The Duke Can Go to the Devil (15 page)

The little girl darted her gaze over to the monstrous feline, then looked back to May and nodded shyly. After meeting her yesterday, it was hard to imagine she would ever be so reserved. May concentrated on not glancing
toward the duchess, for fear of the look she would give the woman.

“Well, I've seen tigers smaller than him. What's his name?”

She giggled into her hand, and Julian's hands went to his slender hips, his arms akimbo. “Are you serious?” He looked as though he couldn't decide whether she was teasing him or not. “He's fat, but tigers are as big as carriages!”

“Well, he's certainly as big as a few tiger cubs I've seen. And tigers are closer in size to small donkeys than carriages.”

Clarisse ran over and scooped the animal up, throwing his front legs over her shoulder before carrying him over to May. The cat, remarkably, simply yawned broadly before allowing himself to drape there like a stole. “His name is Orangey. His favorite color is purple, just like mine.”

The duchess clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “Put him down, Clarisse. He'll get fur all over your pretty dress.” She glanced over to Nurse Plimpton, who promptly rushed forth and plucked the cat from Clarisse's arms.

“What a coincidence,” May said brightly, gaining the little girl's attention once more. “Purple is my favorite color as well.” It was a bald-faced lie, but worth it when she saw the toothy grin Clarisse gave her.

“Purple is for girls,” Julian volunteered, taking a step closer to May. “I like blue. Nurse Plimpton says it's the color of the ocean, and I want to be in the navy someday.”

“Well,” she replied, doing her best to sound suitably impressed, “that is a
very
respectable goal. I know the duke mentioned that I had sailed here from China, but did you know that my father was the captain of the ship?”

She might as well have said her father was the king of the world for all the awe that crossed the boy's face. “A
real
sea captain? Has he ever fired a cannon?”

Before she could reply, Lady Radcliffe clapped her hands together softly. “I think we have imposed upon our guest long enough. Say good-bye, children.”

They groaned in unison, but did as they were told. The duchess kissed each of their cheeks before sweeping from the room, pulling May along with her. Waving to the children over her shoulder, May decided then and there that she would visit them as often as she possibly could. She had never really been around children, so she had no idea what one was to do with them, but from what she could tell, it didn't matter. All they seemed to need was someone to show a bit of interest, and perhaps share a few smiles.

The second thing that she decided as she descended the stairs beside the beautiful but heartless duchess was that she would spend as little time with the woman as she could manage. As far as May was concerned, the duchess and Aunt Victoria were practically made for each other, so she hoped to leave them to each other's company as much as possible.

Thank goodness Julian and Clarisse had Radcliffe.

Thinking of the way the duke had treated the children yesterday, her heart suddenly ached with tenderness. No matter how much he had aggravated her this morning, she could just kiss him for being the lovely brother that he was. Anyone that could make those two light up with
laughter and mischief had to be someone worth giving a second chance.

I
t was nearly dinnertime when William finally returned to the house, tired, hungry, and covered in soft white cotton fibers. It had been a good day, and he was relieved to find that things seemed to finally be running somewhat smoothly. His supervisor, Wallace Perkins, was proving to be as capable in the job as William had hoped. With the arrival of their biggest order of cotton yet, the mill had a huge amount of work ahead of it for the foreseeable future.

As dirty as he felt, however, he was anxious to spend a little time with the children before they went to bed. Yes, he should have been a better host to his guests today, and yes, he should be hurrying to clean up and head to the drawing room, but his siblings were, as always, his priority. He knew from experience that whenever their mother was in residence, their initial excitement would always descend into disappointment.

He hated it, but there was little to be done. A detached mother was better than none at all, however, which was why he continued to support her visits.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he was surprised to find the nursery door ajar. Not a good sign. If they had snuck out again, there was no telling what sort of havoc they would cause with their guests. He hurried forward,
but paused when he heard a peal of laughter from Clarisse, followed by Julian's exclamation of, “Do it again, Mei-li!”

Mei-li?
William kept his footsteps light as he crept forward to peer into the nursery. Sure enough, May was standing—or rather stooping—in the middle of the room, both children at her feet. Her posture was completely at odds with her tidy golden curls and lovely blue-and-gold-trimmed white gown. Her chin rested against her right shoulder as she swung her right arm back and forth with slow, deliberate swoops. She lumbered across the carpet a few steps before raising her arm and letting out the most unladylike sound he had ever heard.

His eyebrows inched up his forehead.
What on earth?

The children dissolved into laughter, falling against each other as they giggled uproariously. The sound brought a begrudging smile to William's lips. Had anyone ever made them laugh so hard? At that moment, he didn't care that she had allowed them to call her by her first name, or that she had come up here without his permission. She had made them laugh when he had expected sadness, and for that he was grateful.

