Dukes By the Dozen

MEG HELD Vicca closer as she stared at Jonathan. It was wrong for her heart to launch into such a mad patter at the sight of him. She’d known he was coming—eventually. This was hardly a surprise. But she couldn’t help her reaction to him. She never could.

The best she could do was feign nonchalance.

For her, it had become an art form.

When he stepped into the room and tiptoed to the hearth, she had to look away. Had there ever been a man so perfectly formed? His shoulders were broad, his hips slender, his face pure perfection.

He knelt on the carpet beside her and twined a finger around one of Vicca’s curls, but all Meg could think of was the heat that surrounded him, the scent of his rising cologne. Her mouth watered and she swallowed. It took a moment for her to regain her senses. It took an effort to send him a casual glance.

“How was your journey?” she asked softly.

He grinned, and the sight nearly blinded her. And good heavens. The stubble of his day beard made her weak at the knees. She tightened her hold on Vicca, to keep herself from petting him, so strong was his allure. It captured her on a visceral level.

“Cold.”

“Oh yes.” She nodded. “It’s quite cold this year.”

“Isn’t it?”

Weather having been dispensed with, the conversation eased into silence. For wont of a sane subject, Meg stared at the fire, but eventually, she had to speak. “Well, I should get Vicca back in bed.”

Jonathan stood. “Let me.” And then, to her horror, he bent down and took his daughter from her arms. Everywhere he touched her, it burned.

Her face burned as well. Thank heaven for the shadows.

She watched as he carried Vicca to her bed and tucked her under the covers. Then he turned, took her arm, and guided her from the room.

Though the hall was lit only by the occasional lamp, it seemed as bright as daylight as they emerged. So when Jonathan pulled the door closed and turned to smile at her, she saw everything. The crinkle of his eyes, the raft of dimples on his cheek, the slight twitch of his nostrils.

Fortunately, he seemed oblivious to her rapt attention, which gave her time to look elsewhere before he noticed her drooling. Her wrinkled skirt was a perfect foil for her fascination.

His voice, when he spoke, rumbled through her being. “I understand they ran another one off.”

Thank God for the humor in his tone. It shattered any silly thoughts she might have been harboring in this oddly intimate scenario. She leaned against the wall and looked up at him and affected a starchy tone. “They set her on fire.”

He chuckled. “So I heard. Whatever will we do with them?”

We? She loved that he’d said we. But still, “They are your problem, Your Grace.” She never called him that when they were private, though he’d been a duke since he was a boy, so he knew she was jesting.

Indeed, he laughed. “I know you better than that, Meg. You adore those girls as much as I do.”

“True.” She forced a gamine grin. “But they are not my problem, and we both know it. Perhaps, while you are here, you can be their governess.” She batted her lashes, because it was a cheeky thing to do to a duke, and the situation called for cheeky.

He paled. “Surely Mother has sent for another?”

“I believe she directed Mawbry to do so. But there is always the possibility that…”

“What?” He always hated when she trailed off.

“Well, the help does talk. There is always the possibility that no one will take the post.” Again with the lashes. It was a ridiculous prospect, because who wouldn’t want to work for a duke? But it was amusing to watch the dismay cross his features. She patted him on his fine coat. “Don’t worry, Your Grace. You’ll make a wonderful governess. And I daresay they will not set you on fire.” And with that, she turned to head down the hall to her room.

“Meg!” The tenor of his voice stopped her. That and the fact he’d said her name. She loved when he called her Meg.

She turned and shot him a curious glance. “Yes?”

“You will help. Won’t you? Until someone comes?”

“You’re their father.”

He sighed and raked his hair. “I cannot parent. Not like Tessa. Tessa was…wonderful”

“It’s so easy. All you need to do is two things. First, be there, and second, love them. They are so lovable.”

“They are but…”

Something in his voice caught her attention. Tugged at her heart. “What is it?”

He raked back his hair. “Sometimes I can’t help feeling… guilty when I am with them. It’s my fault their mother died.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Tessa is gone.”

“She’s not, Jonathan.” Meg put her hand on his. “She’s alive in those little girls. And they need you. They need their father.”

“Please say you’ll help.”

He seemed so distraught, she had to relent. “Of course, Jonathan.” She waggled a finger so he would remember she was hardly a pushover. “But it would do you a world of good to spend more time with them. And it would be good for them as well. They miss their father.”

“I miss them too.”

Because the mood had shifted, she felt she could add, “And they need a mother.”