Page 89 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

“What traps are you worried about finding with me?”

“That’s just it, I cannot think of any. But I still need to get comfortable with the idea of us. Maybe I am worried you will suddenly decide that you do not love me. You would not be the first man to do so.”

Ah, Andrew Clement again.

Lord, he hated that man.

“I am too old and set in my ways to be fickle.” He glanced out the window. “Ah, we are almost at Milbury Hill. You must be exhausted, Gwen. So am I. How about we sleep away the rest of the morning? Separate quarters, of course.”

She nodded. “Oh, yes. I’ll have Agatha wake me in time for the afternoon swim. Would you mind giving me my first lesson today? Or would you rather hold off until tomorrow? Your boys must have missed you yesterday and might want you all to themselves.”

He grinned. “Are you serious? They are going to want you with us. My sons, especially Jordan, are at that age when they are noticing ladies. If anyone is expendable in their mind, it is me. Bring a heavy woolen robe, because those young pups are going to be ogling you.”

They parted ways upon reaching the manor house.

James took a moment to enter his study and review the latest correspondence piled on his desk. Fortunately, there was nothing urgent.

He then went in search of his sons, who were just coming downstairs for breakfast.

“Papa!” Robert cried, and hugged him fiercely.

James gave his son all the time he needed, for that desperate hug was a sign his youngest remained affected by the loss of a parent.

Jordan gave him a hug, too. “Did you find him, Papa?”

“No, the cur stayed away.”

Jordan glanced upward toward Gwendolyn’s bedchamber. “She must be so disappointed. But I’m glad for us. He doesn’t deserve her.”

James nodded. “Agreed. We stayed up all night hoping he would show his face. Gwendolyn is exhausted. She’s gone up to her bedchamber to sleep, hopefully not to cry over that wretched fellow. I’m dead on my feet and need sleep, too. Come wake me up for our afternoon swim, if I am not already awake by then.”

“Yes!” Robert cheered, for the lad needed his safe world put back in order.

“Behave yourselves in the meanwhile. Do not bother Gwendolyn. She’s going to join us for our swim.”

Jordan’s grin turned wolfish. “Mrs. Harting said she purchased two bathing costumes.”

James groaned. “Gwendolyn is a lady. You aren’t to leer at her, you little whelp.”

Jordan cast his father an innocent look. “I’ll look at her just the way you do, Papa.”

Ah, the lad had him well and truly checkmated. James could not chide the impertinent lad without admitting he was just as prone to ogling Gwendolyn as his sons were. “Behave. I do not want to be awakened by crashing noises.”

He gave each son a kiss on the head and then took the steps two at a time to his quarters.

Crawford was in his chamber and ready to take his clothes to be cleaned. “Shall I have a bath brought up for you, my lord?”

“Not yet. I need to sleep first. Just a shave once I wake up, then I’ll have my bath after my sons and I take our afternoon swim.”

He imagined Gwendolyn was giving Agatha similar instructions for herself.

But he thought no more about it as he stripped out of his clothes and fell naked into bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

After getting a solid four hours that fully revived him, he washed, had Crawford shave him, and then dressed and went downstairs to his study.

Mrs. Harting brought in a meal for him to scarf down while he worked. “Thank you,” he said, avidly eyeing the lamb stew because he was famished. “Is Lady Gwendolyn stirring yet?”

“No, my lord. Not yet.”