“It’s Your Grace.”
“Yes. Right.” She stamped her foot. “I knew that. I am Miss Sybil Prim, Your Grace.”
“Are you, now?” he said, knowing full well she was not the Miss Prim he sought. But if her older sister was half as pretty as this girl would be one day, maybe this ill-conceived liaison wouldn’t be so dreadful as he was expecting. “I’m looking for Miss Louisa Prim.”
She huffed, the smile disappearing. “She’s in the book room.”
“I see,” he said. “Tell me, Miss Prim, do you always open the door?”
A mischievous glow lit her eyes, and her smile returned, wider now. “No,” she said quickly. “Sometimes I close it.” And with that she slammed the door shut. He heard a girlish giggle from the other side of the door and her footsteps running away.
Bray didn’t know whether to be amused by the imp’s brazen behavior or suspect of a family that let such behavior occur. He could understand a boy pulling a devilish prank like that. Lord knew he’d been a hellion at that age, but a girl? That surprised him.
He knocked on the door again, louder, in hopes one of the servants would hear him this time.
The door opened once more, but this time to a different young lady of perhaps fifteen or sixteen years of age. She was also blond with big blue eyes but obviously too young to be the Miss Prim he was seeking. Where was the butler, or the housekeeper? Even a chambermaid would do at this point.
“Good afternoon, sir,” she said politely. “May I help you?”
Hopefully this girl had a few more manners than the last, though that was one wager he wouldn’t waste good money on. “I’m the Duke of Drakestone here to see Miss Prim,” he said.
A flush heightened her cheeks and she smiled prettily at him and then curtsied. “I am Miss Lillian Prim, Your Grace.”
Her innocent mistake made him smile, and straightaway he realized the error was once again his. “Of course you are, but I am looking for Miss Louisa Prim.”
She gave a disappointed sigh. “She’s one of my older sisters.”
A door at the back of the house slammed so hard, it rattled the windowpanes. Bray heard the running of feet and high-pitched, toe-curling squeals.
Bray swore silently. “What was that sound?” he asked the girl.
“Another sister, Your Grace.”
“What in the name of Hades is wrong with her?”
The young lady blinked curiously. “Nothing, sir.”
“There should be something wrong if someone is going to scream like that.”
More shrieks were followed by the appealing laughter of a young lady. It was genuine amusement and happiness. It wasn’t the fake feminine delight he’d heard through the years at the hundreds of balls, dinners, and card parties he attended. It was more musical, more irresistible. That sound tightened his stomach.
The noise of merriment came closer. He saw a girl younger than the two he’d already met burst out of a doorway and bound down the corridor. Right behind her he caught a glimpse of a young lady reaching to grab her prey but missing just before the girl darted away.
“Give me that book right now,” the young lady called between bouts of laughter.
“No! It’s mine. You can’t have it!” The younger one screeched again and sprang across the corridor into another room with the lady on her heels. Bray didn’t think he had ever witnessed anything like it, girls running about like hoydens, banging doors and screaming in carefree delight. As an only child of two only children, he’d not interacted with females aside from his mother, his paramours, and simpering ladies at Society parties. He couldn’t imagine any one of them acting with such wild abandon.
Seconds later, the two ran out of another room and barreled into the vestibule where he and the other Miss Prim stood.
“Oh,” the young lady said as she skidded to a halt in front of him. Before she could catch her breath and speak, the younger child, who had kept running, crashed into her from behind, knocking her straight into Bray’s arms. He caught her by softly rounded shoulders before steadying her with his hands.
“Oh,” she repeated, this time after an intake of breath.
A whiff of her fresh-washed hair swept past him and he inhaled deeply the intoxicating scent. His gaze fell briefly on her breasts, and heat filled him.
Her blue eyes rounded in surprise when they met his. “Excuse me, sir,” she said, splaying her fingers on his chest while pushing away from him, clearly embarrassed.
Reluctantly, he let go of her.
