Page 49 of The Trouble With Her Duke
Chapter 17
Morning, Five days later
“Your Grace, a delivery has arrived for Miss Hammond and the children. I believe it’s the clothing,” Jenkins said.
“Please ask Miss Hammond to . . . wait.” He stopped, suddenly unsure of how Lydia would react to the bolder colors. “Invite my aunt for a luncheon. Tell her the children have requested her presence.”
Jenkins looked at him askew.
“Well, they meant to,” Damon said with a crooked grin. Deliver the clothing to Miss Hammond just before luncheon, which will give her the barest time to notice them,” Damon suggested.
Jenkins arched a brow. “I had no idea you were so devious, Your Grace.”
Damon crowed. “Yes, once, or twice I’ve resorted to it. Besides, the duchesses were in on this, too. Why should I go down in flames? We all agreed she needed to wear color—not that drab brown and grey she has been wearing. “Predictably, she ordered pale colors, and the modiste updated them to bolder colors—something more cheerful. That’s all.”
Jenkins’ lip quirked. “And how do you think Miss Hammond will react to the gowns, Your Grace?”
“I’m not sure, but I hope she will like them.” Surely she wouldn’t leave over her gowns being changed, he rationalized. The Duchess of Featherly knows her well and thought it was a sound idea. When have I ever second-guessed myself so much?
“I’ll let you know about luncheon, Your Grace.” With a quick bow, he departed.
No doubt he’s telling Mrs. Jenkins, Damon thought, rolling his eyes. Everyone in the household adored Lydia, including him. He thought the trip away would help the attraction fade away. So far, that had not happened. Thoughts of her invaded his sleep, and his head hurt from the battle his heart and mind were waging. The woman is perfect. No, she is better than perfect. If Mother were here, she’d be telling me that very thing every chance she got. He wasn’t a superstitious man, but Damon needed a sign.
Damon had easily discovered Lydia’s morning routine. He usually spotted her from his study window. She walked Rosie and spent time with the horses before starting the day with his children. The day they kissed, he had intended to tell her he had purchased the dapple-grey mare for her use. That conversation had never taken place. He had no regrets about kissing her, and—Lord help him—he looked forward to the next opportunity.
But he’d also told Lydia they would discuss their feelings, and he had every intention of doing that…soon. Now that he was back in Bath, he needed to have that talk, and soon, before things escalated between them. Every time he was near her, he had a difficult time thinking about anything else except kissing her. And if he wasn’t careful, he might compromise her and that was the last thing he wanted.
“Your Grace,” Jenkins said from the door. “The dowager accepted your invitation to visit the children for lunch.”
“Excellent, Jenkins. Please inform Miss Hammond and the children that their great aunt will join be joining us.”
“She also said the Dowager Duchess of Featherly plans to accompany her,” Jenkins added.
“Even better.” He liked the Golden Duchesses, although small doses suited him better. “Oh and complete the garment delivery as we agreed.”
Jenkins arched a brow. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
Damon leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk. His world had completely turned upside down since kissing Lydia. Damon’s every waking moment was full of thoughts of her, and his nights were spent dreaming of her —her care of the children, her kindness, her wit, her cleverness, her unrelenting patience, and her beauty. He couldn’t shake this desire he had for her that only seemed to grow with each passing day. Lydia was the best governess the children had ever had. But they could not go on this way.
Life settled into a comfortable routine for Lydia. The children enjoyed their lessons, particularly the activities. Once Michael recovered from his overindulgence in lemon biscuits a few days ago, he insisted on learning more archery and she willingly complied. Her days had passed peacefully, but Lydia was feeling anything but peaceful.
And now that Damon had returned from his trip, she felt sure he would make time to discuss their relationship. Lydia loved being governess to the children, but things could not go on this way. She had occupied herself with the children’s lessons and had even planned the next several weeks—anything to avoid thinking about the man. The children enjoyed archery as much as she did. In no time, they had quickly progressed and began competing with one another.
“Come, Rosie,” she said, tucking several apples in her skirt pocket. The dog dutifully trotted alongside her as they made their way to the stable. This morning she brought extra apples tucked in her pockets, thinking the ponies would love them as well.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Lydia said, holding out the apple. The dappled grey munched it appreciatively then whinnied for another. The stallion put his head over the gate and nickered. “I’ve got yours too, Hero.” She laughed and handed him an apple. He nudged her on the neck, eliciting a giggle from Lydia. “Your master is rubbing off on you.”
Lydia noticed Rosie sniffing around the stalls. “Don’t wander, Rosie.”
Lydia could not help but think about that morning almost a week ago when she and Damon had shared three incredible kisses in the stable. Then, he’d been called away on business, which only added to her inner turmoil. The children had become dear to her, and she to them. But Lydia was unsure how long she could endure the confusion and despair of living under the same roof as the duke and not knowing how things stood between them. She admired so much about him—his devotion to family, his strength and protective nature, his generosity, his wit, and his unyielding sense of right. If she had thought to create the perfect man for her, it would be Damon. But if the duke was interested in marriage, he would have married before now. His late wife had been gone for years. And from what she had gleaned, Damon preferred mistresses.
Lydia would not disgrace herself or her family by becoming his mistress. Her father and grandfather had defended her need for independence—something she could never give up. Nor could she disgrace the family. Besides, I want no part of marriage. Right? Maybe the passion had cooled for him. Her mother had died in giving birth to her and that loss had haunted Lydia her entire life. But becoming governess to Michael and Mandy changed everything. She adored the children and the idea of becoming a mother was something she imagined for herself, even though the fear of dying in childbirth had not disappeared completely.
Nor could she stop thinking about Damon. He haunted her dreams. And the heated memory of his kisses often woke her and left her restless and yearning. She could almost summon the feeling of his warm breath on her neck. Lydia was so lost in thought she almost missed Rosie’s barking.
“What is it, girl?” she asked, trying to calm the young puppy. “What has upset you?”
“Grrrrrrrr, ruff,” the dog growled, her front paws down, ready to spring. Then she began barking wildly.
