Page 14 of The Duke In My Bed (The Heirs’ Club of Scoundrels #1)

“But she’s upset,” Louisa explained, rubbing Sybil’s back while she boo-hooed louder. “She knows she shouldn’t have touched whatever it is and she’s in trouble for doing so.”

The creases in the duke’s forehead deepened. “Why would she be in trouble when it’s not broken? And I don’t understand her crying when she’s not in trouble.”

Louisa wasn’t sure she understood the duke either. “Perhaps that is because it is you who doesn’t understand young girls, Your Grace.”

“That is a given, Miss Prim, because, good Lord, this is nothing to cry about.”

Louisa gasped. “Did you just swear in front of the girls?”

“What?” The duke looked incredulously at her. “What? No. I mean saying ‘good Lord’ is not swearing.”

Louisa placed her hands over the ears of the sniffling Sybil, and Gwen put her hands over Bonnie’s ears. “You said it again.”

“I did not, I mean—” He stopped and gave Louisa a deep, penetrating stare that let her know in no uncertain terms he thought she was being unquestionably harsh about her stance.

Her back stiffened.

He relented and said testily, “Then pardon me for my language, ladies.”

Louisa was sure that was not what the duke first intended to say. “I think we should wait out in the carriage for Mrs. Colthrust to finish,” Louisa said.

The duke touched her upper arm. “Wait.”

Louisa looked down at his hand on her arm. His grip was warm, firm, and gentle, and yet strangely possessive. His expression had softened a little, but she still couldn’t believe he’d actually touched her.

He removed his hand and said, “Do you mind staying a little longer? I want to show the girls something.”

She hesitated.

“Something appropriate,” he added.

She didn’t know if she could trust him until the corner of his mouth twitched with a smile. She felt herself weakening and she knew that couldn’t be a good sign.

“I’ll watch what I say.”

Louisa finally said, “Very well.”

“Miss Sybil?” he asked. She lifted her head and looked at him with a terrified expression. “Everything is all right,” he said softly. “There is no reason to be frightened or upset, because you are not in any trouble. Can you dry your tears for me?”

She nodded and wiped her eyes and her cheeks with the backs of her hands.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, and held up the instrument she’d dropped.

She shook her head.

“It is a handle, a crank, and it’s made of brass,” he said. “It would be very difficult for anyone to break brass. Though it makes a lot of noise if it hits wood. Like this.” He knocked the handle on the table a couple of times to show her.

“I’m glad it’s not broken,” Louisa whispered. “Sybil, why would you touch anything in this house? You know better.”

“She has to touch everything,” Bonnie said.

“I do not,” Sybil complained. “Tell her I don’t touch everything.”

“That’s enough from both of you,” Louisa said. “Now, Sybil, what do you want to tell the duke?”

Sybil turned to the duke and said, “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I’m glad it’s not broken. Does that mean you aren’t angry with me?”

He leaned down and gave her a half smile and said, “I wouldn’t have been angry even if something had been broken. There’s nothing in this house I can’t replace. So no more crying, all right?” He held up the crank for her to see. “Do you want to know what this is for?”

“Yes, please.”

“I want to know, too,” Bonnie said.

The duke looked over to where the other girls had stayed motionless, fearing that Sybil was in big trouble, and he said to them, “Would you young ladies like to see and hear a music box? Come let me show you one that just arrived from India.”

“I love music,” Lillian said, and took a tentative step toward him.

“Then come on over. Don’t be afraid. Come on, all of you. No one is in trouble.” He looked at Louisa and said, “And no one is going to get punished, right?”

Louisa looked from the duke to Sybil and said, “Not this time. I think Sybil has learned her lesson. Now, the rest of you go see what he wants to show you.”

The girls joined His Grace by a table in the corner that held an intricately carved chest fashioned with inlay of mother-of-pearl on the top and sides.

They all watched while he attached the brass handle to the chest and gave it several turns.

He then opened the lid. A pleasant tune played as small lifelike figurines rotated around inside the box.

The girls were awed by it. They had seen music boxes before, but never ones with movements.

“See? Still works and it’s not broken,” he said, looking at Sybil and then over to Louisa. He smiled at her.

Sybil gave him a beaming smile and then gave her attention back to the music box.

When the music and mechanism stopped, Louisa was surprised at how patiently the duke showed Gwen how to turn the crank and start it playing again. He didn’t seem the least bit annoyed when he had to let Lillian, Sybil, and Bonnie wind the music box and let it play, too.

When it came around to Gwen’s turn again to start the music box, the duke looked at Louisa and motioned with his head for her to follow him to the other side of the room.

“That was very kind of you not to be angry at Sybil and to show the girls your music box. I can tell they are fascinated with it.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven for using foul language in front of the girls?”

“I suppose we are all raised with a different set of values as to what is appropriate and what isn’t for children.”

“Something tells me our childhoods were vastly different, Miss Prim and Proper.”

She started to make a retort about his nickname but on second thought decided to let it pass because he’d been so kind to Sybil and shown the girls the music box.

“Yes,” she said. “Starting with you being an only child and me coming from a family of six children.”

“And you being the daughter of a vicar and me being the son of a duke who encouraged me to have no boundaries.”

Louisa heard a dog bark and turned around to see her brother’s dog leap into Bonnie’s arms. The little girl squealed with delight, and the other girls gathered around them, giggling and screaming with joy, too, as they pushed and shoved to get their hands on the dog.

The duke flinched from the hysterical sounds, and his face twisted into a frown. “Good Lord… night—what’s all the commotion about?”

“It’s Saint,” Louisa whispered, almost not believing her eyes. She looked up at the duke. “It’s Nathan’s dog.”