“Connor.” The duke’s tone spoke volumes, making Grace hold her breath to keep from laughing.
“No one need wait,” Mr. Herbert announced. “Mrs. Beatrice can help the ladies, and I would be most pleased to assist you, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mettlestone,” the duke said, his discomfort with the entire situation unmistakable.
“Is something amiss, Your Grace?” Mrs. Beatrice toddled forward until she stood between him and Grace.
Grace turned away to grant the poor man a brief reprieve, making a show of examining a basket overflowing with hair ribbons.
“Sometimes, he is not always good at knowing what to say,” Sissy announced to one and all. “But we are trying to help him overcome that.”
“Susannah!” The duke retreated to the shop door, yanked it open, and pointed outside. “Into the carriage. Both of you. I shall join you once Mr. Mettlestone either confirms or denies your books have arrived. Any further outbursts, and we shall forgo our visit to the treat shop for ices. Understood?”
Grace’s heart went out to the children as they trudged outside, their little shoulders sagging. “They meant no harm,” she said before she could stop herself.
“Be that as it may…” The duke fixed her with the same scowl he’d gifted to her upon their first meeting, but this one seemed somehow softer, maybe even shaded with a little desperation. “They must learn that children are to beseen, not heard.”
“I disagree.” Grace rounded on him, moving a step closer. What was it about this man that made it impossible not to challenge him? “A child who is heard is a child who feels safe, secure, and loved.”
He stared at her, the muscles flexing in his strong jaw. It was dusted with the seductive promise of a beard that would be just as dark as his hair if he ever went unshaven. His hard gaze poured over her, reaching into her soul and testing her worth. She would be lying if she said she didn’t find it as thrilling as racing across an open meadow.
“Have you any children, Lady Grace?” he finally asked, his tone icy enough to cast a chill upon the warm summer’s day.
“I do not, Your Grace. Have you?”
“I have my brother and sister—”
“Yet you imply that becauseIhave no children of my own, only having siblings as you do, that any opinion I might possess on child rearing is sure to be inaccurate. Is that what you were about to say, Your Grace? I find that somewhat hypocritical.”
The same lovely shade of ruddiness he had achieved a few days ago crept up his neck above the fine linen of his perfectlytied cravat. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, opened it yet again, then just as quickly closed it.
“You wished to say something else, Your Grace?” She knew she shouldn’t taunt him, but doing so might just be worth the sacrifice of never wearing her adventuring clothes ever again. She just couldn’t resist picking at him.
“Gracie!” Joy hissed from behind her. “Have pity on the poor man or Chance will give us no peace whatsoever. You know they always stick together,” she added in a loud whisper.
“Lady Grace,” Mr. Herbert said, hovering like an anxious butterfly while poor Mrs. Beatrice leaned in, straining to hear what everyone was saying. “Might I interest you in some of our new banners? I am sure Lady Serendipity would find them most lovely for picnic decorations.”
Perhaps Grace had pushed the duke a little too hard. One look at Joy warned her that there would be a great deal of explaining to do during the walk home.Lovely. That would give her sister enough ammunition to extort whatever she wanted for the rest of the summer.
Grace offered the uncomfortably silent duke a conciliatory curtsy. “Good day, Your Grace.” She turned to Joy. “Come, sister. Let us leave His Grace to complete his shopping in peace. We have days before Aurora and Quill arrive. Plenty of time to find suitable baubles to entertain them.” She tossed a smile and a wave back at Mr. Herbert and Mrs. Beatrice. “Do send the banners to Serendipity. That will be one less worry for her. We shall return another day for Aurora and Quill’s baubles. Good day, dear friends!” Then she swept outside and lifted her face to the wind, hoping it would cool her cheeks.
“Tell me immediately,” Joy demanded as soon as she caught up with her. “Every bit of it. Now.”
*
She had madehim look the fool. Again. Wolfe stared at the shop door, rooted to the spot like an infernal rabbit too terrified to move. He turned and glared at Mr. and Mrs. Mettlestone, witnesses to his shame. “By damn, this is the last time I allow that woman to get the better of me.”
Mr. Mettlestone appeared both apologetic and confused, as did his wife, even though the poor woman probably hadn’t heard half of what had been said. “Beg pardon, Your Grace?”
“How long do the Broadmeres normally summer here? The entire parliamentary recess or merely a few weeks?”
The shopkeepers exchanged hesitant glances. “Before the fourth duke and his wife passed, they remained here in Binnocksbourne for the entirety of the recess, not returning to London until late fall,” Mrs. Mettlestone said with a nervous shrug. “They so enjoyed the country. The lot of them did.”
“And now?” Wolfe glanced out the shop window to ensure Connor and Sissy were still waiting in the carriage.
Mr. Mettlestone gave a quick shake of his head. “What with the current duke anxious to marry all the sisters off, seems like their visits are sadly shorter each summer.”
Mrs. Mettlestone waved both hands as if swatting at an onslaught of midges. “That is quite enough, Mr. Mettlestone. Gossip about true friends is poor behavior indeed.” She forced a smile and a nod at the duke. “I fear your order has yet to come in, Your Grace. Surely the children’s books will arrive by next week. Will there be anything else we can help you with today?”
