Dukes by the Dozen

by Grace Burrowes

  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?”