Page 43 of No Duke of Mine

But then a small cast figure of a woman caught his eye, resigned to a spot behind the more popular toy soldiers. Only three inches tall, a woman with long flowing skirts and dark hair, reminding him of another piece he’d forgotten about until now. A toy Maggie had kept with her at all times as a girl. A piece his brother Jasper had thrown into the river at Ravenswood in a fit of temper with her.

It had unfortunately never been recovered.

His fingers itched to purchase the piece and right a wrong done to her so long ago. But today, he had to resist all sentiment, and turned away from it to complete his purchases.

The proprietor was overjoyed with his choices, wrapping each swiftly and making a great pile on the countertop. Algernon tossed some money at him, and when he left, he expected Maggie to collect the items.

She did not.

Algernon sent her back with a harsh rebuke for forgetting her duty. Maggie returned to the sidewalk, arms overflowing, face flaming as he told her to place the gifts inside the carriage and be quick about it.

When she returned, however, she offered him a hesitant smile. “Are you buying gifts for everyone in your family?”

“That would be absurd,” he murmured. “There are over one hundred living Sweets in England.”

“I meant your brothers and their wives, too. If Stratford may paint as often as he likes, he would surely enjoy a gift of brushes from you.”

Algernon grunted at her timely suggestion and marveled at her memory of their conversations. He did want his brother to paint a portrait of himself and his bride one day in the near future.

He turned away without further comment, walking toward another store and avoiding the one that sold brushes for painting, hating himself for what he was doing to her.

But he was determined to show Maggie that she wouldn’t last one day as a servant. It was not in her nature to take orders or like having her suggestions ignored.

The next shop sold snuff, and although he did not use it himself, his sister-in-law did. He entered the shop and made Maggie wait while he considered the selections.

The strong smell of tobacco made his eyes sting, and he finally glanced back to see her discreetly wiping at her eyes. Was it the snuff or grief or both? He could not remember if her father took snuff, and hoped he’d not created a situation that had unwittingly caused her pain.

He completed his purchase quickly, glad to leave the stink of the shop, and heard Maggie exhale her relief, too. He sent her to the carriage to wait beside it while he visited a nearby coffee house, stalling for time. From inside, he could see her shifting from foot to foot, craning her neck to see what kept him from her side.

He laughed softly to himself, finished his coffee, and strolled back outside in no great hurry.

He gestured to Maggie to join him, making her walk along Bond Street as far as he dared, all but ignored. He was stopped by friends along the way. People he could not introduce her to. Talked of the city, politics, and world events. Many things that Maggie was sure to have an opinion about, but as a servant, she shouldn’t comment on.

He hoped she’d had enough of the charade. He certainly had. If he saw her flinch again, he might forget himself and take hold of her hand right here on the street, just to see her smile once more.

He finally turned and headed back toward the carriage, only to spy a small establishment he’d forgotten about. Struck by an inspired idea, he headed to the shop, hoping his point had been made well enough that he would not have to continue this foolishness tomorrow.