His response did nothing to deter the lady, however.
She nodded. “Close enough in age to my eldest son. I will be awaiting young Master Davy in my carriage, Mr. Winter. Do see that he is brought round.”
With that, she swept past Demon, quitting the chamber.
And Demon would be lying if he said he did not watch the sway of her hips as she took her leave.
Chapter 3
By breakfast the next morning, it had become apparent that Mirabel had misjudged her newest houseguest. In the cheerful gold salon she had always favored, she found herself surrounded by her children, her sister, and one Master Davy. Four voices sounded at once.
“My ruby earbobs are missing.”
“I cannot find Father’s signet ring.”
“My favorite wooden horse is gone.”
“Where is my toy theater?”
Her children and Octavia were not alone in their sudden losses. Mirabel’s silver hairbrush had also disappeared.
There was only one reasonable suspect. And she had brought him to Tarlington House the evening before in what she could now acknowledge had perhaps been a mistake.
“Davy,” she said slowly, addressing the adorable tow-headed lad. “Haveyouanything missing?”
He grinned, showing a missing tooth. “Just me front cog.”
Dear God.Was cog another word for tooth?
Mirabel sighed. “Do you recall the discussion we had on the carriage ride here last evening, Master Davy?”
“Aye.”
Patience, Mirabel. Have patience for this lad, who has neither mother nor father in his life.
“And what was the discussion?” she prodded gently.
“I’m to follow your rules, My Grace.”
“YourGrace,” Mirabel reminded.
“My Grace?” His brow wrinkled and he appeared endearingly befuddled, even if he was a perpetual thief. “I ain’t got none.”
She suppressed a sigh. The child was quick-witted—that much was apparent. She did not know if he was feigning confusion to fluster her or if he was in earnest. But she would have to settle for the latter.
“I am a duchess, Davy,” she pressed on. “To address me with the proper respect, you must call meYourGrace notMyGrace.”
Davy scratched his head, leaving a hank of hair comically askew. “Confusing is what all this fancy shite is. I were happy at Lady Fortune, ma’am. That I were. You can take me back. I promise I’ll never bite your ring again.”
Biteher ring?Good heavens, where to begin?
Before she could formulate a proper response, the voices of her children and Octavia rose once more, creating a cacophony that was sufficient to give anyone a blistering case of the megrims.
“Never say you found the source of your missing ring and decided to bring him here so that he may linger beneath this roof and rob us further,” her sister drawled.
“Why is he here?” demanded Percy.
“I want my horse!” shouted Gideon.
