Page 3 of The Duke and his Muse (Wayward Dukes’ Alliance #32)

Graham had taken a morning ride and finished breakfast when Mrs. Blight approached him in the study, Daniel in tow.

“I thought perhaps you would like to spend some time with your son today,” the woman said, her chin raised. The sleepy-eyed woman from the night before had disappeared to be replaced with a judgmental nurse.

“I would!” He rose to his feet and walked to the little boy. When Graham was a few steps away from the child, he went down on one knee. “Good day, Daniel.”

The boy did not cower this time but stared fixedly at a spot beside Graham’s left shoulder. He turned slightly to see what the boy was staring at. All he could determine was it might be the brass statue of a dog on the corner of the mahogany desk.

“Does the boy like dogs?” he asked the nurse, returning his attention to the boy.

“Loves them, your Grace. All animals, really.”

“It is a shame we have no dogs at Bartlett House.” He smiled at Daniel. “We do have other animals. What do you think of horses, Daniel?”

The boy looked at him then, not scared, merely curious. Graham cautioned himself not to try too hard with the boy. He didn’t want to alarm the child.

“Horsies.” Daniel smiled up at his nurse.

“He has seen horses on the estate although his mother… The duchess was careful to not allow him too close to the large beasts.”

“He is rather young for such a large animal. Perhaps we could get him a puppy.” He heard the words and smiled to himself as he’d always wanted a pet himself. “Soon. What else does he like, Mrs. Blight?”

“Books. He loves to be read to.”

He nodded. “Excellent. What books?”

“A series of books called Forest Friends. They are written for children but are quite entertaining for adults as well. The duchess read the books to him every evening before bed.”

“Well then.” Rising to his feet, he announced brightly, “I think Daniel should introduce me to his favorite books.”

* * * * *

Jane stared at the letter in her hand, quite taken aback by its contents. She’d never received a letter from a duke before. Although, in truth, the letter was addressed to her recently deceased father.

Dear Mr. Hayward,

My young son is enraptured by your Forest Friends series of books. I wish to commission a book written especially for him. Please advise as to what such an endeavor would cost and I will forward your payment, my son’s name, and when I should like the book completed.

Sincerely,

Graham Bartlett, Duke of Exeter

She didn’t wonder at her father’s publisher sending the letter along although her father was deceased. Mr. King’s head clerk hadn’t taken her refusal of his suit well. She imagined he’d forwarded the missive to complicate her quiet life.

There was nothing for it. Although the duke was not a close friend or relative, she would write a reply to the gentleman and inform him that the author of the children’s books was deceased.

Maisie entered the parlor with a feather duster in hand. “So what did his loftiness, the Duke of Exeter want from your father?”

“He wanted to commission a book for his son,” she replied shaking her head. “The child adores my father’s books. Alas, I am no writer, just an artist.”

“An illustrator , Miss. Are you sure you couldn’t write a book for the duke? Not that you need the income, mind you.” The maid began to haphazardly dust around the room.

Although Jane knew the maid had only entered the parlor because she was curious what the letter had contained, she didn’t mind. Maisie was her constant companion now, her confidante as it were.

“I will write the duke and inform him the author of the series has passed. When I read the notes for the new book my father had planned, I did try to write a story worthy of the series.” She shook her head. “Writing a compelling story is not something I can do, Maisie.”

Oliver picked that moment to leap onto the back of her chair and rub his head on her hair.

“Oliver! You silly boy.”

The feline next took up his usual spot on her lap as Maisie drifted from the room..

“You may bask in my affection for only a little while as I must respond to the duke’s letter.” She rubbed Oliver’s head with one hand. “Mustn’t keep a peer waiting, you know.”