author

THE DIFFERENCE ONE DUKE MAKES – Elizabeth Essex

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

About the Author

DISCOVERING THE DUKE – Madeline Martin

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

From Madeline Martin

About the Author

THE DUKE AND THE APRIL FLOWERS – Grace Burrowes

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

From Grace Burrowes

LOVE LETTERS FROM A DUKE – Gina Conkle

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

About the Author

Also by Gina Conkle

HER PERFECT DUKE – Ella Quinn

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Author Notes

HOW TO DITCH A DUKE – May McGoldrick

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Author’s Note

TO TEMPT A HIGHLAND DUKE – Bronwen Evans

Preface

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Epilogue

About Bron

DUKE IN SEARCH OF A DUCHESS – Jennifer Ashley

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

About the Author

DEAR DUKE – Anna Harrington

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Author’s Note

Letter to Readers

MUST LOVE DUKE – Heather Snow

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

From Heather

About the Author

THE MISTLETOE DUKE – Sabrina York

Preface

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Sabrina York

DUELING WITH THE DUKE – Eileen Dreyer

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

About the Author

Also by Eileen Dreyer