“Daisy! Duke, heel,” a strong male voice commanded.
“I’d pay good money to see that.” Grace rose and hurried to the entrance hall. Both dogs stood by Worthington’s side and hundreds of children milled about.Chaos. She covered her eyes, looked again, and counted. Ten children? Two Great Danes? And Worthington. What was he doing here? “I don’t understand.”
His eyes smiled, and her heart tried to melt.
“Philip, Theodora, Mary, and you”—he pointed to a footman—“what’s your name?”
“Hal, my lord.”
“Yes, Hal. Take the dogs into the back garden. Walter, come with me.”
Walter detached himself from the crowd, glanced up at Grace, and hung his head. One eye was turning an interesting shade of purple, his shirt was torn, his hair was messy, and he appeared as if he’d been rolling around in the dirt.
Grace sighed. “Walter, what have you been doing?”
Worthington put his hand on Walter’s shoulder. “Nothing but a bit of cross and jostle work. If we can be private, Walter will explain.”
“Of course. My study.” Grace led them down the corridor. Once in her office, she offered Worthington a chair and sat behind her desk. Walter stood in front of the desk facing her.
He glanced at Worthington, who nodded.
Her brother swallowed and nodded back. “You see, it was like this. There was some other boy, and he was teasing Philip, then the other boy took Philip’s ball. And I decided to get it back, and he swung at me, so I swung back and the next thing I knew, we were fighting. I’m sorry my shirt got ripped.”
As hard as Walter was trying, he couldn’t keep his eyes from shining.Boys, all of them. She glanced at Worthington and raised her brows. “And how did you become involved?”
“I—um—I helped them get Daisy back.”
Oh, no.Grace widened her eyes. “What did she do?”
Walter grinned. “She got away from Hal and took off down the street. We gave chase, but then Matt told Duke to fetch her. Well, Duke didn’t exactly bring her back, but he did stop her.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she said, “Indeed, my lord, it seems I have you to thank for rescuing both my dog and my brother.”
“That’s not fair, Grace. I was doing fine. Just glaringly abroad.”
Worthington frowned. “What did I tell you about repeating that to your sisters?”
“But this is Grace,” Walter protested.
She gave a short laugh. “Walter, go get cleaned up. You didn’t start the fight, so I shan’t blame you.”
Grace shook her head as her brother left the room then turned her attention to Worthington. “Now, will you please tell me what actually happened? And what, pray, does ‘glaringly abroad’ mean?”
Chapter Eleven
Worthington grinned boyishly at Grace. “The term means that his arms were too wide. As for the rest of the fight”—he shrugged—“it was very much as your brother said. When I saw the clash, I broke it up, then sent a message that if Mr. Babcock, the other boy’s father, wished a precise accounting he could contact me. I gave my card to the lad’s nursemaid.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again. Ending the contretemps was helpful, but Worthington should not have sent his card. It indicated that he might have a right to—to. Grace couldn’t think about that now.
In her most repressive tone, she replied, “I thank you, but Walter is my responsibility.”
“After that I taught Walter some boxing moves.”
She struggled to keep her jaw from dropping. The dratted man acted as if she hadn’t said a word. What did he think he was doing? Gazing up at the ceiling for a moment, she blew out a puff of air. He should not involve himself with the children. It wouldn’t do for them to become attached to him. Nothing could come of it. Not for them and, most certainly, not for her.
Worthington’s heat, his scent, seemed to drift across the desk to her. Reminding her of how good it felt to be in his arms. God help her, all she wanted was for him to touch her. She would order him out of the house. Not seeing him was the only way she could retain her sanity.
The next thing she knew his strong arms lifted her from the chair and drew her close to him.
