by Diana Quincy
“How would you understand?” Patience craned her little neck all the way back to peer up at him. “You’re a duke. Izzy says you can do anything you like.”
“Now I can, that much is true,” he allowed. “But when I was your age, it was a different matter entirely.”
“What do you mean?”
Normally, the constant barrage of questions from the half-pint would annoy him, but given his own experiences, Sunny felt sympathetic to the child’s current plight. “I was not allowed to play.”
“What does that mean?” Her high little forehead scrunched up. “You couldn’t play until your lessons were finished?”
“My lessons never came to an end. A duke has many responsibilities.” Although, as an adult, he’d neatly evaded most of them. “There was always something to be learned.”
She made a face. “Being a duke sounds terrible.”
“Not all of it. There are certain advantages.”
“Like what?”
“I have my playroom for example, where little girls can tumble while watching themselves in the mirror.” The words slipped out almost unbidden, but he wasn’t sorry. Why shouldn’t the child have the opportunity to play? If Finch was anything like his draconian old nursemaid, she routinely sucked the fun out of the girls’ lives.
“But you said I cannot play in there,” Patience said.
“You cannot. And certainly not without my permission. However, I have decided to grant you access just this once.”
Pleasure lit her silvery eyes. He’d never noted it before, but they were the same distinctive shade as his own—the famous Fairfax eyes—a radiant metal shade with an otherworldly glow. He paid his eye color little mind, but his paramours sometimes went into raptures about it.
Patience sobered. “If Izzy catches us, she’ll be very cross.”
“It’ll be our secret.” He leaned down closer and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “Finch never comes into my playroom so she is unlikely to catch us.”
She seemed to struggle with the decision. “I’m not supposed to lie to Izzy,” she said uncertainly.
“It’s not lying, strictly speaking,” he reassured her. “It’s not as if Finch is going to ask you outright whether you’ve been to my playroom.” He was starting to warm up to his plan to circumvent the shrew. “Now go and get your sister.”
She brightened. “Prudie can come, too?”
“Absolutely. Why not?” He straightened. “I shall go and bathe while you retrieve your sister. I will meet you both in my playroom in thirty minutes’ time.”
* * *
—
“Watch me, watch me!” Patience insisted. “I can do ten wheels in a row.” Sunny obliged the girl as she contorted her body from handstand to somersault and then upright on her feet before doing it all over again. Pan ran along beside the girl, barking while dodging ungainly legs and arms that twirled into his path.
Refreshed from his bath, his hair still damp, Sunny had found the girls and Pan eagerly awaiting him in front of the closed playroom door. Now comfortably ensconced on the plump sofa before the large window, a part of Sunny was beginning to regret offering up his cherished space as an actual playroom. But a larger part of him was thrilled to be able to thwart the she-dragon by allowing the girls to play unencumbered.
Prudence, who was clearly the quieter and shyer of the two children, stood hesitantly by the mirrored wall watching her sister’s antics.
“Prudie,” Patience shrieked while flying upside down through the air, “you should go and ride the swing.” She landed on her feet with a decisive thump. “She loves to swing, Duke. Will you let her?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
Prudence regarded him shyly. “Will you push me so I can go high?”
“I suppose.” He rose from the couch, wondering why it was that children always seemed to want to drag reluctant adults into their play.
He waited for her to climb onto the swing before he pushed her. She almost tumbled off from the force of it, but luckily her plump little hands tightened on the rope, saving her from toppling to the floor.
“Not so hard, Cousin Adam!” she admonished, giving him a hesitant smile over her shoulder.
“My apologies.” He pushed more gently this time. He’d never actually pushed a child on a swing before. He’d misjudged the amount of force required for such a task. He was accustomed to pushing grown women on the swing…sometimes two at a time.
She’d called him Cousin Adam, which, strictly speaking, he supposed he was. Her father, Cornelius, had been Sunny’s cousin, although he’d never met the man. As he pushed Prudence, he considered the irony of his situation. Not even a fortnight ago, two naked goddesses had been in this very chamber seeing to his pleasure. And now here he was, responsible for these two little orphans, and seeing to it that their harridan nursemaid didn’t squash all frivolity out of their lives as the adults in his life had done so many years ago.
Patience eyed the billiards table. “Can I climb onto that and jump off?”
“No, you may not.”
“Why not?” Patience insisted. “I just want to stand on it so I can jump off and do a somersault in the air before landing.”
“Because you will damage the billiards table.”
“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.” She said the words in rapid-fire succession so that they all sounded like one long aggravating phrase.
“The answer is no.” Sunny gave Prudence another light push. “I will not have you destroying my billiards table.”
“Is no one ever allowed on the billiards table, Cousin Adam?” Prudence asked in a quiet voice.
“No. Well, sometimes,” he said, remembering the few times he’d screwed women on that surface.
“Sometimes?” Patience perked up. “Like when? How come you let others sometimes but you won’t let me now?”
