Dukes By the Dozen

Georgie laughed. “She is no such thing.”

It was pointless to argue.

“Are you feeling perfectly well, Your Grace?” she asked, getting to her feet. “I can call for the local physician. He is old, but….”

He should have known this would be her reaction. “No,” he said, There was no avoiding it. He had to get to his feet as well. “No,” he said, grabbing his cane and hoisting himself up, his knee protesting like an unoiled hinge. “I am not ill. Please sit again so I might.”

She flushed, but she sat. Adam did the same, trying not to wince.

“And please,” he said. “My name is Adam.” He considered picking up his cup again and decided against it. He had a feeling he’d be on his feet again soon. “I was coming to see you anyway. I promise. Not only because I wanted to meet the woman who had stolen Jamie’s heart, but because I made a promise to him.”

“That is lovely.” Her voice didn’t sound like it. “But not to the point.”

He nodded and took another breath. “There is news,” he repeated. “Jamie’s mother has died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She neither sounded nor looked like she meant it. Having known Jamie’s mother well, he couldn’t really blame her.

“How can that concern us?” she asked. “Jamie’s family made certain we knew we were not welcome.”

“Well, since Jamie is…gone, it means that Lully has inherited. I need to take her with me to accept.”

Adam didn’t think you could see fire in the color green. He certainly could now.

“Inherited? Inherited what? Jamie was disowned.”

“You cannot disown a title, Mrs. Grace. Your daughter is now a duchess in her own right.”

She was shaking her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Girls cannot inherit titles. They pass along the males. My father was quite specific about that when he was complaining about his oldest two daughters.”

“Scottish titles can. This one passed from Jamie’s great-uncle to his mother to...well, it would have been Jamie. But now it passes to Jamie’s child. Which is where I come in. It is my duty to take her to verify her title.”

She was up again, glaring down at him. “Try not to be absurd. My daughter is not going anywhere. Certainly not to Scotland. You do realize that it is January, Your Grace.”

“Not Scotland immediately,” he acknowledged, eying his cane and wondering how many times he could get her to sit back down. “I should have made that clear. To London to secure her title, but she will need to travel to the estate in Scotland as soon as it is possible.”

She sat back down with a bit of a thump. “Well, she isn’t going. She is a four year old girl.”

He drew a careful breath, wondering why she should be so adamant. “You do know I am her trustee.”

She stiffened and seemed to grow in stature. “I know this is the first time since Jamie died that you have mentioned it, either in person or letter. We have been dealing quite successfully with Mr. Carson at the bank.”

“I know. But you were here with your brother and safe, and it didn’t seem there was anything I was needed for. And then Jamie’s mother died, and the duchy of Kintyre has passed to your daughter. But she must attend the Chancery Court to make it official.”

It was as if she completely froze. “In that case, she politely declines.”

“She cannot. Her people will suffer if she does not. The duchy will go into abeyance and most of their land given over to sheep, which would uproot all her crofters. I cannot allow that to happen, and so it is my duty to take the duchess home.”

She was glaring now. “She. Is. Four.”

“And as trustee I will act in her stead. But she needs to be there.”

She seemed to glide up to her feet, rising to her full height, which suddenly seemed not so insignificant. Following again to his own feet, Adam wondered suddenly how anyone could possibly think she was forgettable. She was Boedica, Titania, Maeve. He had the oddest feeling she was looking down at him, instead of standing at his shoulder.

And then she closed the conversation.

“No.”

Without another word she turned away and stalked out of the room, slamming the doors behind her with a force that made the walls shake. Ten minutes later Adam was standing out under the front portico waiting for his phaeton to be brought around after a much older man wearing livery ushered him out the front door and slammed it behind him.

Well, he thought, struggling into his driving coat. That went well. Wait until he told her it was about to get even worse.

CHAPTER 2

HE HAD a face that was completely forgettable. At least that was the way Jamie had described him. Only Jamie could have been so ridiculously wry. Adam Marrick, the Duke of Rothray was not, sadly, forgettable. He couldn’t even be dismissed as memorable. Even leaning on his cane like an octogenarian, he radiated power and command. His shoulders alone would have betrayed him, broad, lean, compelling. His body filled his corbeau coat and biscuit inexpressibles like poetry. If Georgie had met him before Jamie, she might have missed the sight of her husband altogether.