When he had agreed to house this trio, he never imagined they could so completely disrupt a well-developed household schedule and create so much confusion, change, and noise. But surprisingly Duncan had not minded the sounds these three had brought to his house.
It gave the house the life and joy that had long since been missing. An inner voice mocked this sudden acceptance of familial bliss, but the practical side of Duncan’s nature decided he was enjoying the children so much because he knew the arrangement was only temporary. They were staying with him in town only until Nathaniel had ensured all was ready for them at Hillsdale Castle in the Highlands.
And, given that it had been nearly ten years since Duncan had last set foot in his northernmost property, he knew it would take Nathaniel plenty of time to make everything acceptable.
While they waited here in Edinburgh, there was no reason not to enjoy himself and bring a bit of fun into the children’s lives. They had suffered greatly these past few months. They deserved to experience some carefree childhood days again.
Dismissing the maid from his thoughts, Duncan turned back to the game. The movement behind the green damask let him know the children had not taken advantage of his distraction to find another hiding place.
Resuming his crawling position, Duncan inched forward slowly. He could see three pairs of small slippered feet poking out from beneath the heavy fabric. With a cry of glee, he reached out and strongly grasped the closest limb.
An ear-splitting squeal of excitement tore through the room as his hapless victim tried desperately to escape.
“I’ve caught you now,” Duncan cried, tugging gently.
“He’s got me! Help!” the child screeched, kicking out with both legs, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge the hold on his ankle.
“Don’t worry, we’ll set you free.”
Two sets of hands joined the fray, but those delicate fingers could not dislodge his grip. All three were still concealed behind the curtains. Only the foot and ankle of Duncan’s prisoner was revealed, but he knew he had caught young Gregory.
Realizing a different tack was needed, Gregory’s sisters yanked hard on a section of the drapes, trying to use it as leverage to free their brother. Impressed with their cleverness, Duncan glanced upward, hoping the rods were strong enough to support this abuse.
“I’ll never let you go,” he cried, heightening the excitement of the game. “In fact, you feel like such a tasty little morsel, I believe I will eat you for my dinner.”
His pronouncement was met with a gale of laughter.
“We already ate our dinner,” a young girlish voice said. “Is Uncle Duncan still hungry?”
“He is only teasing,” a second voice clarified.
“Oh. Now what should we do?”
“We attack!”
It was a brilliant suggestion, a strategy of boldness worthy of any of Wellington’s generals. Without any additional warning, the children wheeled around and leaped toward him. He tried to back up, but being caught unawares and positioned on his knees made it difficult to maneuver. He lost his grip on his prisoner, who quickly turned and joined the assault. Within seconds they surrounded him and Duncan toppled over onto his back.
The trio took instant advantage of this vulnerable position and fell on top of him. Laughing, Duncan seized the chance to engulf all three of them in a large hug. They resisted for a moment, squirming and fidgeting, then collapsed against him.
Struggling to regain his breath, Duncan sat up. The children clustered around him, their faces shining with delight. They were dressed in their nightclothes and robes. Duncan grinned ruefully, deciding he should probably not have been roughhousing with them so near to bedtime.
Hell, he probably shouldn’t have been roughhousing with them at all, especially the girls. He should be treating them like proper young ladies. But they weren’t ladies. They were little girls, who seemed to crave the physical activity and release even more than their younger brother at times.
They had all been silent and reserved when they first arrived, but the younger two had soon reacted to the pleasant atmosphere of Duncan’s home and the affectionate fussing of the staff. The eldest, Phoebe, had taken longer to let down her guard, probably because she realized more than her brother and sister that something was terribly odd about their situation.
It was obvious however that she was worried about not seeing her uncle. She never asked directly where Nathaniel was or when he would return for them, but Duncan could tell that while she liked him, she really only completely trusted Nathaniel.
To ease the child’s fears, Duncan began mentioning Nathaniel in casual conversation every day, speculating what the other man was doing in the far north, explaining how much fun and adventure the children would have when they joined Nathaniel. Eventually he was able to coax a few smiles from Phoebe and ease away the furrow that usually creased her brow.
It was with no small amount of pride that Duncan conceded there wasn’t a woman, young or old, that could resist the charm of The McTate when he applied himself. As if proving that very point, Jeanne Marie scrambled into his lap and nestled her head against his shoulder.
“It was fun to play, but I got scared when you said you were going to eat Gregory,” Jeanne Marie announced. “Gregory was scared, too.”
“I was not!”
Duncan smoothed a hand over the boy’s hair. “There’s nothing wrong with being scared of something bigger than you are, lad. But Goodness, I would never have eaten Gregory! If I gobbled him up, I know I’d get a bellyache.”
“A big bellyache,” Jeanne Marie said with a chuckle.
“It was a good game,” Duncan commented. “But next time we should play in a larger area, where there are more places to hide.”
All three heads bobbed enthusiastically. “Maybe we can play this game with Uncle Nathaniel too,” Phoebe said. “When we go live with him.”
Duncan gave the girl a gentle smile. “I’m sure Uncle Nathaniel would like that very much.”