“That was an entirely different circumstance,” he said irritably.
“Different how?” Patience wanted to know.
“Just different,” he snapped. She was worse than Pan with a bone. “I’m a duke, by God, I don’t answer to anyone.”
“Humph.” Patience crossed her arms over her chest. “Adults always say things like that when they don’t have a good reason for taking away our fun.”
“Oh, very well,” he said, exasperated. “Just the once.”
She let out a cheer and scrambled onto the table. “Watch me!” She stood on the wooden edge, her face a picture of concentration until an unwelcome voice broke the momentary silence.
“What in heaven’s name is going on here?”
Chapter 6
“Look, Izzy,” Prudie called out excitedly as she soared into the air on the swing, “Cousin Adam is pushing me way up high!”
Isabel couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The children were at play in the wastrel’s den of iniquity while the man himself pushed Prudie on the swing, a contraption where any number of depraved acts had likely taken place.
She struggled to contain her fury. Any outburst or harsh word from her would upset Prudie. The girl had a sensitive nature. Besides, all of Isabel’s considerable ire was not directed at either child; it was reserved for one very infuriating duke.
He was casually dressed, in shirtsleeves and an open collar with no cravat to shield the strong lines of his throat. He wore some sort of dark, loose-fitting pants, and his russet hair was damp, as if he’d just bathed. It was a state of dishabille in which no gentleman would allow himself to be viewed by a lady. But she was no lady, not in his eyes. He knew nothing of her past and hadn’t asked.
“How could you allow Prudence, an innocent child, onto that filthy swing?” she asked him in as controlled a tone as she could muster.
“The swing doesn’t look dirty to me,” Prudie said.
“Do relax, Finch.�
�� The half smile on his aristocratic face could best be described as smug. “I had the swing replaced just yesterday. It needed new ropes and a new seat.”
She wondered if that was true. She’d ask John later. At the moment she had a more dire matter to worry about. She took a breath and turned her attention to Patience, perching on the edge of the billiards table. “Patience, come down from there at once.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The girl catapulted herself high into the air and did a half somersault.
Isabel’s heart dropped to her stomach when the child came down hard on her feet, stumbling a few steps before losing her balance altogether and tumbling to the floor. But she bounced right back up on her feet and turned to Sunderford. “Did you see, Duke, did you see? I did it.”
“I did indeed.” The man still stood behind the swing, pushing Prudie to and fro. “But that was only half a somersault, not an entire revolution.”
“I can do it.” She appeared ready to scramble back onto the table to prove the truth of her words. “I know I can. I’ll try again.”
“You will do no such thing,” Isabel said sharply. She remained in a constant state of disquietude where Patience’s fearlessness was concerned. Isabel had once been that way too, until catastrophe had upended her life and left her reeling. Patience must learn to have a care. If Isabel neglected to teach her as much, life and society certainly would in a far more devastating manner. “I said you were not allowed to tumble. I’m afraid you must be punished for disobeying me.”
“But Duke said I could,” the girl protested.
“Be that as it may, you disobeyed my rules.”
“Apparently, you misheard the child.” Sunderford’s precise diction dripped with condescension. “The child just informed you that I gave her permission.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “You did what?”
“I told her she could practice her tumbling in here. She enjoys watching herself in the mirror.”
Isabel forced a deep breath. She’d never been able to hold her temper, a fault that had landed her in trouble more than once. “Perhaps you weren’t aware that Patience is punished after what occurred outside on the garden wall.”
“I’m aware. The urchin informed me.”
She gaped at him. “And you let her do it anyway?”
“I did.”
“As you know nothing about children,” she said coldly, “perhaps you should leave the disciplining of them to me.”
“No, I think not.” The duke left Prudie on the swing and came over to her. “I am the guardian of these children. You, on the other hand, are merely the hired help here at my forbearance, to serve at my pleasure.”
She inhaled her shock at the unmistakable warning. If he chose to, this scoundrel could upset everything in the girls’ lives. “Forgive me, Your Grace.” She forced a calmness she did not feel. “It’s just that your sudden interest in the girls has taken me quite by surprise.”
“You are the one who said we all need to adjust to our new circumstances. I am doing so. Perhaps you should as well.”
Tension hung over the room. The girls had gone very still. Wide-eyed, they took in Isabel’s exchange with the duke. Even Pan sat motionless with his tail perched in the air.
Isabel turned to them. “Please return to the nursery. I must speak with His Grace in private.”
The girls scurried for the exit with Pan darting out ahead of them. Isabel moved to shut the door after them because Patience was known to listen at the door on occasion. Adult conversations fascinated the child.
She turned back to the duke. “What are you doing?”
The deviant shrugged as if he wasn’t quite certain himself. “Asserting my position in the children’s lives?”
“By teaching them to be disobedient and unruly?” His cavalier attitude inflamed her. The Duke of Debauchery had no idea the damage he could do to the children. “You do them no favors by leading them to believe they can flout society’s rules.”
