“No intrusion at all, my lord.” Serendipity waved the other men over. “You have evened the odds for the men. They will be most grateful.”
Nodding at Chance, Merry said, “My brother, the Duke ofBroadmere. Chance, these are our champions from the storm, Lord Kirkston and his brother, Lord Malcolm Galloway.”
“Your Grace.” Duncan dipped another polite nod.
“I owe you a great debt of gratitude for saving my sisters. Welcome to Broadmere Hall.” Chance cringed as one of the children squealed. “Currently, the seventh level of hell.”
Malcolm laughed, but Duncan looked as though he agreed.
Wishing she could think of a way to ease him into the clutches of her large family, Merry soldiered on with the introductions. “Next is Blessing, and the man behind her chair is her husband, Thorne—Lord Knightwood. Next to her is Fortuity and her husband, Matthew—Lord Ravenglass. Next is Grace and her husband, Wolfe, the Duke of Wolfebourne. Then there is Joy and her husband, Jansen, Sir Jansen Winterstone. And last but far from least is Felicity and her husband, Drake, Lord Wakefield.”
“What about us?” demanded five-year-old Rorie with grave indignation.
“Line up in birth order, and then I believe it is nursery time.” Merry hated to send the children away, but one could hardly hear oneself think with all the noise.
The oldest children groaned but grudgingly lined up as requested.
Merry named them off, one by one: “Connor and Sissy, Rorie, Quill, Remy and Gwynnie, Ross, and Lion.” She smiled at her sister Felicity. “And our next little niece or nephew shall be introducing himself or herself later this year.”
Serendipity rang the bell beside her glass on the table. “Nannies!”
Grace snapped her fingers at the six dogs milling around the room with the children. “Go with the babies, my loves.”
“We are not babies!” Rorie corrected her, her little face a thunderous storm cloud.
“Come along now,” eleven-year-old Sissy said. “If we misbehave, we won’t get to play in the parlor anymore.”
Once Sissy and the army of nannies successfully herded the children and dogs from the room, Merry waved Duncan and Malcolm to the table. “Do join us, please. We have delicious lemon cake, lemonade, ratafia, and much more to come.” She so wanted the men to feel welcome, most especially Duncan.
Malcolm took a seat and made himself comfortable.
As stiffly as if his clothing had been overly starched, Duncan sat on the edge of a chair. Merry slipped into the seat beside him.
He immediately turned to her with a pained look. “Again, I am so verra sorry. We should have stayed at the inn and sent over a messenger to find out when would be an appropriate time to call.”
Pleased that he was actually here, Merry boldly took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I am glad you are here.” She couldn’t help but smile as she glanced at the disarray of the room. “I know it must have felt as though you stepped into the middle of a storm, but now you’ve met all of us—and all of us are grateful to have you as a guest.” She squeezed his powerful hand again, noting how hers disappeared in his. It made her feel safe. Leaning in close, she lowered her voice. “I feared I would never see you again.”
“Ye wished to see me again?” he asked just as quietly.
“Well, of course I did.” She stood and motioned for him to join her. “Come to the windows with me and look at the snow on the terrace. It is more peaceful on that end of the room.”
“Merry?” Serendipity cleared her throat.
“We are merely going over to the windows, Seri. We have overwhelmed our guests with our boisterous ways.”
“I am fine. Really.” But Duncan didn’t seem fine at all. He looked like a man headed for the gallows.
“I shall remain here at the table and regale them with tales from our childhood,” Malcolm promised with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
Duncan’s face reddened, so Merry hurried him along toward the quietness waiting at the far end of the room, where no toys, toddlers,or dogs had ravaged it. “I am quite certain that anything your brother says can be topped by our youthful escapades. For instance, if any of us angered Blessing, her favorite revenge was filling our beds with frogs.”
“Frogs?”
“Or eels from the kitchen if her frog hunting proved unsuccessful.” Merry pointed out the little birds pecking the terrace’s banister, which had been swept free of snow. “We spread some grains so the children could watch the birds, but I don’t believe they even noticed them.”
Duncan nodded at a pair of small, shadowy figures slinking along the garden wall. “It appears yer cats have noticed.”
“Gerald will shoo them away.” She tugged on Duncan’s sleeve, drawing him closer to the window. “See? Over there with the broom? He loves to feed the birds and considers himself their protector.” It was so lovely having Duncan for a visit that she was nearly beside herself. She really needed to calm down and stop being so silly. Good heavens, one would think she’d never had a visitor before. “There he goes. I hope he doesn’t slip and fall.”
