Page 14 of The Duke and his Muse (Wayward Dukes’ Alliance #32)

Nearly three weeks later, Maisie excitedly presented the post to Jane in the parlor. “There is a letter from Mr. Davis in the lot.”

“My goodness, there is!” Jane moved to her writing desk and placed all but one letter on the corner of the mahogany piece of furniture. She retrieved a silver letter opener from the center drawer of the desk and opened Mr. Davis’s missive.

“He wants to publish our book!” She grinned. “He loves it and wonders if I would consider adding to the series.” She sobered. “With the duke, of course.”

“His Grace seemed to enjoy writing the book,” Maisie shrugged. “He might help with another.”

She shook her head. “What if he returns from London engaged? The new duchess won’t want him consorting with the likes of me.”

“The likes of you? Your mother was the daughter of a baronet. You’re talented, kind, and quite generous.” Maisie sniffed. “And he won’t return engaged. He merely went to London to prove to the dowager he cares for you.”

“Maisie,” she sighed, slumping onto a stuffed chair, the letter still in her hand. “That makes no sense at all.”

“It’s all the gossip below stairs at Bartlett House. The duke is smitten with you but the dowager wants him to be sure in his feelings. The duke rushed into marriage with his first wife and his mother is worried for him.”

She admitted that made sense. “Do you really think the duke cares for me?”

“He’s better at hiding his emotions than you are, Miss, but I could tell he didn’t want to leave the cottage after his last visit.” Maisie perched nearby on a hardbacked chair.

“If something did happen between us I would have to leave the cottage. Give up my home.” She looked about her, seeing memories in every corner of the room.

“You could keep the cottage, Miss. Whyever not?” Maisie frowned.

“Do you think Oliver would like Bartlett House?” she mused aloud.

“That beast makes himself comfortable no matter where he is. And the duke said the boy needs a pet.”

She giggled self-consciously. “I’m planning my future and I don’t even know for sure how the man feels about me.”

“You know, Miss.” Maisie added softly, “You’ve experienced such pain in your life. It’s time for happiness now.”

* * * * *

London was as stimulating as ever and Graham enjoyed showing Daniel the sights of Town. The stuffed animals on display at Bullock’s Museum had been one of Daniel’s favorite haunts and they’d visited once a week.

The boy’s only interest in the Tower Of London had been the menagerie.

Graham was not especially thrilled to have his son so close to dangerous caged animals and they’d not visited the site again.

Daniel was happy enough to picnic in Hyde Park and run along the Serpentine or explore the gardens of Regent’s Park where Graham owned a home.

The dowager had accompanied the party to London and while Graham spent the day with Daniel, his mother somehow found nightly entertainments for her son to attend despite the season being over.

Graham insisted on one night a week at home to catch his breath. One of his childhood friends would often drop in, and Graham discussed his future plans quite openly with them.

“She sounds a decent enough match,” the Duke of Suffolk said one evening. “How is your new estate agent coming along?”

It was the same with all his male friends: they could care not one whit about Miss Hayward’s station.

The Duchess of Suffolk merely commented, “Do you like the girl? Marriage can be a long business. Liking each other helps.”

He felt he knew more about Jane than he’d known about Caroline. Miss Hayward wore her feeling on her sleeve for all to see. Caroline had been secretive, and he’d never understood her at all.

Would Miss Hayward give up her independence? She was a strong, capable woman, used to running her own affairs. And what of her cottage?

He smiled as he thought of the little cottage in the woods. They could visit the house often. Daniel liked to go there. And there was Oliver. Daniel would finally have a pet. He chuckled to himself. Planning a future with a woman who didn’t know how he felt about her.

“What’s so funny?” the young, widowed wife of an earl asked him breathlessly. It seemed she was quite breathless whenever she spoke to him. And her lashes fluttered oddly whenever he was near her.

“Just thinking about the future,” he replied promptly, and excused himself from under his mother’s watchful eyes.

They would depart London for Exeter in a few days. He was ready to go home. Ready to woo the lovely lady illustrator.