Page 10 of The Duke and his Muse (Wayward Dukes’ Alliance #32)

“These pages are lovely!” Miss Hayward nodded, her attention on the sheets of paper she held. “You’ve captured my father’s style very well.”

He was happy to hear her words. He’d enjoyed writing the pages and her approval meant a lot to him. “Your sketches are extremely helpful to set the scene. Do you have some of the stream? Of the rescue of Leopold?”

“I do.” Miss Hayward placed his pages on the table beside the tea tray and rose to her feet. “They’re just here in my writing desk.”

He eyed the piece of furniture she referred to. “That desk is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship.”

“It was my father’s,” the woman replied, retrieving several sketches from a drawer and returning to her seat on a stuffed chair across from him. Reaching across the low table, sha handed her sketches to him.

He looked over the drawings, four in total, impressed as before with her skill. “These are marvelous. No wonder your father’s books appeal to young and old alike.”

“Will that be enough for you to write out the next few scenes?”

He nodded, his attention still on the sketches. “I can’t wait to get started on the rest of the book.”

Their eyes met and he felt again that strange something that had startled him near the stream. It was attraction but so much more. He couldn’t describe it if he had to.

“Perhaps we could meet again in a sennight? I’m sure I’ll be done with these scenes by then. And I don’t want to take up your time forever.” He looked down at the drawings in his hands.

A commotion in the corridor outside the room heralded the arrival of Daniel and the maid.

“Cat! Cat!” Daniel ran to him and grasped his shirtsleeve.

“You met the cat properly?”

“Aye, Your Grace.” Maisie chuckled. “At least his tail.”

Jane sighed, and he was sure the maid would receive a lecture on her familiar ways with a duke.

“Shall we be off, Daniel?” he gently detached Daniel’s hand from his sleeve and placed Miss Hayward’s sketches in his portfolio. “I’ll leave the written pages to you. Thank you for a lovely afternoon. Until next week.”

Miss Hayward rose to her feet and curtsied as he gave a shallow bow. Maisie saw them out as Daniel objected to leaving the cottage. The boy was overtired and Graham did his best to calm the boy.

“Forest! Cat! Forest! Cat!” Daniel repeated the litany until he fell asleep in his father’s arms, exhausted from his long day.

Graham was just as disappointed to leave the forest and cat. For they both belonged to a young miss who’d captured his attention, and possibly his heart.

* * * * *

“He likes you, Miss.” Maisie sat across from her mistress after a light meal of roast chicken and vegetables.

“Daniel? I like him too.” She patted her full stomach. “What a lovely meal.”

“I was speaking of the duke, Miss, as you very well know,” Maisie replied with a snort.

“Maisie! As for the duke, you were far too familiar with someone of such social standing.” She struggled to sound disapproving. Maisie had become more of a sister than a maid in the last few years.

“I’ll mind my place next time he visits.” The maid stood up. “Will there be anything else, Miss?”

“Don’t be cross with me, Maisie. The duke told me how much he enjoys the sweets you make for tea.”

“Does he now?” Maisie raised a brow. “Anything else, Miss?”

“Your taking Daniel to the kitchen so we could talk about the book was a stroke of genius,” she said coaxingly. “It was very helpful.”

The maid nodded. “Your nightdress is on your bed. I’ll check the kitchen is tidy then I’ll be off to my own bed.” She paused to add, “Goodnight, Miss.”

“Goodnight, Maisie.”

As was their routine, the maid would go up to leave Jane in quiet. She loved to sketch in the evening, all cozy and warm in the parlor, Oliver asleep nearby.

It was nice if the duke liked her as they were working together. She liked him too. And Daniel, of course. Holding his hand that afternoon had felt right. He was a sweet little boy.

A sweet little boy who had alienated Oliver by pulling his tail a few times. No matter. The little boy would learn how to treat a pet. Jane was sure his father would teach him that and many other things as the duke had always been kind in her presence.

She read over the pages the duke had written again. Quite remarkably, he’d captured her vision exactly. They thought alike and worked so well together.

Her mind drifted to the few minutes they’d been alone in the parlor. His nearness as they both leaned across the table, the scent of his woodsy cologne. He spoke to her as an equal. He respected her work.

But then he’d mentioned not wanting to take up too much of her time. Perhaps he was tiring of their joint venture. He was a duke after all, with responsibilities she could never comprehend.

That wasn’t quite true. When her mother had been alive, their household had been much grander, with several servants to oversee. Jane had learned to run a small household if not a grand one.

Shaking herself, she placed the duke;s writing back on the table before her and picked up her sketch pad and a pencil. As she touched the pencil to paper it was not woodland creatures she began to sketch but a brooding handsome duke who she was very much afraid she had feelings for.