“My father is dead,” Cecily muttered. “No one will come looking for me.”
Upon hearing that, Mrs. Barnes’ frown deepened, and she shook her head. “Well, that makes it worse. Two young girls with no father to protect them, carried off in the night…” She tutted. “Well, I tell you now, Your Grace, there will be no mischief with this young woman while I am under this roof. It is one thing to dally with rich widows and married ladies who are no better than they should be, but you shouldn’t dally with…”
Nathaniel chuckled again.
Did nothing ever faze him? Was he immune to all normal human feelings?
Cecily was tempted to shout at him for this fresh show of obtuseness, but then she remembered how he had reacted to the bruises on her arm and bit her lip.
No, he was capable of ordinary human feeling, sometimes.
“Mrs. Barnes, I promise you that Miss Holt will leave Greyhaven Park tomorrow in the same state as she enters it. I also have a marriage license in my pocket, which you are welcome to inspect if you wish. You know that I am a man of my word.”
Another shiver of surprise and anticipation ran through Cecily at his words. He must have gone out immediately after her call at noon and obtained a marriage license from the Archbishop of Canterbury. For all his show of indolence and carelessness, it seemed that when he wanted something, he could be remarkably determined.
Did he truly want her that much?
The housekeeper gave a long sigh, a smile lurking in her eyes despite her determination to show her disapproval. “You are a man of your word, Your Grace, and must do as you think best. It is not my place to judge you, is it?”
“No, but I would not be the same without it,” the Duke said cheerfully. “Now, have a room and a bath prepared for Miss Holt, please, and then come to my study before you retire. You must tell me everything you know about Patrick’s movements. We will be leaving early in the morning.”
“Of course. Well, welcome to Greyhaven Park, Miss Holt. You must be exhausted from the journey. Will you have supper on a tray?”
Cecily shook her head, eager to rest and get the morning over with. She followed the Duke and his housekeeper inside.
They had barely crossed half the hallway when the shouts of a child preceded an angry little whirlwind that ran barefoot down the stairs and beat its fists against Nathaniel’s legs.
“Papa, Papa!” the little girl cried out. “You are finally here!”
Struck dumb, Cecily could only stare at the scene in consternation.
Papa?!
CHAPTER 10
Seeming puzzled more than angry, the Duke detached the child’s fists and spoke to her as though she were an adult rather than a tiny girl of around seven.
“Lilian! What are you doing here at this hour? You know very well that you should be in bed, asleep, at the dower house.”
The girl’s dark hair and furious blue eyes revealed her parentage even more than the way she had addressed him.
At the top of the stairs, another woman in a thick flannel dressing gown called Lilian’s name ineffectually and was completely ignored.
“I wanted to sleep here in case you came and went away without telling me again. Uncle Patrick came yesterday, but he would not even play with me!”
“Miss Osborne,” the Duke said to the woman on the staircase. “Lilian ought to be asleep. Please take her back to bed now and do not let her wander about the house at night like this.”
“No, I will not go to bed yet! Look at me!” Lilian protested, grabbing again at her father and clearly jealous of the slightest attention given to anyone else in the room. “I want to have cake!”
“Cake? It’s the middle of the night!” the Duke responded with bemusement rather than the patient firmness that would have been more appropriate, in Cecily’s view.
“I always want cake at night!”
“Well, you can’t have any cake at this hour.”
“I want cake!” Lilian demanded again, pouting and stamping her small foot.
Why did he not just put his child to bed instead of arguing with her about cake? But then, why was Cecily troubling herself with this more minor question rather than the most fundamental of them all?
