Page 66 of Never Beguile a Duke

“Have I displeased you?” Mr. Aylett asked, flinching as Silas’ mood instantly transformed from elated to exasperated.

“No, Mr. Aylett.” Silas yanked his jacket off his shoulders. “I’ve had quite an exhausting day, and I’ve lost a small fortune gambling.”

“Your luck will change, Your Grace,” said Mr. Aylett, entering the chamber and closing the door behind him. “I’ve never known you to quit a pursuit once you’ve decided upon the desired outcome.”

Although in this case, he very well may lose his chance with Miss Fernsby-Webb.

“Miss Sarah Gregory,” Mr. Aylett said, collecting the jacket and returning the article to the armoire, “will arrive precisely at ten tomorrow morning. She’s been told her charge is a nine-year-old girl and nothing more.”

“Has Miss Gregory previous experience?” Silas removed his waistcoat and cravat, then handed both pieces of clothing to Mr. Aylett.

“This is her first position. However,” he continued, speaking over Silas’ protest, “she seemed quite eager for the opportunity, and I knew a great man such as yourself wouldn’t hold her innocence against her.”

Silas’ eyes narrowed. “If you know my mind that well, you also know how much I loathe toad-licking.”

“A sentiment your daughter shares.” Mr. Aylett smiled as though amused by a private joke, took Silas’ trousers, and folded them before setting them inside the armoire.

“Something that I should know?” Silas leaned against the wing chair as he peeled off his stockings.

“Only if she wishes to share it with you.” Mr. Aylett bowed. “Have a pleasant evening, Your Grace.”

He didn’t. Consumed by thoughts of Miss Fernsby-Webb, Silas tossed in his bed, rolling over and over until the first warbles of the blackbirds and song thrushes predicated the coming dawn. Then he fell into a fitful sleep and dreamed of?—

“I hate you!”

Silas woke with a start as a deafening explosion vibrated the wall he shared with Juliette. The door opened and slammed. One moment after that, a soft tap came at his door, the handle depressed, and Juliette peeked her head into the dim chamber.

“Father?” She crept into the room and closed the door with a light click. “Are you awake?”

“I am,” he groaned and sat up. “What seems to be the trouble?”

She moved to the foot of the bed, clasped her hands in front of her waist, and said, “I don’t like Miss Gregory.”

“I heard,” he muttered, rubbing his aching forehead. “What did you break?”

“I may have shoved Miss Gregory.”

Ballocks! Miss Gregory hadn’t survived the morning.

“May have?” His eyebrows raised.

“It depends on who you ask.” Juliette shrugged.

“And if I asked Miss Gregory?”

“She would claim me to be a willful, disobedient child.”

Silas’ hand clenched into a fist. “That’s quite a moniker for a first introduction. Pray, what did you do to earn the title?”

“She wove in matching hair ribbons.” Juliette planted her hands on her hips. “And I informed her that was not how my braids were dressed. When I pulled out the ribbons, she threatened to spank me, so I pushed her into the wall and ran.”

“If you wish to sack her, you may,” he said, climbing from the bed. “I’ll not allow anyone to put one hand on you.”

And if Juliette doesn’t, I will.

“Will you accompany me?” Juliette asked, turning her back as he retrieved clothing from the armoire.

“Certainly.” He dragged a pair of trousers up his legs. “However, I expect you to find a replacement.”