Page 3 of My Lord, My Rogue
“Yes, m’lady,” her maid nodded as she cinched up her mistress’ stays.
“I would enjoy a trip into the village, but I need to speak with Mrs. Hadley. Oliver has a new tooth trying to show itself. I should stay close in case he needs me.” The few trips she had made into the village had cheered her, even though she took extra measures to keep her identity hidden. She was thankful to have Mrs. Hadley as her son’s nurse, having had her as her own nurse those many years past.
Less than an hour later, Honora was sitting in the dining room, ready to break her fast, when the footman announced her parents. Cook had made all of her favorites. “I will return shortly. Please add some place settings,” she said, leaving the room. Her papa’s jovial voice hastened her footsteps to the parlor.
“Mama, Papa! ’Tis so good you are here,” Honora said, kissing her father on the cheek. “How long will you be able to stay?”
“We plan to spend Christmastide, so we can be with our daughter and grandson,” he laughed, squeezing her in the bearhug she had missed.
“How wonderful! Aunt Violet should also arrive soon—today, I think. I wrote her and invited her,” Honora told them. The house would be full of the people she loved, again.
“How exciting!” her mother exclaimed. “This is a genuine surprise. I haven’t seen my sister in an age. This is delightful news. We can all be together for the holidays.”
A pang of regret seized her. Her impetuousness had cost her family so much—yet she could never regret Oliver. He was her everything.
“When will we get to see that grandchild of ours?” her father interjected, changing the melancholy direction of the conversation.
“Mrs. Hadley has been a jewel. Oliver loves her. If not for her, I fear I might not have understood all of what my son has needed.”
“We were lucky to have her, as well. She was eager to help when she understood what had happened.”
Everyone danced around her marriage to David Aster, or at least that was how she felt.
Small steps running through the hall grabbed her attention. “Speaking of Oliver,” she said as he toddled into the room, followed closely by Mrs. Hadley.
“Lady Aster, Master Oliver has been asking for his Grandpapa! He heard his voice, and we hurried downstairs,” the nurse supplied, pleased with her ward.
Her parents clearly adored Oliver. She watched as her parents passed Oliver back and forth, planting kisses on his head and encouraging his giggles.
“I brought you a present, Oliver,” Papa said, lifting his grandson onto his knee.
“Giles, do you think we should discuss this with Honora, first,” Lady Radcliff whispered quietly.
Honora heard her mother’s soft plea and mouthed, “’Tis fine with me,” nodding. Father had mentioned the present already—albeit it was a foregone conclusion. However, he asked.
Mama looked back with obvious relief.
“A pwesent?” The young boy looked up, smiling with anticipation.
“Yes! Something I think you will enjoy,” the earl said, nodding to a footman who walked in carrying a large basket with a moving blanket.
Appearing unsure, the little boy sat there until a small orange and white head pushed its way from under the blanket.
“A puppy!”
The small puppy climbed its way out of the basket, dragging the small blanket to Oliver, who offered happy giggles in between licks to his face. “Mama . . . look! A puppy.”
“I have never seen a dog with that coloring. Where did you find it, Papa?” Honora leaned in to take a closer look.
“A friend of mine said his son found a couple of strays and had someone hold on to them—remarkably bringing them both back after the war. The bitch has only had a few litters, and this was from the latest. They called it a Brittany Spaniel. He looked like a wonderful companion for our little man, and I could not resist. I hope you are not overly put out with your papa.” He gave a sly smile.
“Of course not, Papa. A spaniel will be a delightful pet for Oliver.
Williams stood in the doorway to the parlor and gently cleared his throat. “My lord, my ladies, Lady Violet Drake has arrived.”
A swish of taffeta and silks buzzed past the lanky butler. “My timing is impeccable! I am here just in time for an introduction to the newest family member,” Lady Drake cheerfully bantered, while leaning in to kiss her sister. “May I ask what you plan to name this sweet little puppy?” she asked, as she accepted a kiss from her brother-in-law and then placed a kiss on her grandnephew’s head.
“Wiggs!” Oliver announced proudly.
