Lully’s composure broke and she bestowed one of those quicksilver giggles on him. “Bring pwesents.”

And then before Georgie could chastise her, she curtsied again and was off like a chased kit, her little heels clacking across the corridor parquet. Giving another groan of protest, Murphy hauled himself upright and loped after her.

“She is delicious,” Adam said, watching after. “Jamie would have loved her.”

Again he blindsided Georgie. She battled back fresh tears and nodded. “Yes. They were of a piece, those two.”

He slowly shook his head. “That hair…”

Her smile was more than a bit watery. “There was only ever one person with the same color, wasn’t there?”

His smile was just as watery. Oddly, it made her feel better. She had had no one to share memories of Jamie for so long.

They were both given a bit of a break as they received the staff with another tea service. Georgie focused on once again maintaining her composure as she watched their perilous dance with the heavy silver and delicate china. Tom was pale and had a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he balanced the tea service. Maisy had her lower lip caught between her teeth, and Mary wasn’t breathing at all. God bless them. They looked so much better than when she had first been introduced. Healthier, calmer, altogether less feral. She only wished that the duke could appreciate that rather than fear the ungainly ballet they conducted while serving.

At last, though, all was settled, her staff praised with sincere pride, and Georgie was pouring a bit of cream into the duke’s tea.

“Thank you for your patience,” she said, handing over the delicate cup.

His grin was a bit relieved. “I believe you are correct. They will make exemplary servants with a few more years under their belts. I think, however, that my Christmas gift to you will be a rolling tea cart.”

She grinned. “Not all homes will have a cart. So we practice without. It is more of an adventure.”

For a long few moments the two of them focused on Mrs. Prince’s delicious pastries. Usually Georgie could divorce herself from any other worries when she was savoring such fare. Today her heart simply wasn’t in it. She only had the time it would take to finish a cake before she had to face what had brought the duke here.

It simply wasn’t fair. She had finally felt safe. After three years spent in exile in Cornwall where she and the children couldn’t be found, she had been able to settle into a home. Not her home. She would probably never have a home now. Jamie’s pension was too small, and there was no way any of the parents would support her independence. So Jack had taken her in, her and Lully, their little apartment tucked up in the east wing of the tidy red brick Queen Anne home Jack had inherited from their grandmother.

Georgie and Jamie should have inherited his grandmother’s estate, a lovely ten room cottage near Portsmouth where Jamie could see the sea. That dream had been dashed, of course. His parents saw no reason to reward her for destroying their plans.

But she was safe here at Oak Haven. She helped manage the house for Jack and Olivia, especially when they were away, and Lully had her cousin to share lessons, kitchen treats and bedtime stories. No more running. No more hiding. No fear that Georgie would turn the corner to see a threat coming her way.

Of all the times to consider herself safe. The duke—Adam—was the greatest threat of all.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she heard and briefly closed her eyes.

Of course he had seen her reaction to the miniature. “It matters not.”

“But it does.”

She wanted him to say more, to say anything so she didn’t have to. She finally looked over to see sincere concern in his eyes.

“When did Jamie give you the miniature?” she asked.

“He didn’t.” He looked up, as if the plaster acanthus leaves that ringed the ceiling were the most fascinating thing in Dorset. “The Navy did. Well. They sent it to his parents. His father gave it to me.”

She nodded, oddly relieved. She felt even better when Adam reached inside his coat and pulled the miniature out. Taking one last look at it, he handed it over to her.

“Oh, no,” she protested instinctively, hand out.

His smile was kind. “No. It belongs to you. I have my own memories of him.”

Georgie realized her hand was shaking as she reached out to take it, the very last thing she would receive from her Jamie.

“He did write about it,” Adam said. “He was so very proud of having such a pretty little girl.”

Georgie clutched the little felt oval in her hand. “And he never saw her.”

There was a pause that she couldn’t fill, a silence she and Adam shared that was thick with unfallen tears.

“How long did you have together?” Adam asked.

She smiled, thinking about their hubris. They had wasted days on silly things, planning the house they would one day have, making lists of places they would visit, designing the boat Jamie would one day own to carry them to exotic places.

