“Fret not, cabin boy, your secret’s safe with me.” She gave him a wink.
“Just you wait, Lydia, a mutiny might be closer than you think.” Archer grinned at her.
“There they are! They were right! The last person to spot the island says they saw giant black bunnies as big as horses! They are so fluffy!” Iris squealed, so overly excited she was shaking. “I want one!”
“Iris,” a voice said, “there’s no such thing as a bunny as big as a house.” A fierce-looking woman in a gray dress stood in the doorway watching them. “I’m afraid it’s time for her studies, Your Grace.”
Archer sighed as he got up. “Come on, Iris. Playtime is over.”
“But I don’t want to,” Iris pouted.
Lydia was about to interject when she remembered what Archer had said about not interfering. She bit her tongue and watched as he bent down to speak to his niece.
“Come little one, you know you need to go for your lessons, so you can grow up and know all manner of clever things, just like your aunts.” He gave her a dazzling smile.
“I suppose.” Iris glanced at Miss Boyd and then whispered in that childish way that ensured that everyone could hear, “But I don’t like Miss. Boyd.”
Lydia gave the woman an apologetic look, but she appeared unmoved by the child’s comment.
“That’s not very nice to say, Iris.” Archer chided gently. “Now, run along and go to your lessons.”
“Okay.” Iris sagged and followed Miss Boyd from the room.
“You’re really very good with her,” Lydia observed as they left.
“You sound surprised.” Archer arched an eyebrow at him.
“If I had not seen it myself, I do not think I ever would have imagined you would play quite so indulgently with her,” Lydia teased him. “Cabin boy.”
She began to tidy up the room, expecting Archer to leave or to tell her that the servants could do it, but to her surprise, he bent down and began to help. She shot him a quizzical look.
“I try and make a point of tidying up when Iris and I play together. To model good behavior. We may have servants, but I do not want her thinking that making a mess and then expecting them to clean it up is an acceptable way to behave..” Archer shrugged as he scooped several cushions into his arms.
“You really are unusual.” Lydia canted her head towards him, lips pursed. “Most men of any noble rank, let alone a duke, would not concern themselves with such things.”
“And most duchesses would not either,” Archer pointed out.
“I am barely a duchess.”
“No.” Archer’s voice was firm. “You are every bit a duchess. You aremyduchess.”
Her heart skipped, and her eyes met his. “In name at least.”
“In the eyes of the ton, that is all that matters,” he replied.
Their fingers brushed as they each reached for the same pillow, and he jerked his hand away. Heat flushed through Lydia as he stood and moved to the other end of the room. “I’ll put away the books. You just take care of the pillows and blankets, and her toys go back in her toy box.”
Lydia nodded and began putting away the small armada of toys, but she stopped when she saw Archer putting the books back on the shelf without any apparent organization.
“How on Earth do you find anything?” Lydia asked, frowning. Her fingers itched to take the books from him and rearrange things, but then she remembered the coldness that lay beneath his warm mask, and she stopped.
“I have a system,” he explained, trying to keep some emotion in check.
“It doesn’t look like any system I have ever seen.” Lydia frowned at him. “They don’t even seem to be organized in by genre.”
“That’s because it is the Iris classification system.” He grinned at her perplexed look. “These are ones that I am happy for her to pull down from shelves. These are those that really are not suitable for her to read, but that she seems to always discover. These are her favorite bedtime books.”
“You really do adore her.” Lydia smiled at him.
