Page 9 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)

9

Ash

A sh stopped in his tracks. Now that he had washed and changed, he had gone in search of his daughter for some target practice. He was ready for a distraction, a reprieve from Lady Felicity’s presence. By shooting guns and breaking things. That was healthy, was it not?

When inquiring after his daughter, he was informed Pandora and Lady Felicity had visited the kitchens after leaving the arena. But he hadn’t expected to find the scene before him when he reached the kitchens: his daughter and Lady Felicity, laughing, smiling, and covered in flour.

His daughter looked so unbelievably happy it made his teeth ache. It was a painful joy, seeing his daughter look earnestly up at Lady Felicity, seeking approval and affection. And Lady Felicity providing it.

He was glad his daughter was establishing that relationship with Lady Felicity, but it was Ash’s fault she’d never had it to begin with. Why she didn’t have a mother, lost her mother when she was a mere babe of two.

And then Lady Felicity began talking to Pandora about governesses and behaving like a lady. Ash had stepped back into the shadows and listened, not wanting to intrude on their moment. Though he had no qualms with eavesdropping, apparently.

Lady Felicity had related her own experiences to Pandora’s, creating a common ground, a bond. She compared dressage to dancing, helping his daughter see that perhaps viewing something in a different light could make all the difference in mastering that particular skill. It was as though she truly wanted to help his daughter, as though she truly cared.

And Ash truly didn’t think he could handle that or the intoxicating feeling sweeping through his chest.

He hadn’t missed her careful answer to Pandora’s question about dancing with Colborn. He knew that was Lady Felicity’s polite way of getting around answering negatively about a young girl’s brother. And if his reaction to her words didn’t make him the worst father… Because a part of him breathed easier at her response.

Having eavesdropped quite enough, he stepped back into the doorway and leaned against the doorframe, casually observing the two women, unbeknownst to them, and waited for them to notice him. Watching while Lady Felicity continued to give Pandora much-needed advice woman to woman, advice on how to be strong, to equip yourself against battling society.

How had he ever thought her docile? The way she spoke, she had armed herself with weapons of charm and grace and accomplishments. She was brilliant, strategic, and completely unexpected. She was exactly who he would have wished to be a mother to Pandora, preserving his daughter’s unique qualities, yet also providing her with the necessary skills to thrive in a world rigid and confining. One determined to reject those who didn’t fit its mold.

“And sometimes you will discover learning certain things you didn’t find interesting before, become interesting when you have the right company,” Lady Felicity was saying.

Wasn’t that the truth? He was fairly certain he could watch Lady Felicity while she watched grass grow and find it interesting.

Pandora stared adoringly up at Lady Felicity. “I think you are exactly right, Felicity. Like baking with you. I never thought much of baking, but I would always bake with you.”

His breath caught. Shite. This was killing him—seeing his daughter establishing this relationship with Lady Felicity. It was good, he reminded himself. When Lady Felicity married Colborn, she hopefully would be around often to interact with Pandora.

It just wasn’t good for Ash, for the feelings it was drumming up in his heart. Ones fighting valiantly against the barriers he’d erected. It was the same thing he’d felt when he saw his daughter in Lady Felicity’s arms back at the arena, being comforted, protected.

An incomplete image of family…gradually filling out.

He shook away an old man’s deluded musings. Shooting pistols at breakable targets suddenly sounded very, very, very appealing. He blew out a breath. He needed distraction.

“Papa!”

He looked up, and though he tried to keep his gaze on his daughter, he was weak. His stare fell to Lady Felicity. And in that moment, he was helpless to hide the emotions swirling dangerously inside him.

Her hand went to her throat, a nervous movement. His gaze dipped, and naturally he couldn’t avoid taking in her bosom, nearly spilling out of another too-small dress.

He had almost pitched face-first into the dirt of the arena when her shawl had slipped. He was sure it had been on purpose. Little did she know, as much as he found her breasts delectable—seeing her befriend and support his daughter?—that was a much more dangerous and effective battle tactic.

She dropped her hand, and his lips twitched. She now had a flour handprint around her throat. Pandora frowned and glanced at Lady Felicity, needing to know what had her usually stoic father near laughing, he was sure. And she promptly burst out laughing, pointing at Lady Felicity’s neck and her flour-covered hand.

Lady Felicity glanced down at her flour covered fingers and then broke out in a fit of giggles herself, attempting to use her shawl to brush away the powder.

Not embarrassed, not upset…

Just happy.

An unsettling tremor shook through his chest.

He cleared his throat. “Are you ready for target practice, Pandora? Or should we reschedule? I hate to interrupt you ladies, especially since you rarely are granted time with Lady Felicity.”

“Yes, we’re ready! Felicity is very excited. She has never shot a pistol before. But I told her you are the best of instructors.”

His body went still, his daughter’s words registering. Lady Felicity’s words from earlier came flittering back. I never thought I’d desire shooting a pistol. But I am quite excited to try now with you.

Ballocks. He hadn’t intended for Lady Felicity to join them. It was to be a reprieve from her tempting presence, a welcome distraction until dinner. But there was no way to politely uninvite her, nor for him to back out now.

It looked like he would have to brave Lady Felicity’s allure again sooner than he’d hoped. And—instruct her to shoot? His arms wrapped around her? His body pressed against hers?

Hades send him strength, because it was clear he needed to pray to the devil with how he was destined for hell.