To Surrender to a Rogue (30 page)

"It would be a great honor, Your Grace," she replied. "I know I am not the bride you would choose for your son. A widow, a foreigner, a bluestocking, a—"

"A lady who obviously makes him very happy," said the duke gruffly. He took off his spectacles and took a moment to polish them on his sleeve. "I may be an old battle-ax, but I'm not blind, Lady Giamatti. Jack has always been a Utile different. Marched to his own drummer, though I daresay he thought I didn't notice."

He cleared his throat but his voice remained a little rough around the edges. "I confess that I cast my eye around, looking for someone who might suit. But just as he has always done, Jack simply followed his own heart He rarely feels the need to rattle his saber, but anyone who thinks that quiet calmness indicates a lack of backbone is making a grave mistake. The lad has a spine of steel."

She stole a look at Jack and saw that for all his outward show of casual nonchalance, he was deeply touched by his father's oblique praise.

"As an expert in metallurgy, Your Grace, it's obvious to me what forged his character," replied Alessandra.

The duke's dark eyes—so similar in shade to those of his youngest son—lit with a warm spark. "Speaking of steel, I should like to hear more about Renaissance cannons. I have always wondered about—"

His words were interrupted as Isabella burst into the room and flung herself into Jack's arms. "Look, look, I drew a picture of you and Mama," she said proudly. "The two of you are kissing," she added, holding up a smudged sketch that displayed an imaginative tangle of limbs. "Marco said you wouldn't mind."

"It's lovely, imp."

"My daughter, Isabella," explained Alessandra to the duke.
"Tesoro,
remember your manners and make a proper greeting to Jack's father and brothers."

"Buongiorno,
everyone! Jack is teaching me how to paint, and how to ride a pony, and lots of other things," she announced in a rush. "Including how to behave like a proper young lady."

"Oh," said George. "Do you misbehave?"

Isabella bit her lip "I sometimes say bad words."

The duke chuckled. "So do I. Soldiers swear like devils."

She looked relieved. "Jack is a great gun!" she announced. "I didn't like him at first because he tied me to a tree."

"A
tree?”
said the duke, shooting Jack a bemused look.

She nodded solemnly. "Yes, but I forgave him because it was the only way he could go rescue my best friend, Perry."

"Isabella." Alessandra intervened with a gentle reminder. "That is a story for some other time." So far, the duke had been remarkably calm in confronting the sudden changes in his youngest son's life. But subjecting him to a chattering child was a little like setting off sparks near a keg of gunpowder.

"On the contrary, I should like to hear the tale of how my son rescued your friend," said Ledyard.

Isabella grinned. "It's a
corking
good story."

The duke offered the little girl his hand. "Well then, let us find a quiet corner, missy, and you can tell me all about it." As he passed Jack, be gave a wink. "I hope you will soon be adding a few more troops to the ranks of my grandchildren. It's a little too quiet at Ledyard Manor these days. During holidays, it would be nice to have a whole regiment of bantlings."

"Yes, sir." Jack grinned.

"Now, about the tree, missy."

"Remember the time we hung Jack by his ankles in the old elm by the fountain?" said Edward as his father was led away by the little girl.

"Ha, ha, ha," chortled Charles. "It took the gardener over an hour to find him and cut him down."

"And then there was the time Mils lashed one of the garden statues to the donkey cart..."

Giving a grimace, George took his two closest brothers by the elbow and made a face at Charles. "I see a tray of decanters on the sideboard. I suggest we reminisce over a glass of port, and leave these two a moment to recover from the shellshock of our sudden appearance."

"I see where you learned your skills with rope," said Alessandra dryly, as Jack's siblings moved off.

Jack smiled, the slow, subtle curving of his lips sending a thrill of tiny shivers down her spine. "The only thing I intend to tie these days is the knot that binds you to me forever" In the spark of silent laughter his eyes were warm as melted chocolate. "Unless you have decided that the rabble of rowdy Pierson males is too daunting a force to join."

"Let me think about it for a moment." As his brows arched, she reached for her reticule and searched through its contents. "Ah." Withdrawing a coil of twine, she pressed it into his palm. "Shall we go find a tree?"

The laughter moved from his eyes to his lips. "As long as it's somewhere secluded," he murmured after a long and lush kiss. "My hands will not be cold as ice against your bare skin, my love, but I cannot promise that they won't be doing something extremely improper."

"Si grande new diavolo
—you big, black devil. It's a good thing my favorite color is black." Alessandra kissed the corner of his mouth. "You are painting a
very
naughty picture."

"Mmmm." He gave a wicked grin. "As you know, I am quite skilled with a brush. And at the moment I am imagining some very creative uses for soft sable bristles."

"I have a feeling that I'm going to enjoy learning all about art, and the infinite nuances of style and technique."