Dukes By the Dozen

The gamekeeper glared at her with that look that betrayed his confidence that no woman could better him.

So Georgie smiled. “If truth be known, I’d like to see you try. I was charitable to Jem and pulled Murphy off. I will not be to you. Now go bring this news back to the marquess. And Dick. I will tell my brother of your part in this so he knows when he ascends to the title.”

At this point, the duke turned towards her. “May I add my own word, Lady Georgina?”

Georgina bestowed a huge smile on him. “I would be delighted, Your Grace.”

That definitely got the men’s attention. Half the villagers yanked their hats from their heads.

“Yes,” Adam said complacently. “You heard right. I have the honor of being the Duke of Rothray, which means I can easily make sure you vanish so thoroughly your parents won’t remember they had you. So take the lady’s warning to heart. Because if any harm comes to her child, you will be punished for it, whether you were involved or not. And if her beast here doesn’t destroy you, I will.”

“We’ll be happy to help, y’r lordship!” one of the villagers piped up. “Yon little girl is one of ours.”

Adam turned a smiling bow on him and all the smiling villagers.

“Now,” Georgie said. “Both of you best be going before I change my mind and give Murphy here a treat.”

At the subtle flick of her finger no one else saw, Murphy let loose with another unnerving growl. Dick gathered the reins.

“One final question,” Georgie spoke up before she lost her nerve. “Where were you to take her?”

Clem’s expression was pure malice. “Hopkins Home for the Insane. Yorkshire.”

Adam’s hand was back under her elbow, keeping her upright. Murphy wasn’t the only one who growled as the gamekeeper whipped up the horses and lumbered off. Sweet Jesus, Georgie thought. Sweet suffering Jesus. She knew her parents hated her. But that they could do that to a baby, no matter the reason. Their own grandchild. It was impossible. It had to be impossible.

“I may have to kill him myself,” she muttered, her head down, her stomach roiling with fury and grief.

“Happy to help,” Adam assured her. “Do you really have items of theirs Murphy can scent?”

She snorted. “Of course not.”

“Missus Grace?” one of the villagers spoke up.

Georgie lifted her eyes to see Mr. Jenson the butcher frowning at her. “We’ll keep an eye out too, My Lady. Nobody’ll take that child.”

Tears welled again, hot and bitter. But she saw the rest of them nodding and smiled. “I am blessed to have you all as neighbors. Now, I believe it is about time for tea.”

“We just had tea,” the duke reminded her.

“In that case,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Brandy.”

John Coachman helped them back into the curricle and waited for Murphy to reclaim his seat and the grooms to mount before turning the vehicle about. Georgie clasped her hands in her lap, her fingers white from the strain. She could feel the trembling set in. She wasn’t unfamiliar with it. When her cousin Gervaise had tried to kill Jamie, she had reacted much the same way. Cool and collected until the danger had passed, only to fall apart in the middle of the kitchen, much to Mrs. Prince’s astonishment. It had taken four glasses of sherry and three slices of gingerbread to calm her.

She had a feeling that today four glasses would just be a start.

Adam tried to lay his hand atop hers.

“Don’t,” she snapped, rearing back.

He pulled away, obviously surprised.

“I apologize,” Georgie said, her voice thinning out with the building tears. “I don’t think I can maintain my composure if you offer comfort right this minute.”

She knew he was watching her like a mad horse, just waiting for her to kick out. She didn’t think she cared. As long as he didn’t touch her, she could hold off the storm. And she had to do that until she saw Lully and reassured her everything was all right.

And then she needed to speak with the duke and put all this nonsense to rest.

CHAPTER 5

LULLY, it turned out, was in far better condition than her mother. She and Hattie were ensconced in the green and yellow nursery having bread and butter with her dolls, whom Lully was regaling with the story of the bad man who had been vanquished by brave Lully, monstrous Murphy and Hattie’s ferocious umbrella. Georgie managed a smile. By the time young Jamie came home, it would be an epic poem filled with swords and dragons.

Georgie left Murphy there, happily dozing in the corner with the bone Mrs. Prince had awarded him like a heroic soldier, and went to change her dress yet again. When she’d walked back in the house Mrs. Prince had pointed out the blood on her skirt.

“Ned?” Georgie asked her.

“He’ll limp for a while,” Mrs. Prince had said, “that’s f’r sure. But he’ll mend. He’s a good boy, I’m thinking. An evil deed to force him to this.”

“Yes,” Georgie agreed, her chest tightening another degree. “An evil deed.”