“I’m granting them time to be children.” His sharp tone took her aback. “I will not allow humorless dried-up old nursemaids who have no joy in their lives to ruin the girls’ lives by enforcing pointless rules designed to drain all of the joy and enthusiasm out of them.”
She stared at him. He’d never spoken so forcefully before. Up until now, Sunderford had been all languid sarcasm and childish indolence. Before this moment, he’d never struck her as a formidable man or a powerful force to be reckoned with. Fear snaked up her spine. He’d realized his power over her and intended to wield it.
“You know nothing at all.” Emotion suddenly closed her throat. “You’ll ruin their futures.”
He seemed to register her distress. “You are overreacting,” he said adamantly. “I was merely allowing them to be children, and I intend to see to it in the future that they are allowed time to play and explore.”
“How noble of you.” She huffed a humorless laugh. “Little girls grow up to be women. Do you know what happens to women who don’t follow the rules?”
“I have some notion.”
“I doubt that.” She abhorred how shaky her voice sounded. She hated betraying any weakness before this addle-pated scapegrace. “Society is very cruel to women who follow their own desires and refuse to be meek.”
He shook his head, his expression making clear just how completely he disregarded her views. “It’s quite obvious that your rank in life has made you bitter.”
“You don’t understand at all. You are a wealthy man, a duke in possession of a fortune.”
“And you are a governess. I’m aware. Do you have a point?”
“A man like you can afford to break all of the rules. Society will still adore you.”
“It’s not me they adore. It’s the title and the fortune. I harbor no illusions about the source of my allure.”
“Precisely. The ton’s most respected matrons will throw their marriageable daughters into your path in hopes you will make one of them your duchess. Your rank and wealth will always protect you.”
“Has it not occurred to you that I can use those same advantages to protect the brats?”
“There is only so much you can do. Society’s censure—and laws that give men every advantage while giving females none at all—holds more power than almost anyone or anything…even a duke.”
“It may have escaped your notice, Finch, but the girls are of a different class than you. They are the great-granddaughters of one duke and the wards of another.”
“As if that will save them from heartache.” She knew from her own circumstances that high connections did not guarantee shelter and safety with the ones you loved.
“Good God, Finch! You certainly have a grim outlook on life.”
“It is a realistic view, Your Grace.” One that was well earned, although she would never tell him as much. Her past, her history, was her own private hell.
His brows drew together. “Is this what you are teaching the children? That gloom and doom lurk around every corner? Because that will not do.”
Outrage seared her chest. How dare this derelict, do-nothing duke challenge her fitness to supervise the girls? “As the children’s governess, it is my duty to prepare them for society.”
“You remind me of my governess,” he said with obvious contempt. He clearly held no affection for the woman with whom he’d spent much of his childhood. “She was just as joyless and bitter. She made my childhood a misery.”
Something inside her snapped at this man-child’s gall and presumption. As if he knew anything about true privation. “Oh, I can just imagine how much of a hardship it must have been,” she retorted. “To be the ducal heir and to have dozens of servants and so many other inferiors ready to serve your every need and obey your every command.”
He stiffened. “You will mind your tongue and rememb
er to whom it is you speak.” Anger blazed in his eyes, making them an even more vivid silver. “I am not only your superior but also your employer. You are here to obey my every command. Is that clear?”
She swallowed a desire to lash out at him, but something about this version of the Duke of Sunderford roused her survival instinct and put her on her guard. Instead of his usual state of drunken loutishness, this Sunderford seemed fully aware of the immense power and influence at his fingertips. It took every last bit of Isabel’s self-control to reply calmly and without emotion. “Very clear, Your Grace.”
“And just to make certain that we understand each other, it is I, and not you, who am the girls’ flesh and blood, as well as their guardian. As such, I will decide what is appropriate for them. And that begins with their playing in here today. I will not have those children punished for it. Is that understood?”
“Yes.” She did not meet his gaze. “I understand perfectly.”
“Excellent. I hope you do because I do not tolerate insubordination.” He spoke to her as if she was the lowliest scullery maid. “You are dismissed.”
* * *
—
Sunny awoke the following morning to find that Smith, his valet, had been called away in the night.
“Gone?” Sunny asked, his voice creaky with sleep, when Dowding drew back the crimson bed hanging. “Where the devil did he go?”
“Mr. Smith’s mother has taken ill.” Dowding set down the tray containing Sunny’s ritual morning coffee and vinegar tonic on the bed beside his master. “He’s gone to see to her.”
He shot Dowding a grumpy look. “Don’t I compensate my valet well enough for him to hire someone to look after the old lady?”
“As I understand it, Mr. Smith is particularly fond of his mother. He prefers to personally see to her care.”
“It defies understanding.” Sunny arched his back and stretched his arms high, working out any sleep-induced stiffness. He couldn’t imagine anyone rushing to care for their mother when they could hire a capable person to do it.