Page 18 of Never Beguile a Duke
Biting back the curse word he longed to fling at them, Silas turned and stalked from the parlor. He still needed to find Juliette.
“Beaufort!” Lennox chased him across the foyer.
Exhaling a deep breath, Silas stopped and waited at the base of the staircase.
“Something you need?” he asked when Lennox reached the bottom step.
“Have you sorted things out?” A slight furrow in his brow, Lennox tipped his head toward Silas’ office.
“Not quite.” Grimacing, Silas glanced at the parlor doorway and lowered his voice. “I’ve lost my daughter.”
“That didn’t take much time.” Lennox chuckled.
Silas’ eyes narrowed. “I don’t recall raising children as an activity in which you have much practice.”
“I know not to lose one.”
“I am not amused!” Silas slammed his hand on the banister post.
The jesting attitude melted from Lennox’s face. “I’ll search the downstairs. You can inspect the chambers upstairs under the guise of greeting your guests. We’ll reconvene in your office in thirty minutes.”
Heart pumping, Silas took the steps two at a time, racing up the staircase. When he reached the second-floor landing, his chest tightened as his gaze slid along roughly ten closed chamber doors.
Juliette could be hiding in any one of them…
A tendril of mirth crept into the corridor, drawing Silas’ curiosity. He stole down the hallway, froze outside of the chamber, his body hidden by the doorframe, and peered into the room.
Crouched on the floor between Miss Webb and Miss Fernsby-Webb, Juliette sorted through a colorful mess of ribbons.
She held up two different hues. “I don’t know which to choose.”
“Take them both,” Miss Fernsby-Webb replied, leaning over and picking out two matching ribbons. “Nora and I have too many between us.”
Stepping into the chamber, Silas cleared his throat.
Three heads turned.
“Your Grace,” Miss Fernsby-Webb said, rising to her feet and adding a curtsey. “We’ve just met… your daughter.”
Silas inclined his head, acknowledging the truth of the statement. “And I thank you for keeping Juliette entertained while I searched for her.”
Lip quivering, Juliette dropped the ribbons and stood, tucking her hands behind her back as she lowered her head. “I shouldn’t have left your office, Your Grace.”
“Father,” Silas replied, the word sticking in his throat. “Or Papa, if you prefer.”
“Miss Juliette,” Miss Fernsby-Webb said, kneeling and collecting the ribbons, “informed us of the connection.”
“And we,” Miss Webb added, favoring Silas with a large smile, “were delighted to make her acquaintance.”
Silence blanketed the room.
“However?” Silas said, a faint growl in his question.
Miss Fernsby-Webb floated closer, bathing him in her unusual citrus-like scent. “To protect Miss Juliette from the vicious gossip that follows the revelation of a previously unclaimed child, Nora recommended introducing Miss Juliette tonight as the daughter you’ve always known existed but kept hidden from society.”
Silas glanced at Juliette, who, head down, dug a toe into one of the dark fleur-de-lis adorning a light gray rug. He moved around Miss Fernsby-Webb, subtly inhaling as he passed, and knelt in front of Juliette. Lifting her chin, he stared into her hazel eyes.
“Does this suggestion upset you?” he asked.
