Page 50 of His Improper Lady

“You have to admit, it was sound advice.”

At that moment, there was the sound of footsteps in an odd rhythm, and a moment later a little girl came galloping into the room. She stopped with a whinny in front of the duke and duchess.

“Athena!” Henry said with delight. “Are you a horse now?” She nodded, and he went on, “Well, that’s a very fine thing to be.”

She leaned against his leg, abandoning her animal act, and the duke lifted her onto his lap. “Where is your sister?”

“Brigid’s slow,” Athena told him.

At that moment a smaller girl came into the room in a crouched stance, holding her hands like claws and swiping them through the air. “I’m a tiger.” She followed her sentence with a roar.

There were a few minutes of confusion as the girls made their rounds of the room, giving kisses and collecting sweets. A couple strolled into the room in the midst of it. The man was very tall and broad shouldered, with black hair beginning to gray at the temples. He was immediately recognizable as a close relative of Con and Alex. The woman with him was small and dressed in a trim skirt and jacket of blue, which Desiree admired. Her cinnamon hair was done up in a simple bun, and her reddish-brown eyes twinkled.

“Theo, love. And Megan dear.” The duchess rose to greet them. “Come and sit down. You must meet Miss Malone. We think she’s a new member of the family.” She turned to Desiree.

Desiree’s heart skipped a beat at the older woman’s words. Had she really accepted her so easily? With no protest or suspicion? Desiree thought she herself would have been slower to accept the sudden arrival of a hitherto unknown relative.

“Theo and his sister are my older set of twins,” the duchess explained to Desiree. “And this is his lovely wife, Megan.”

More twins?

“A new Moreland? How is that?” Theo looked as intrigued as Con and Alex had. His wife, on the other hand, had a certain wariness in her eyes. Here was the suspicion that Desiree had expected.

“We think she may be Alistair Moreland’s daughter,” Emmeline said. When Theo raised his brows in mute inquiry, his mother added, “Cousin Gregory’s father.”

“You don’t say.” Theo’s green eyes went back to Desiree thoughtfully. “Does Cousin Gregory know this?”

“No, I’ve never spoken to him,” Desiree said. “Until the past few minutes, I’d no idea who Alistair Moreland was.”

“I shall hold a dinner,” Emmeline said decisively. “To introduce you to the family.”

“Mother, I don’t understand,” Theo began.

“Of course you don’t. We have just now had the opportunity to meet this lovely young woman, whose father callously abandoned her and her brother, not only not acknowledging them but not providing for them. Leaving them in the poverty and crime of the East End. It was a monstrous thing to do. And for a Moreland to do such a thing!”

Desiree watched in fascination as the Duchess of Broughton held forth, her voice growing more impassioned, her eyes fierier as she expounded on her subject. Desiree’s gaze went to the mild-mannered duke sitting beside Emmeline, admiration glowing in his eyes as he watched his duchess. Desiree glanced around the room at the other occupants. Bellard was cheerfully munching his cake and nodding at the duchess’s words; Megan was frowning; and the duchess’s three sons had similar expressions of amused resignation.

“Mother,” Theo said when Emmeline paused for breath. “I’m not at all sure that a dinner with all the family would be a good thing. Cousin Gregory...”

“No, no, dear, of course not him and Tabitha, nor the whole outlying family. Just us.” She waved her hand vaguely toward the rest of them. “Henry’s and my children and their spouses. Olivia and Stephen are in town now. They’re staying with Kyria and Rafe. It’s a pity Reed and Anna are at Winterset, but all the rest of you children are in London.” She turned to Desiree. “Do say you and your brothers will come. Did you say you had two of them?”

“Yes, but my oldest brother, Brock, is our half brother. He has a different father.” Desiree felt a blush creeping into her cheeks. It made it sound as if her mother was a doxy, not caring whom she slept with. But this seemed not to faze the duchess in the least.

“We would love to meet him, too. He’s part of your family, after all.”

Desiree beamed. “You’re very kind. Yes, I would love to meet the rest of your family, and I’ll give my brothers your invitation.”

“But, Duchess,” Tom spoke up. “We cannot be certain that Alistair Moreland was Miss Malone’s father. Let me investigate this a bit further first.”

It hurt that Tom still refused to believe that Desiree was telling the truth. After that kiss, she would have thought he’d feel more kindly toward her. But it was foolish to expect that; all he had said was that he desired her, not that he held any regard for her. Besides, that was all she felt for him, as well. Wasn’t it?

“Dear Tom.” Emmeline smiled at Tom benignly. “You are so good to want to shield us. But what harm is there in a little social gathering? We can’t be certain, of course, that Miss Malone is our relative, but she is an interesting young woman, and no doubt her brothers are, as well. I’m sure everyone in the family will enjoy meeting them. Besides, Smeggars will be so happy to have a social occasion to plan.”

This latter point seemed to settle the matter. Desiree wondered who Smeggars was that his happiness was so important. She discovered that a moment later when the butler entered the room, carrying a large silver tray of more tea and sandwiches. When the duchess told him of her plans, his eyes lit up with an almost religious zeal, and he bustled out of the room with great purpose.

As more tea was served and food passed about, Megan sat down, taking her youngest daughter onto her lap, and saying, “Duchess, I still don’t understand exactly what has happened.”

The older woman launched forth upon the tale of Desiree’s birth and background, aided now and then by comments and further explanations from the other Morelands. It seemed to Desiree that her story sounded much more dramatic and compelling in the Morelands’ retelling.