May straightened and grinned at them. She looked as luminescent and happy as he had ever seen her. “Your turn!”

Clarisse and Julian bounded to their feet, and began what he could now tell was supposed to be an impression of an elephant. They giggled as they plodded around with their hands dangling to the floor, pretending to knock over invisible trees and trample hedges.

“Very good,” May exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Now let me hear you trumpet.”

Squeaky, high-pitched bellows filled the room as they
gave it their best try. It was the most pitiful imitation he had ever heard, and he loved it.

“You two must be part elephant,” she teased, tickling Clarisse. “Did you know that in many places, they use those great, big, huge elephants as pack animals? I've even seen whole families riding them at the same time.”

“But aren't the people heavy?” Julian asked, his arm still swinging back and forth. “Why doesn't the elephant just knock them down like this?” He threw his arm out straight and spun in a circle.

May laughed and shook her head. “I suppose they are heavy, but elephants are very gentle, most of the time. It's just like when you ride Lemon Drop. They are much stronger and bigger than us, but we trust each other.”

She knew the name of Julian's pony? How long had she been there, anyway? It was obvious she'd come to play with them, all on her own. Something tightened in his chest, watching her being so kind to them. They were lapping up the attention like kittens with fresh milk, practically glowing with their excitement.

All the frustration he had felt toward her at the start of the day began to soften and slide away as he watched her, a mindless smile tugging his lips.

“And did you know,” she said, bending down to speak to Clarisse, “that sometimes people dress them up? I've seen elephants with vests and headdresses and gold-trimmed blankets that jingled like bells when they moved.”

His sister's eyes went wide with wonder. “Do they ever wear purple?”

May nodded. “Purple, and green, and orange, but most of all, red.”

“What about blue?” Julian asked, leaning against May's shoulder.

“Sometimes. Not the same blue as the naval uniforms, but more like this,” she said, pointing to the trim on her gown.

William shook his head. She'd been here less than a day, and she already knew their favorite colors, what Julian hoped to be when he was older, and how to make them laugh. He debated for a moment clearing his throat and letting them know he was there, but decided to let them have their special time with their guest. Plus, he didn't wish to dim May's enthusiasm with his presence. He was feeling worse by the minute about the way he had acted this morning.

He would come by after his bath to tuck the children in. As for May, well, clearly he had some making up to do. No matter how silly he thought her ideas about her exercises, she had just proven herself worthy of all the patience and respect he could possibly give.

*   *   *

The duke's house might have been overly large and frustrating to navigate, but the grounds were proving to be an absolute delight. Where the house felt cluttered, the land seemed expansive. She felt free here.

The area that he had designated for May's morning routine was particularly picturesque and peaceful. The lake was well protected by the surrounding woods, and the surface was mirror calm this time of the morning. The folly had a certain gracefulness to it that was appealing in its symmetry: ten fluted columns, a domed ceiling, and a perfectly circular shape that must have been measured within an inch of its life.

Slipping out of her shoes, she savored the cool, damp grass against her bare feet. The lawn around the folly was well manicured, so she had plenty of room to move around without worrying about becoming mired in the
tall grasses farther out. The low clouds overhead threatened rain, but she wouldn't mind that either. After spending so much of her life on the ocean, she was well used to the elements.

She walked to the center of the lawn, breathed in deep, then exhaled long and slow. She was just about to begin when movement on the path from the house caught her attention.

William.

The name came naturally to her. Since playing with the children yesterday, she had begun to think of him that way since that's how they referred to him. And refer to him, they did. In their innocence, they had no idea how much of him they were revealing to her. They had been full of anecdotes about him, and only too eager to share. Stories of fishing and rowing in the lake, playing games, lessons on the pony, and her favorite of all, how they had come to have their cat.

She smiled. Only a softhearted brother would have brought his young sister a guard cat to protect her from the monsters beneath her bed. Especially when Orangey apparently made him sneeze like a donkey. How a donkey sneezed, she hadn't a clue, but Julian had been most emphatic in the comparison.

And now he was here, despite everything that had been said between them. She laced her fingers and waited, all the while wondering what he could want with her. Here to reprimand her, perhaps? Or demand that she cease her exercises? He'd spoken very little to her at supper last night, content to allow the others to fill the silence.

Still, she had caught him watching her more than once. He hadn't seemed angry or even mocking of her, but she couldn't say what he was thinking. For her part,
she was still unhappy with how things had gone yesterday morning. His mind had been shut more tightly than a prison cell, closing out any possibility of trying something new and different. Not that she was surprised. He had a set idea of how things should be done, and any divergence from that path had to be bad.

