“Well, it’s good LaCroy doesn’t work for Napoleon. Bony elbows are definitely a torture.”
Bony? There wasn’t a bony thing about me. Pregnancy assured that.
When I looked up to sneer at him, I noticed the duke, truly noticed him, beyond his looks. The man was in the same position, half reclining, folded arms, brooding. Something was wrong.
I shifted my greedy boy. “The countess has letters of recommendation. If you can forgive my clumsiness, Your Grace, I . . . We will serve you well. We will be loyal.”
“Loyal? I do value loyalty and honesty.”
His stare was strong, almost a summons to come back to him.
The only man I owed such scrutiny was dead. I refused to lower my eyes or demure to him. I returned his glances with boldness.
The duke dragged himself higher, working his shoulders and pulling closer to the carved headboard, but he sank into the mattress. “You’re forgiven, LaCroy. Lionel has forgiven you. He sounds content slurping.”
My boy was. And I was. I rested in this moment for I knew it would not last.
His Grace played with the belt of his robe, tugging and twirling the fine burgundy brocade fabric, but still he hadn’t moved.
“Ladies, go downstairs. When I’ve had a shave and am fully dressed, we can discuss employment.”
Lady Shrewsbury started pulling down the sheer curtains, then motioned to Jemina to do the same. “These will need to be scrubbed, too. And that boy needs mother’s milk daily. Look how scrawny he is. No pap solution of cow’s milk will do. That’s what I wrote to you.”
Wrote to him advice about caring for my Lionel? The countess hadn’t mentioned that part last night. I bristled but stayed silent.
The duke wiped at his chin. “Two young women in a house of soldiers is not wise. But I’ve never been wise about women. Fine, you’re both hired. Now leave. Wait. Who am I hiring besides LaCroy?”
Shrewsbury lifted Jemina’s chin. “This is Mrs. St. Maur. She’ll be a maid. And she’ll get to your sheets straightaway.”
Jemina curtsied. “I’m good in the kitchen, but Mrs. LaCroy is skilled in bread, sir.”
“I’m sure she’s good at many things. Many hidden talents.”
I patted Lionel, and he offered me a man-size burp.
Proud of him, I fastened up my tunic. “Thank you again, Your Grace.”
“Fine. Ladies, I assume Lady Shrewsbury can show you how to begin your duties here at Hamlin. You visited with my grandfather quite a lot and attended my mother’s parties.”
“Lady Bodonel did throw some nice parties, and the late duke was quite a man. The widower would’ve made a nice husband for me. Your father was a good man, too.”
Anger smoldered in his eyes as if the countess had dressed him down. I didn’t understand that, but I felt the fire of his mood across the room.
The countess tugged Jemina toward the door. “As I remember correctly, the nursery is above us on the third floor. Mrs. LaCroy, you’ll serve as a wet nurse and nanny.”
“Mrs. LaCroy, Lionel Jordan will need care day and night . . . But what of your child if you live here?”
“My child?” I didn’t want to lie. Lionel was in my arms. How could I deny him?
I lifted my eyes to the countess.Help.
“Duke,” Lady Shrewsbury said, “it’s painful for Mrs. LaCroy to talk of this, but the child is no longer hers to love. Gone.”
The duke’s grimace became deeper. “Sorry, ma’am.”
His pity-filled voice burned my ears. I liked his flirty commands better. Snuggling Lionel, I held him close to my cheek. “I’ll work hard. And it will be my honor to serve Lionel Jordan . . . and you. This boy will have a bath of lavender and a fresh napkin. I fear, he’s in the process of soiling this shirt, too.”
Repington folded his arms. “Ladies, I have quite a few soldiers in residence—”
