Page 183 of The Ladies Least Likely
Mal laughed. “My duchess did her one better,” he said. “She made a duke out of a bastard.”
“Why do you keep calling her that?” Camilla demanded, setting her book aside and crossing to their chairs, perching on the armrest of Amaranthe’s.
“My duchess? Because she is.”
“But that is her status,” Camilla said with exasperation. “Not hername.”
“Well, you can’t call her Amaranthe, as that’s rude,” Mal said.
“I have it!” Ned crowed from his place at the table. “A man who has a beautiful woman in his library lacks for nothing.” Herolled his eyes in exasperation. “Bah! All that work for a love note that you wrote, Mal.”
His guardian grinned. “I did. But it wasn’t meant for you. Joseph set you to it, I suppose?”
“I thought it was an assignment from you.” Joseph’s face reddened as he passed Amaranthe the slip of paper.
“You remind me that I need to decide what to put on the sign over my shop,” Amaranthe said. “Amaranthe Delaval, antiquarian? Amaranthe’s Antique Books?”
“The Antiquarian Duchess,” Joseph proposed.
“Hunsdon Books and Antiquarian Artifacts,” Ned said.
“My Talented Wife,” Mal said with a teasing grin.
“Well, I know whatIwant to call her,” Camilla said, curling against Amaranthe’s side. “Mother.”
“One of my favorite titles,” Amaranthe murmured. “In fact, it may be my favorite above all.”
“Better than duchess? Or wife?” Mal affected outrage.
She smiled and reached out her hand to him. “And to think I was once Amaranthe Illingworth, orphan. You are the one who has elevated me, dear. And I wish to be no place else in the world but here with you.”