When he finally made it to the edge of the lawn, he paused instead of approaching her as she expected. She furrowed her brow. What now? But just as she opened her mouth to ask what he wanted, he began unbuttoning his jacket.

Her eyebrows shot clear up her forehead. What the devil was he doing? She waited, head tilted in a mix of surprise and confusion, to see what he was about. Without saying a word, he pulled the jacket off and laid it across the little stone bench beside him.

And then he started in on the cravat.

Her heart gave a little leap as she hurried forward. “What exactly do you think you are doing?” She sounded like a reproving nursemaid, but really, how was she supposed to think properly when he was disrobing before her?

He continued working at the fabric, his chin lifted. “Loosening my chi.”

May narrowed her eyes. Either he was mocking her, or he was walking in his sleep, because the duke she knew would never consider doing such a thing.

“Why?”

“Because you asked me to.” He spoke so matter-of-factly, it was rather thwarting.

She crossed her arms, unconvinced. But then the cravat came off, and she found herself quite distracted by the naked length of his throat and the small but tantalizing glimpse of the hollow where his neck met his chest.
Goodness. All this time of wishing that he would loosen up a bit, and when he finally did, she was the one who was at a loss for words. Which was ridiculous, given the number of men she'd seen in various stages of undress during her travels.

Swallowing, she rallied. “But that was yesterday. A solid and solitary twenty-four hours have passed, and I have quite moved past it.”

He smiled blandly. “As you can see, I have not. It simply took me a little time to think it over.”

“Are you really so bad at making decisions?” she countered. “If so, it's little wonder parliament never gets anything done.”

His amber eyes showed nothing but calm determination. “Decision-making is something at which I excel. Apologies are not. As a gentleman, I must apologize for not showing proper respect to you yesterday.” He dropped the neck cloth on top of the jacket and gave her his full attention. “Shall we proceed?”

A man who could apologize and make good was a rare breed, indeed. She couldn't imagine what would have brought about such a change in him, but if he was truly willing to try this morning, she certainly wasn't going to turn him away. Biting her lip against a pleased smile, she nodded.

If nothing else, this promised to be interesting.

Turning on her heel, she led them back to the center of the lawn. “I know it may sound excessive,” she said, diving right into the lesson, “but each move of the routine I do took a full week to properly learn. They aren't complicated, but it is important for one to be able to perform them with an absence of thought. It should be so natural, one could go through the entire set with their mind in a whole different place altogether.”

She was momentarily distracted as he began to roll up his sleeves, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of this forearms. What was it that kept him in such good shape? Did he make a sport of riding each day? His arms were leaner than those of the sailors she was so accustomed to, yet she could see the clearly defined muscles as he moved.

“I am willing to give you today, Miss Bradford,” he said with a small, droll curve of his lip. “Perhaps we could speed up the process.”

“Yes, obviously. I'm merely pointing out that it is impossible to impart the full experience in one small session. Still, we'll be able to go over a few of the basics so that you'll be able to get the feel of it.”

He nodded. “I am at your command.”

Now that was a phrase a woman could get used to. She didn't even try to contain the smile that came to her lips. Doing her best to ignore how rakishly handsome he looked standing in the grass, his shirt loose at the neck and his embroidered forest green waistcoat cinching nicely at his waist, she clapped her hands together. “Very well. Let's begin with a few of the stretches to limber the joints and increase the pulse.” As though she needed anything to increase her pulse just then. “First, stand with your feet shoulder-width apart.”

He followed her lead. The buff-colored buckskin breeches fit him like a second skin, showing the flex of his muscles as he adjusted his position. Yes, he definitely must spend all his free time in the saddle, holding his body taut as Gray raced over the countryside. It was the only thing that could explain an idle peer having such an impressively toned physique.

“Good,” she said, forcing her attention to the task at hand. “Now, with your elbows straight but not rigid, lift
your arms in front of you until they are straight out from your body.”

She slowly demonstrated the move, then nodded to him. His arms came up much too quickly and with an unsurprising lack of grace. She shook her head. “You're not picking up a stack of firewood. Try to be more graceful. Like the way you dance.”

He quirked a brow as he dropped his hands back to his sides. “You thought me graceful, did you?”

“I said
more
graceful,” she countered with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “You're perfectly adequate as a dancer when you're not bullying your partner about.”

Humor flickered in his bronze gaze. He knew she was a liar.

She pressed her lips together. It was best not to linger on times spent in his arms. “All right, now try again, and slowly.”

This time, his movements were much more fluid. He was a very quick study, it would seem.

“Very nice,” she said, keeping her voice smooth and low the way Suyin used to do when May was learning. “Turn your palms upward, and then bend your elbows and pull the air toward your face, dropping your arms as you move.”

He dutifully copied her every move.