Her lighthearted grin touched his heart. Yet as much as he enjoyed having this trio in his house, he knew it would be best for them to be with Nathaniel. Soon.
“It was a contest, not a game,” Jeanne Marie explained. “We had to see which of us could hide without being caught. Gregory lost.”
“I won,” Gregory protested. “The winner was the first one who got caught. That was me.”
“You lost,” Jeanne Marie said, sticking out her tongue to emphasize the point.
“I won!” Gregory crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his chin. A faint pout touched the corners of his face. Duncan had to hide his smile. The boy was a male tyrant in the making, determined to have his own way in everything. In retrospect, an excellent temperament for an English duke.
It had not taken long for Duncan to realize that Gregory hated to lose at anything. At first, his sisters had deferred to his wishes, but these past few days had seen a change in their attitudes. They were not so quick to grant him his every wish now.
Duncan supposed the change was partly due to his attitude toward the boy. As the adult, he felt it was his obligation to teach the lad to redouble his effort to win, rather than trying to change the rules to suit himself.
A tough lesson for a four-year-old to comprehend.
Duncan worried that he might be a bit too hard on the lad. He tried to remember what it felt like to have the freedom of being young and wild, not having a care in the world. But he could not. Childhood was a luxury that had never been offered to the laird of the clan, and the heir to the English earldom. Like young Gregory, Duncan’s father had died young: After that, the responsibilities and obligations of his birth and title had been emphasized even more.
A rather daunting lesson for an eight-year-old to learn.
“You played fair Gregory and put up a good fight.” Duncan said, and chucked the boy under the chin, trying to coax a smile. “Of course, it did take all three of you to defeat me.”
; “Next time we’re going to win faster,” Gregory promised.
There was a tap on the door, and it opened just wide enough to allow the housekeeper to poke her head around it.
“Praise be, I’ve found ye at last,” she said, glancing reproachfully at Duncan. “ ’Tis long past time you were in bed, children. Your nursemaids are waiting. Now hurry along.”
“We don’t want to go to bed. Can’t we stay up longer?” Jeanne Marie asked. All three turned pleading eyes toward Duncan.
The laird grimaced. It was very difficult to refuse them anything, especially when it was so easily within his power to grant their wish. And it really wasn’t that late. “Well, perhaps—”
“Off to bed,” the housekeeper interrupted. “Ye’ll not be fit company for man nor beast if you don’t get yer full night’s sleep.”
The children turned again to Duncan in mute appeal, but the stern look on the housekeeper’s face warned the laird not to counter her edict.
“Proper rest is important for growing children,” Duncan said. “And if you get to sleep right now, you’ll be ready for a ride with me first thing in the morning.”
“Before breakfast?” Jeanne Marie asked. Duncan, never fond of early rising, managed a rueful grin. “Before breakfast. I know how much you like being on your ponies.”
“We had wonderful horses back home in London,” Phoebe said quietly. “Do you think Lord Bridwell is making sure they are being fed and taken out for exercise while we are away?”
“Of course,” Duncan replied cheerfully, hoping that Nathaniel’s villainous uncle, Lord Bridwell, had no idea the children were so attached to their ponies. For if he did, Duncan suspected the older man would probably have the poor creatures destroyed. “But it is my fat ponies who will be in need of a good gallop tomorrow morning.”
“Before breakfast,” Jeanne Marie reiterated. Duncan nodded and all three children smiled.
The housekeeper ushered them out the door, then turned to him. “If this is a taste of yer discipline, I’ll be needing to warn the staff we’re in for a rough time. I can see ye’re going to be impossible when yer own bairns come along, spoilin’ them rotten and grantin’ their every whim.”
Duncan noted while her tone was scolding, her eyes were filled with affection. Having children had always been a vague thought lingering in the back of his mind, residing no doubt near the similar idea of one day acquiring a wife. Yet these ideal dreams were part of a very distant future.
Duncan slowly stood and smoothed his coat. He glanced at the stack of abandoned correspondence on his desk, and decided there was nothing that could not wait until morning. After his ride. And after breakfast.
He would retire to the private sitting room adjacent to his bedchamber and enjoy some fine claret, a good smoke, and a few chapters of a new book. Meeting the butler in the foyer, Duncan instructed him to dismiss the footman for the evening.
“Ye’re staying in again, m’lord?”
Duncan merely lifted his brow. The servant blushed and lowered his gaze, as if realizing the impudence of questioning the laird’s actions. The butler bowed, then left, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor.
Though Duncan had been annoyed by the butler’s remark, he could not fault the man for his surprise. Duncan’s social life had suffered drastically since the children arrived. Normally, he was a much sought after guest in the tight circle that made up Edinburgh society.
It was not something he enjoyed over much, but ever-conscious of his duty, Duncan made brief appearances at all the necessary functions. He also made the rounds at the gentlemen’s clubs and gaming establishments when the mood suited him. Society here could not compare to the hurried and frantic pace of London Society, but there were distractions in the Scottish capital for men of wealth and power, such as he.
The one thing he did miss, however, was female companionship. He had not visited his mistress once since the children arrived, fearing that her luscious, sensual body would be too much of a distraction, and keep him too long away from home.
