One to covet in my heart.
I shook my head and coughed. “Sir. I mean, Your Grace. I think the baby needs to be fed now.”
The man seemed to startle, pulling at his blanket to cover his leg as if that was indecent, not his naked chest with the curls of hair peeking over the lapel of his robe. “Who’s there?”
I came around to the side of the bed where the curtains parted. “Your Grace, I’m here to help.”
“A washerwoman? Barging in.” His gaze seemed to travel the length of me, but there was nothing wrong with my maid’s outfit. The blue checked cotton was pressed, unassuming, and clean beneath my white apron.
The duke huffed. “I’m not sure how Markham had his staff trained to awaken him, but there have been a number of changes to Hamlin this past night.”
Nose wrinkling at the fiend’s name, I stood up straight. “I’m no washerwoman.”
He glanced my direction again before lowering his face toward Lionel. “Well, whoever you are, you need to leave. You’re no longer employed.”
“Is the boy wet, sir? I see he’s bundled in a . . . shirt?”
“One of my best, and I don’t think so. He’s hungry. I’ve sent a footman to find the cows. He’ll have milk soon. His first feeding will be . . .”
The duke reached for a watch on the nightstand. “In another twenty minutes. Now please go.”
I reached my arms out. “I’m sure he’s hungry, Your Grace. I can help.”
Lionel started crying and seemed to lift his hands as he’d done for me last night. He surely heard my voice and remembered.
“See, miss, you’ve gotten him out of order again.” The duke took his big thumb and waved it over Lionel.
The baby grabbed it and suckled the digit.
“The boy and I are friends. If you were a washerwoman, I’d hope you were good at stains. That’s the second shirt the boy’s used, and his side of my mattress might need to be attended, too.”
“The babe slept in here with you?”
The duke glanced up with a smile of pride. “Like I said, we’ve gotten to know each other. Now if you don’t mind. Well, look at that. His eyes have changed like my cousin’s. They’re a darker hazel now.”
My father’s eyes were also hazel. Who should take credit for this? “Sir—”
With a boom, the doors of the bedchamber flung open. The countess, Jemina, and two soldiers stood there.
The duke shuffled the sheets about his one leg stuck in the blanket. His other foot dangled as if poised to toss on the boots lined perfectly by the bed.
“Men, return to your posts. I can handle women in my bedchamber.”
The soldiers laughed and left. The doors shut with a thud.
“Lady Shrewsbury? Does this woman belong to you?”
“Duke, she’s one of the servants I have brought to recommend to you. No, don’t rise, you seem to have your hands full.”
“I hadn’t intended, ma’am, since this is my bedchamber and you are intruding.”
He glanced in my direction as he played with Lionel’s little palm. “Normally, so many lovely ladies in my private chambers is a goal, but not in front of my ward. These days, I have to have more moral goals.”
The man preened like a proud papa tweaking my Lionel’s nose.
“Lady Shrewsbury, can you please lead this beautiful harem away from my bedchamber? Hmmm, words I never thought I’d utter.”
The countess cast pained eyes at me as she passed and stopped at the bed table. “Mrs. Kelly, the young woman you sent to me, says you’ve fired your staff. You’ll need help, particularly with that bundle in your arms.”
