Page 72 of The Devil to Pay

His grace, who had taken the wriggling Dinah from her mother’s lap, settled the little girl in his own. His granddaughter immediately snuggled against him without a murmur.

“Quite right,” he said, unperturbed as the child simultaneously sucked her thumb and held tight to his lapel. “Though Jules wasn’t bossy, he was just extremely naughty.”

“I resent that remark,” Jules replied, affecting a look of reproach.

“Stow it. You were the worst.”

Jules looked around to see his cousin Hart standing beside him. He was observing the two boys playing with the bricks. His expression was unreadable, but something like regret flickered in his eyes and Jules felt a pang of guilt that his own childhood had been so idyllic. Hart had been born in the workhouse, and his existence before Minerva and Inigo had adopted him at six years old, was something of which he would never speak. Still, at least now he could join in the jollity of a chaotic family Christmas. Well, as much as Hart ever did. Jollity wasn’t really his thing. Nor was joining in, come to that. Jules hoped he was enjoying himself and this wasn’t the trial he made it out to be.

At least Fred was finally settled. His beloved Aggie had returned to him at last, after disappearing for years, and the family had celebrated their marriage just days earlier. The relief of knowing his younger brother was happy and loved and had a wonderful future ahead of him was a great weight from Jules’ shoulders, and he finally understood just how much worry he’d caused his own father. Jules would move heaven and earth for this family, he realised, and be glad to do it.

The butler arrived then, announcing that tea was ready, assuming anyone could eat another bite after the magnificent dinner Selina had arranged for them with their excellent housekeeper. Everyone began to file out with good humoured murmuring and laughter, but Selina caught his eye then and made a ‘go on’ motion towards his father who had not yet moved.

Jules swallowed anxiously and made a face back. Selina widened her eyes at him, which he correctly interpreted as ‘don’t you dare back out now, or I shall have something to say to you.’

Giving it one last go, Jules sent her puppy dog eyes and a pout. She remained unsurprisingly unimpressed. With a sigh, Jules steeled his nerves and went to the Christmas tree, where one small present had not yet been given out.

He picked up the prettily wrapped parcel and carried it over to his father.

“Sir, before we go into tea, there is something else I would like to give you,” he said, aware his voice was a little unsteady.

His father looked up, surprised. Careful not to jostle his granddaughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms, he reached for the present.

“Well, I’m very spoiled this year,” he said, grinning at Jules.

Jules looked around as his mother appeared beside him, clutching at his arm. She stared at him hard, one eyebrow quirking. He wondered when he had learned to communicate with the women in his life without saying a word, but nodded. His mother’s grip on his arm tightened, and he heard her let out a faint squeal of excitement.

“Good heavens!” his father said, staring at the book in his hand. “The Lady Conquers All. I thought this wasn’t supposed to be published until February.”

Jules cleared his throat nervously. “Er… No. But the author gets early copies to approve them and… well. There you go and… it’s signed. By the er… author.”

“Why, this is splendid! Thank you, son. I’ve so enjoyed the author’s other works these past years. Very imaginative and so well written. I thought The Jewel and the Iron Key was not the best of them, if I’m honest, but the last couple since then have been excellent too.”

“So I’ve heard,” Jules muttered, sending his wife a rueful glance and rolling his eyes. He watched as his father turned to the place where the signature was and paused.

“I thought you said the author signed it?” he said, looking up at Jules, puzzled.

His mother’s grip tightened on his arm and Jules took courage from that, and from the approving glance Davenport sent him, from the pride in her eyes. She said this title was the best thing he had ever written, and he believed her, because she never told him anything that wasn’t true.

“It is,” Jules said, holding his father’s gaze. “I’m the author.”

Selina stood and came to him, taking his hand, and he was flanked on both sides by the strongest women he knew as his father’s piercing gaze held his.

“You wrote all those books?”

Jules nodded. His mouth had gone dry. “Yes, sir.”

His father looked down, tracing a hand over the gold tooled writing on the leather cover. There was a taut silence except for the unpleasant way Jules could hear his own heart beating in his ears.

“I suppose you thought I would be angry. That I would say you were putting the title at risk,” his father said softly, regret behind the words.

Jules cleared his throat and nodded once more. His father looked up and shared a glance with his mother, and he realised they had always done this too, not needing words to understand what the other was thinking.

“No one else knows?” he asked cautiously.

“Lady Rose, and Leo and Pip know, all of whom can be trusted, obviously,” Jules said.

The duke nodded and set the book aside, then stood up, careful not to wake the little girl in his arms. Carefully, he handed her into her grandmother’s care and stood, regarding his son and heir.