“I shall never be able to play toy theater again!”
The last was issued by Joanna, who enacted a dramatic pose and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. The girl possessed the theatrics of an actress.
Mirabel ought to have presided over the morning introductions and Mirabel knew it. However, when she had returned to Tarlington House bearing an unanticipated guest, her children had already been abed. She had seen to it that the governess, Walters, had been made aware of the new arrival and seen him settled. Afterward, Mirabel had spent the remainder of the night in fitful tossing and turning in her bed, unable to sleep, thanks to one man.
But she would not think of Demon Winter now.
No, indeed. She would not think about his sensual smile or his deep voice or his intoxicating scent. Nor would she recall the way he made her feel whenever they were in proximity.Alive.And aflame.
So hopelessly, desperately, aflame.
She tamped down the unwanted longing. “Davy is our guest. We will treat him with the respect which he is due. However, Master Davy, you must be mindful of the rules in this household. No vulgar language and no thieving. You will address me as Your Grace. You shall call the rest of our assemblage as they are named: Stanhope, Lord Gideon, Lady Joanna, and Lady Octavia.”
“If you return my ruby earbobs, I shall allow you to call me Auntie Octavia as these other scamps do,” Octavia informed Davy with a wink.
“What if I don’t got ’em?” he asked.
Octavia’s eyes narrowed. “You and I both know you have them, you little rogue.”
Davy shrugged, then crossed his arms over his bony chest, his expression turning mulish. “Take me back to Lady Fortune.”
It occurred to Mirabel, quite for the first time, that Davy may not view her rescue of him as a boon. Rather, he may consider it quite the opposite. Before her was evidence of the difference in social strata for her children and this lad. He was clad in the clothing he had been wearing the evening before, though she had directed Walters to provide him with some of Percy’s garments. His hair was ill-cut, his speech was improper, and yet he was nearly of an age with her eldest son. Percy was already a duke, and Davy did not know the proper means of addressing a duchess.
“Do you wish to return to Lady Fortune?” she asked him softly, wondering if she had done more harm than good for him in bringing him to her home.
“Aye.” He tugged at his forelock, looking agitated. “I likes it there, My Grace.”
“Your Grace,” she tried again.
He scowled. “I already told you, I haven’t none.”
“You are mussing it up,” Joanna offered. “You must call MamaYour Grace, and you must sayI have notany, notI haven’t none.”
Davy flicked a dismissive glance in Joanna’s direction. “You’re scarcely older than a babe. I’ll not be ’eeding the likes of you.”
Joanna sniffed. “I want my theater.”
“What makes you think I’ve got it, My Grace?” he asked Joanna.
Mirabel’s daughter sighed, giving her golden curls a shake. “He is a hopeless cause, Mama.”
“Not as hopeless as he would have us believe,” Mirabel observed.
The lad had an elaborate act. That much was apparent. She could not discern how much of it was real and how much exaggerated for effect. She could not be certain he was thieving because it was a ruse or because he liked the attention he received when he was caught. Mayhap the lad could not help himself.
Either way, he had proven himself untrustworthy after just one night beneath her roof. He wanted to return to Lady Fortune. She was willing to give him his wish, with one condition.
Unfortunately, that condition meant she would need to face Mr. Demon Winter one more time.
“Lad,” she said softly, sinking to her knees before him. “If you want to be at Lady Fortune, I will be happy to return you. The reason I brought you here is because of the ill treatment you reported receiving there.”
Davy’s cheeks went ruddy, and he hung his head. “Aye, well, that…it weren’t as bad as what I said.”
“Wasn’t,” she corrected gently. “Were you thieving because you required the funds, Master Davy, or were you doing it because you enjoyed the thrill?”
He kicked at the Aubusson, still refusing to meet her gaze. “I didn’t need the blunt.”
But Mirabel had to be certain. “And Mr. Winter, he is fair to you?”
