Page 28 of Dominating the Duke

A very tall, lithe woman clad in close-fitting white cotton trousers, a skirted overcoat, and padding nearly everywhere, strode into the room. A lethal-looking boarding ax swung from one hand. She hefted a broadsword as if it weighed nothing with the other. A somewhat younger female version of Percy's heir trailed behind her with a flustered footman at her side.

"Shame on all of you. Young Whitcombe is his own man, aren't you? I'm sure he wouldn't be mocking the duke." Her Grace, Eleanor, the Duchess of Chelmsford, favored her husband with a wicked, indulgent smile. He pretended intense interest in the ledger on his lap, but his cheeks turned a bright crimson.

Cordelia snapped her fingers again, this time at her younger offspring. "Diana--. I trust you've finished all of your French conjugations for Madame Fraiche?"

"Of course, Mama." Her reply came through a mouth full of biscuit she'd probably charmed out of Cook.

Cordelia threw her hands up in surrender before turning back to her proofs.

Daedalus shoved his chair back and said, "I'll go make sure she's finished her lessons for the day." He threw his beloved daughter a half-hearted stern look to which she responded with a tooth-gapped smile surrounded by bits of biscuit crumbs.

Cordelia lifted her chin and gave the duchess a pleading look. "You won't really let her touch any weapons of destruction. Will you?"

El gave her a pitying glance. "Each of the children has a footman assigned to make sure they do not create, erm, mayhem on their own. For now, they merely watch what I do and then I let them replicate my moves with a small, harmless wooden sword."

Behind her, the Duke of Chelmsford gave an un-dukelike grunt. "Huh--. Perhaps you should assign two footmen to Diana. There is nothing harmless about that gel."

His lesson with his uncle and his book apparently forgotten, young Percy leapt to his feet "Where's my slashing suit?"

With an enigmatic smile toward the duke and the boy's parents, Her Grace said, "Yours is in the ballroom, my boy. Follow me."

Percy the elder could not help himself. "Is there any particular reason you need such deadly weapons to train children barely out of the nursery?"

El gave him a perfect, deliberately mocking imitation of his raised eyebrow and explained, "Just in case a polite fencing sword is not to hand..."

Like a pied piper in white, she disappeared with young Percy and Diana into the grand hallway outside the family sitting room which led toward the ballroom she'd had kitted out with padded walls and floors for battle practice.

Daedalus demanded of his wife, "Are they old enough to survive a lesson like that? What if Diana gets carried away? What if..."

Cordelia gave him an indulgent look and said, "He's the future Duke of Chelmsford. At least he'll be able to defend himself. Next month she's taking him with her on one of her, um, voyages, through the Mediterranean." She paused a moment, a thoughtful look on her face. "As for Diana, I'm quite certain the terror of the nursery floor could survive anything. It's the people around her whose safety I fear for."

The duke, who had learned to trust Her Grace in all things, stared after their retreating forms, noting ruefully the way both his nephew and niece gazed up at her with adoration.

"Oh, well. Cards, anyone?" He cocked his signature raised eyebrow at his brother and sister-in-law. "Something tells me this will take a while."

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