“No, Ashbrook, she can stay. I like little girls filled with curiosity. I’m blessed with this boy, but a little pretty girl added to my battalion would be delightful.”
Hope stood up and wobbled until she made it to the duke’s chair. He picked her up and put her on his knee.
She promptly swatted and jiggled the medals hanging from his scarlet regimentals like Lionel did.
This gruff duke, who’d been nothing but suspicious of Daniel, was pudding to Hope, smiling more than he’d ever seen.
The duke patted her head, then lifted Lionel higher in his arms, “You’re going to marry my little Jemina?”
Daniel straightened as if called to attention. “Yes.”
Repington unpinned a medal and gave it to Hope.
She swung the gold medallion by the ribbon, reminding Daniel of how he swung his watch fob. Willingham and associate took his. There was no replacing it.
“He’s marrying my mama.” Hope clapped her hands.
Lionel gurgled and drooled, perhaps approving the statement.
“You’re very sure of this, Ashbrook? I was under the impression that you two were at odds. I’m not convinced this is right.”
“You’re claiming Mrs. St. Maur now too, Your Grace? I thought she was a grown woman who knew her own mind.”
“The woman is family. She’s like a sister to my wife. You know the duchess has lost hers.”
“On a boat?” Hope peered up, her eyes big like hot-air balloons.
“No, Miss Thackery.” The duke’s voice softened. “They were lost in a land far away. My inquiries have come up with nothing. Ashbrook, Jemina St. Maur might as well be a Strathmore. Maybe we can exchange for another . . . like Lady Bodonel?”
Fidgeting, Daniel flicked at an alabaster button on his jade waistcoat. “Pardon, Your Grace? I don’t understand.”
“Never mind, Barrister. There’s probably no legal precedence for swapping relatives.” He drummed the side arm of his wheeled chair.
Lionel followed suit, clanking his medals and offering a one-tooth grin. “Pa.” He bubbled spittle. “Wel-ton.”
“No, but close, son.” The duke beamed as if the babe were a prized cannon or a vanquished enemy or the duchess’s famous coconut bread. “Here, Ashbrook, hold Lionel a moment.”
He offered up the boy, and Daniel took him. The boy was tanned with ears that looked a little like the duke’s. What would a son between Daniel and Jemina look like?
This would be a full marriage. Potentially, there could be more Thackerys.
Setting Hope to the floor, the duke stood. The articulating knee of his carved limb made a slight click as he lifted to his full height. He stuck out his hand. “You will be kind to her. I can still muster an army if needed.”
“Repington, I think I’m more afraid of your wife and my bride teaming up for revenge. They are fast masterminds.”
“Then you understand. You have my blessings.”
Daniel didn’t need anyone’s blessing but Jemina’s, though having the duke’s was good.
“Come, I think they have set the nuptials for the parlor.”
Repinning his medal from Hope, the duke led the way. Daniel’s little girl tried to march, then flopped down and crawled behind him. Her pink dress with the rosebush-red collar looked marvelous and festive.
As they moved to the grand hall, the person he’d been waiting to arrive entered the house.
“Lady Shrewsbury,” Daniel said, “just on time.”
The whirlwind came straight toward him. “Daniel, may I see you for a moment?”