Anna had a fiery temper to match her passionate nature and she was no doubt made furious by the lack of attention. He had sent several bouquets of her favorite flowers, along with a charming note, but Duncan knew from experience it would take an expensive gem to turn her frowns and pouts into a welcoming embrace.
Although there were servants aplenty to perform the task, Duncan carefully walked through each of the downstairs rooms, checking and re-checking every window and door. Duncan took his temporary position as guardian and protector very seriously, even though he doubted Nathaniel’s uncle, Lord Bridwell, had any idea where the children were being hidden.
For his own sanity, Duncan needed to ensure there would be no surprise threat in the middle of the night, no chance that any harm would come to those three young innocents. Once he was confident the house was properly secure, Duncan went upstairs to bid the children a final goodnight.
His first stop was Gregory’s room, but, as usual, Duncan was too late. As he approached the bed, the nursemaid sitting quietly in the corner smiled and shook her head. Gregory was already sleeping. It seemed that the minute the child’s head hit the pillow he was asleep.
Smiling, Duncan gazed at the innocent face. In slumber, Gregory’s features took on an almost baby-like quality, reminding him of how young, helpless and dependent was this child that he had vowed to protect.
He next entered the chamber the girls now occupied. Since he wanted the children housed near him, the girls were placed in the room that had been his mother’s. The chamber reflected the status and taste of its previous occupant. Expensive wallpaper adorned the walls, thick rugs covered the polished oak floors, and the massive bed was covered in satin and rich brocade.
Upon waking the first morning, young Jeanne Marie had solemnly reported the large, soft bed had “swallowed her up.” But she liked the pretty figurines and silk tasselled pillows, and as long as her sister Phoebe slept beside her, the younger girl was content to stay in this room.
The girls, unlike their slumbering brother, were waiting patiently for his arrival. With their nursemaid looking on, they solemnly recited their bedtime prayers. As always, Duncan was humbled to hear himself included, even if he was placed after the girls’ ponies left behind in London.
He kissed each girl on the forehead, and helped them slide beneath the covers. They settled their heads on their pillows and fixed their eyes on him. Duncan squirmed a bit under such innocent trust, worried anew with the responsibility of keeping them safe.
“Sleep well, wee ones. May your dreams be filled with sweetness.”
As he spoke the words, Duncan knew their sleep would not be as restful as their brother’s. The nursemaid who watched over the girls reported they often whimpered and cried out during the night, clearly troubled by nightmares.
Duncan wished that Nathaniel were here. Not that his bachelor friend could do any better, but these children were his flesh and blood. They asked for him every day. They needed him.
Duncan entered his room and dismissed his valet. He stood, folded his hands behind his back and broodingly gazed into the fire. In less than a week’s time he would bring the children north, to Hillsdale Castle. He hoped that Nathaniel had managed to prepare everything properly and that the new governess either had arrived, or would do so shortly.
Duncan knew he should feel a sense of relief that his responsibility would soon be ending. He should be pleased that his household would once again be well-organized, his social life proper, his love-life fulfilled.
Yet instead all he felt was a confusing sense of lethargy and loss.
Lord Bridwell tried in vain to rein in his temper. For the past fifteen minutes, he had been listening to a progress report filled with no progress at all, only excuses and evasions.
“You have yet again nothing substantial to report?” he finally asked, letting both his ire and his exasperation show themselves. “Is that truly possible? Why did you even bother
to come to see me today? Bloody hell, Brockhurst, if you are an example of the best the famed Bow Street Runners have to offer, I can only shudder to think what sort of mess the others would have created if I had hired them to perform such a simple task.”
Jerome Brockhurst, a seasoned and experienced detective, lifted his chin and returned the hard stare. “The task is hardly simple, my lord. Your nephew and wards appear to have vanished. London is a large city, especially for someone with deep pockets. There is also some evidence to suggest that Lord Avery has departed from Town, which widens the area to be searched considerably.”
Lord Bridwell’s temper rose a notch. “I expect results, not excuses. You have been in my employ for over a fortnight and have yet to discover any trace of the missing children or my nephew.”
Mr. Brockhurst’s mouth turned down. “I am not entirely convinced that your nephew is responsible for the children’s disappearance. Perhaps that is the reason my investigation has yielded no results.”
For a moment, doubt nibbled at Lord Bridwell. Ever since he had learned that the children had disappeared, he had assumed Nathaniel had taken them and refused to allow Brockhurst to pursue another course of investigation. He was convinced that if Lord Avery could be located, the children would be found. Could he be wrong?
“There has been no demand for ransom,” Lord Bridwell exclaimed. “My nephew would call each day and visit the brats, yet the moment they disappeared he ceased calling. I’ve made a few inquiries of my own and no one can recall seeing him about Town for two solid weeks. That cannot be a mere coincidence.”
“Lord Avery told several of his friends he was not leaving London until the spring,” Mr. Brockhurst said. “That could have merely been a ruse, if indeed your nephew is involved in this affair, especially since there was some general confusion as to his exact destination. Most of the gentlemen I spoke with were under the impression he was traveling north.”
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