Page 16 of The Trouble With Her Duke
“Damon wouldn’t touch them. He was convinced they gave out warts if they peed on you, so he always had me carry them.” Gavin guffawed. “And I’ve yet to find one.” He held up his hands as proof.
“Gavin. Language!” his mother reprimanded, evoking more merriment.
“Guilty. I believed her,” Damon said, laughing and checking his hands. “She told me no one would want to touch a wart on my hand.”
“That didn’t make any difference to Gavin,” Colleen said, looking playfully at her husband.
“Isn’t this the one that complained about the twins every day?” Gavin asked.
“She wasn’t the first—but she was certainly the most persistent. Nothing they did was right. I found out that she called them names. Had I heard her, she would have been sacked . . .”
“. . . which would have avoided frog pandemonium,” Colleen said, hooting in laughter with his younger brother. “Your wee bairns just need a mother’s hand, I’ll swear.”
“Brother, are there any left to choose from?” Gavin asked.
“I’m praying for a miracle,” Damon said good-naturedly. “You’ve been waiting to ask that, right? Go ahead. Laugh it up.”
“I have,” his brother said with a chuckle.
“In all seriousness, I’ve tried to do right by them, but Aimee’s death created a large void in their lives.”
“They didn’t know Aimee,” Eloise said.
That’s true. They didn’t know their mother, Damon thought. They cannot miss what they don’t know. Can they?
“I’ve heard nothing but laughter coming from the kitchen. It seems they are on their best behavior,” his mother continued. “Do you have another governess?”
Damon hung his head in frustration. “Not that I’m aware of . . . yet. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins assured me they would find one, although I’m not sure where or how. You’d think all England offers in the way of governesses are childless, aging, and angry women. None of them have even tried to gain my children’s respect.”
“Son. Perhaps you should look at this differently. Mrs. Nimble was aging and childless, and she was the only nanny they had. They are in there,” she pointed towards the kitchen, “laughing.”
Damon furrowed his brow. He desperately wanted to think about something other than replacing the governess. Perhaps his mother was right. “You make a good point.” He placed his fork down. “I’ll give Mrs. Jenkins time to find one. And then . . . I plan to follow things more closely.”
“Please don’t view this as criticism, son. Those are wonderful children. But something happens between them and their governesses—regardless of who that person is,” the dowager said, drawing a deliberate breath. “They are children of a duke. Society will always be focused on them. They will be given opportunities and must approach life with more kindness.”
“Yes, Mother. I agree. But my priority is to secure the governess. This time, I’ll watch the interaction more closely,” Damon said.
Damon pushed his food around with his fork, feeling less excited about the meal in front of him. “I will do my best.” He noticed his cousin and his brother had remained silent, as had their wives. “I’m very glad Mrs. Nimble agreed to help during the holiday.”
“Of course.” His mother speared a piece of egg.
Not meaning to change the subject,” Hargus said, glancing between the dowager duchess and Damon. “But I’m wondering if you would enjoy a wee bit of ice fishing. The north pond has frozen, and I’m itching to see what we can catch.”
“My God! When was the last time we all did that together?” Damon asked.
“It’s been a while, to be sure,” Gavin said, scratching the short brown beard on his face. “Seems like Uncle Fergus was with us at least four Christmases ago.”
“Yes! Remember? Da pranked us! Sent us back to the cabin for things he insisted we needed. All the time, he had it rigged with more than one bucket of cold water!” Hargus added.
“Yes, Fergus was always pranking us as children,” his mother added. “I recall a time or two when clothing disappeared. The thing you must remember about my brother is his long memory. If you pranked him, he would certainly never forget it,” she said with a laugh.
“Ah,” Damon said. “I wondered if the pranking ran in the blood. I recall that wet adventure now! How could I have forgotten? I had never been so cold in my life!” He looked at his cousin. “I think we all miss Uncle Fergus’ spirited entertainment.”
“A lot like the entertainment your governesses have gotten.” Hargus chuckled.
“Yes. It was. Perhaps that is where they get it, but why they are doing it is what I need to figure out. That and how to fix it,” Damon replied. “When do you want to go?”
“Ahem . . . I will only go if there’s a promise not to prank!” Gavin added. “All this talk refreshed my mind. Like Damon, I have never been that cold in my life, and I don’t want to risk it again.”