“Four months.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded like it. But then, Georgie had never doubted that Jamie’s cousin was a kind man. Jamie truly had worshiped him.

“I as well, Your Grace.”

He set down his cup and struggled to his feet. Georgie’s heart dropped. So. It was time to get down to business. She set down her own cup, but found she couldn’t quite make it to her feet as well. Instead she tucked the miniature into her pocket.

“Adam,” he corrected with a gentle smile as he retrieved his cane. “It would look ridiculous if you called your cousin ‘your grace.’”

“Yes, of course….Adam.”

Georgie was setting down her own cup when she was distracted by the sound of giggles. She turned to the windows to see Lully leaping about the back garden in her favorite bright red dress she insisted made her a robin. Murphy was seated by the herb corner, and Hattie just tying the ribbons on her bonnet by the arbor. Georgie didn’t realize she was smiling until the duke commented on it.

“I see the aforementioned walk is about to commence,” he said with his own smile.

She nodded, soaking in the sight of her baby like sunlight.

“That’s quite a dog,” he said.

“Murphy is actually quite a darling,” she said, dispatching her cup. “As long as you do not try to interfere with Lully or Jamie, anyway.”

Just then the dog in question, pressed his nose against the glass. Beside him Lully gave a dignified little wave, a gleaming smile, and then turned to run after Hattie, who was already through the garden gate.

Adam waved back. “Our little duchess is quite magnificent.”

Georgie came to abrupt attention and turned on him. “Please. Do not refer to her like that. Ever.”

“Why not?” he asked, setting the cup down. “It is who she is.”

Bile rose up in her throat. “As I said, Your….Adam. She is only a very little girl.”

“With people who depend on her.”

“And trustees to see to those people until she is old enough to be involved.”

“Only once she is invested. Then we may act for her.”

“You act for her now. Well, Mr. Carson does.”

“Not as duchess. This is an entirely different level of involvement, Mrs. Grace.”

“Not Mrs. Grace, please.”

His one eyebrow rose. “Well, I cannot call you Jamie’s wife, even though that is how I think of you.”

She sighed. “Georgie will do perfectly fine. My daughter is Lully. Or Lilly. Or Lilly Charlotte. I will set Murphy on you if you spread it around that she should be called Her Grace. It would destroy her life.”

She had been set to move on. He stopped her with two words.

“Her life?”

Briefly she closed her eyes. “Our lives, then. The locals see her as Gracechurch’s niece, no more, no less. You know perfectly well from your own experience that there is a change in how people deal with you when they find out you hold such a lofty title. A separation appears, a caution. A self-imposed artificiality from the people she has known as friends and neighbors her whole life. Think of what that would do to the little girl you just met. Please. Do not hurt my child.”

“Or you’ll sic Murphy on me.”

She considered him for a moment, hoping he believed her. “Do not think I won’t, if it comes to that. And do not be misled by his rather ungainly appearance. Murphy will follow my every command without hesitation. And he is quite an athletic animal.”

Adam all but reared back. “You are quite serious, aren’t you?”

“You’ve been to war, sir. I have as well, although of a much different type. My cousin did his best to murder young Jamie and destroy my family. I will no more let you do it than I did him.”

“Murder your nephew?”

“Destroy my family.”

For another long moment, he considered her. “I don’t mean to take her away from you.”

“But you mean to take her away from here, where she is safe.”

As if fate had simply been waiting for that boast, suddenly Georgie heard Murphy. He wasn’t barking as if he played. It was his attack bark. Then she heard a scream. Not even noticing that she knocked the tray over, spilling tea and china over the rug, she was on her feet running for the back of the house

“Stop!” the duke yelled, struggling to his feet. “Wait!”

She neither stopped nor waited.




CHAPTER 4




BY THE TIME Georgie made it through the kitchen, half her staff was on her heels, cook with a cleaver, the maids with brooms and Tom with a blunderbuss Georgie had no idea he had. She lifted her skirts and dragged out the knife she had sheathed to her thigh on the run, a skill she had needed before. Murphy was still barking, that hair-raising, deep-chested cacophony that terrified her. Hattie was still screaming at the top of her lungs, more as an alert to others, Georgie knew, then from fear.