Page 40 of A Mother for the Blind Duke’s Orphans

Poppy’s amusement died as His Grace’s grip tightened slightly on his cane. His eyes moved toward the child, then away again, and his mouth remained in a hard line.

“I would speak with the duchess in private,” he finally said.

The duchess. The title, spoken in that emotionless voice, felt less like an honor than a summons.

Poppy climbed out first, awkwardly but without apology. She helped Aurora after her, then kneeled to straighten the child’s sleeve. “Go with the maid for a moment.”

Aurora clutched her hand. “Poppy⁠—”

“I am not leaving.”

“But—”

“I promised.”

Aurora looked toward His Grace, then back at Poppy.

“Go on.” Poppy coaxed her and squeezed her fingers.

The maid, now subdued, led Aurora away, who glanced back twice before disappearing behind the corridor. Poppy rose and faced the duke, who stood several feet away, posture rigid, and cane planted beside him. He did not look into her eyes. His gaze was fixed somewhere near her shoulder, then shifted to the wall beyond, and returned to the vague space between them.

“Aurora is frightened,” Poppy said before he could begin.

“That does not excuse her hiding in a cupboard.” His frown deepened further.

“It was a closet.”

His jaw ticked with annoyance at her correction. “Do you find this amusing, Poppy?”

She shuddered at the sound of her name on his lips.

“No. I do not. But I did find Aurora frightened, and I find you displeased, and I find myself unsurprised by both.”

His eyes narrowed faintly, though still not upon hers. “I asked to speak with you, not to be assessed.”

“Then speak.” The words came sharper than prudence allowed.

The duke’s cane tapped once against the floor, not loudly, but enough to mark restraint. “Young ladies should not be encouraged to hide in cupboards.”

For a ridiculous moment, Poppy was pleased that he had said it without mockery.

Young ladies. He had given them dignity even while condemning their conduct.

Perhaps I shall not mention that it is a closet again.

“Your Grace, may I remind you that these girls are like your daughters now and you need to make an effort for them.” A tense silence followed.

Poppy was starting to wonder why he refused to look at her.

The duke cleared his throat and spoke sternly. “I brought you here to care for the children, not to teach me how to live.”

“I am just trying to help. And you cannot merely provide rooms and meals and rules and call that effort.”

His eyes shifted past her, unfocused and pale, avoiding the direct challenge of her gaze. “You presume a great deal for someone who has known my household for one day.”

“I have known the children longer.”

“And so you believe yourself entitled to instruct me?” The quietness of his voice did more than anger would have.