“Murphy is actually quite a darling,” she said, dispatching her cup. “As long as you do not try to interfere with Lully or Jamie, in any way.”
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. I told you that Georgie is 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.
“Herlife?”
Briefly she closed her eyes. “Our lives, then. The locals see her as my brother’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 have 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.”
“Georgie, I have the power to take her with me whether you agree or not. I would rather not have to. I want you to know, though, that she will always be safe.”
As if fate had simply been waiting for that boast, suddenly Georgie heard Murphy. He wasn’t barking as if he was playing. 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.
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, than from fear.
Georgie saw Lully’s coat first, that bright splash of red lying 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, that someone trying his hardest to reach the wall.
