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It made no sense. While Louisa had only met the late duchess twice before her murder, there had been no talk of a child. Harry’s father had never mentioned a granddaughter. But seeing the black hair on her, Louisa knew the girl would also have light caramel skin and likely brown eyes just like her mother.
“You have a daughter,” she whispered in awe.
The little girl turned and looked at her with a frown. “Papa, who’s that?”
Harry lifted his head from the floor and scowled at her. “Louisa, what are you doing up here?”
The little girl scrambled off her father and stood to stare at Louisa. “Who are you?”
Louisa suppressed a smile at the little girl’s brashness. Seeing her stand, Louisa realized the girl was either tall for her age or closer to four than she’d initially thought. “A friend of your father’s.”
Big brown eyes with long dark lashes dominated Charlotte’s small face. “Papa, may she join us for tea?”
Harry sat up, brushed his fingers through his hair, and leveled Louisa a dark look. “I’m certain she has other things to do, poppet.”
Oh, no. He was not about to scare Louisa off. She smiled down at the little girl. “I would be most pleased to join you for tea, Lady...”
He rose to his feet and waved her in. “Miss Drake, this is my daughter, Charlotte.”
“Lady Charlotte, it is a great pleasure to meet you,” Louisa said with an exaggerated curtsy to her.
“Miss Drake,” Charlotte replied with a deep curtsy to her. “It is a pleasure.” She turned back to her father. “Is that right, Papa? Nurse makes me practice.”
“You did it perfectly,” he replied, smiling down at Charlotte.
A daughter. Another thing he had kept from her.
“Miss Drake, sit here,” Charlotte said, pointing to a child size chair.
“Thank you.” Louisa took the seat as Harry attempted to sit in the chair across from her.
“This never works,” he grumbled, moving the chair out of the way to sit on the floor. He stretched his long limbs under the table. His leg brushed against hers as he tried to find the best way to sit at a table much too small for him.
She ignored the rush of gooseflesh his movement caused. She must be desperate for a husband if Harry caused such reactions.
Charlotte giggled as her father tried to sit. Her smile touched Louisa’s heart. She wanted a husband who had no issue joining his daughter for tea even if his body was too large to fit at the table and the teacups too small. Determination filled her as she glanced over at him. He gave her a half-smile and a shake of his head. His russet colored hair was longer than she’d ever seen on him and made him far more handsome. Or maybe it was the beard he had not yet shaved. She rather liked it on him.
“Now, who will pour?” Harry asked.
“Miss Drake.”
“Ah, but the guest should never be asked to pour the tea,” Louisa said firmly to Charlotte. “The hostess must oblige her guests.”
“Oh,” the little girl said with a pout. “Nurse says I spill.”
“Nonsense,” Louisa said with a smile. “Even if you spill some, we will clean it up straight away.”
Charlotte stared at the small teapot. “Very well.” She concentrated as she picked up the teapot and poured a little into Louisa’s cup. “I did it!”
“Yes, you did,” Louisa replied. “Now you must pour some for your father and then yourself.”
Charlotte pressed her lips together, and her dark brows furrowed as she carefully poured some tea into Harry’s cup. The expression of concentration on her face reminded Louisa of Harry. Other than her mother’s Indian coloring, the girl had Harry’s strong jaw and bright smile.
“Very good, Charlotte,” Harry said after she had completed pouring.
“But I spilled,” she said, pointing to the spot.
Louisa placed her napkin on the damp stain to soak up the tea. “I will tell you a secret,” Louisa said, leaning in closer to Charlotte. “I still spill a little tea every time I pour.”
