Page 9 of The Duke’s Sworn Spinster (A Duel and a Wedding #1)

Chapter Seven

A few hours later, as Lydia was passing a massive set of doors, she heard the sound of laughter.

She poked her head inside to see the small library.

The room looked to be in a state of chaos.

Large books had been taken off the shelves, and the couches had lost their cushions.

All these items were collected in the center of the room, stacked together to create a fort.

“Make haste, my friends, for we set out on torturous seas for the island of Hy-Basil.” Iris leaped out of her fort with a wooden sword in hand.

The fort was a makeshift ship, the walls made out of books with several stacks set up to create a bow and stern at the front and back.

Iris stood up at what Lydia assumed was the bow and raised her sword outward like an explorer on a mission.

She looked adorable in her pink, poofy dress and flamboyant pirate’s hat with a feather so large that it fell in her face.

“What great treasures shall we find Captain Iris?” a deep booming voice said, and to her surprise, Archer appeared with his own flamboyant hat, a pirate’s eye patch, and a tiny wooden sword at his belt.

It was a bizarre sight to see, and even more strange was how he bowed to her, every bit the loyal first mate to Iris’ pirate Captain.

“The great magician, Oisin, has hidden his most powerful talisman somewhere on the island, guarded by giant, black fluffy bunnies!” Iris raised her sword aloft, adjusting her hat as it slipped further down her face. “We shall tame the bunnies and make them guide us to the treasure!”

“We must hurry, Captain Iris, for only one day every seven years is the island visible. If you are true of heart and kind of spirit, the will-o’-the-wisps shall guide you far past the fog and onto the island’s shores.

But be warned, my Captain, for if you do not leave at the stroke of midnight the island will return home, and you will be trapped in Tir Na Nog for the next seven years. ”

“Chart us a course, Mr. Pickles!” Iris shouted. She jumped down from her perch and took a teddy out of her fort and placed him on top of the bow. “Hoist the anchor, Beanie,” and a little bunny popped out and Iris placed him on the side of the ship. “Fly the colors, Uncle.”

“Ay-ay, Captain Iris.” Archer saluted.

Lydia held back laughter as she watched the Duke tie a little pirate skull bandana to the top of a broomstick they had situated in the middle of their fort to act as a mast.

Unfortunately, in her effort to stifle her laughter, it turned into a snort, and both Archer and Iris looked over at her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” Lydia felt heat fill her cheeks with embarrassment.

Iris flew out of the fort, almost tripping over the books as she stumbled toward Lydia, grabbing her skirt to prevent herself from falling over. “Come play with us, Auntie Lydia.”

Lydia chewed on her lip. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Please!” Iris was bouncing on the balls of her feet and pulled on Lydia’s skirts. “Please, please, please!”

“You will find that once Iris has her heart set on something, she will do whatever it takes to get it.” The Duke stepped over the fort and rummaged through a little toy box off to the side of the library.

“Apparently that is something of a family trait,” Lydia said before she could stop herself.

Archer pulled out another pirate’s hat, as big and feathered as theirs. “I’m sure you can spare a few minutes for some fun.” He placed the hat on her head. “We could use a cabin boy,” he suggested and tilted her chin up with his index finger and thumb.

Despite herself, she could not help but rise up to the challenge in those molten amber eyes.

“Of course, every good ship needs a cabin boy! I am so glad you volunteered!” She smiled, reveling in his momentary confusion before turning to their young niece. “Captain Iris, have we a mop for the young lad?”

“Of course!” The young girl grabbed a pool stick and handed it to him.

“It appears I have been demoted,” he observed as he looked down at the piece of wood.

“Ay mate-y!” Lydia could not keep the smirk from her face, and Archer squinted his eyes at her.

“Come on, you scallywags! We set sail for the island yonder! Do not make me ask again!” Iris called as she clambered back into her boat.

Archer shook his head as Lydia laughed. As they clambered into the ship together, Lydia brushed against him, and spots of color appeared on her cheeks. It was hard to avoid him, and the closeness made her head swim. Perhaps this was not such a good idea.

The inside of the fort was covered in pillows and blankets. They were surrounded by stuffed animals of every kind, most of whom had little knitted pirate hats, vests, and eye-patches.

“Do you love my teddies?” Iris squealed. “Auntie Juliet makes little outfits for them.”

“That’s impressive,” Lydia said, admiring Juliet’s handy work. “She is very talented.”

“I know.” Iris nodded importantly. “I cannot wait until I can sew like that.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time if you keep pulling your little pranks on your governesses.” Archer gave his niece a stern look that was undermined by his eye patch. “Though it seems Miss Boyd is at least made of stern stuff.”

Iris giggled, “I put jelly in Madam Islwyn’s slippers. She screamed so loud it woke up my aunties. They thought someone had broken in and tried to assassinate Madam Islwyn. But I don’t want to talk about that. Let’s play!”

Iris leaped back onto the bow and raised her sword.

“I’m the pirate Queen and the commander of the seven seas.

” Iris turned to Lydia. “I’m half-fairy, half-mermaid, and this is our crew.

” Iris named off all her stuffed animals one-by-one, giving her details about their personalities and their horoscopes.

“And this is Mr. Pickles,” she said, pointing to the last stuffed animal Lydia remembered from the start of their game. “Mr. Pickles is very sympathetic and a good listener. He goes with me to church every Sunday and always likes to play whatever I want to play, don’t you, Mr. Pickles?”

“I love church,” Archer said in a high-pitched voice, catching Lydia by surprise. “And hugs.”

Iris continued to introduce her toys excitedly with Archer giving each toy its own voice. As soon as Iris turned away, he gave her a look. “Don’t even think about repeating that to anyone.”

“Fret not, cabin boy, your secret’s safe with me.” She gave him a wink.

“Just you wait, Lydia, a mutiny might be closer than you think.” Archer grinned at her.

“There they are! They were right! The last person to spot the island says they saw giant black bunnies as big as horses! They are so fluffy!” Iris squealed, so overly excited she was shaking. “I want one!”

“Iris,” a voice said, “there’s no such thing as a bunny as big as a house.” A fierce-looking woman in a gray dress stood in the doorway watching them. “I’m afraid it’s time for her studies, Your Grace.”

Archer sighed as he got up. “Come on, Iris. Playtime is over.”

“But I don’t want to,” Iris pouted.

Lydia was about to interject when she remembered what Archer had said about not interfering. She bit her tongue and watched as he bent down to speak to his niece.

“Come little one, you know you need to go for your lessons, so you can grow up and know all manner of clever things, just like your aunts.” He gave her a dazzling smile.

“I suppose.” Iris glanced at Miss Boyd and then whispered in that childish way that ensured that everyone could hear, “But I don’t like Miss. Boyd.”

Lydia gave the woman an apologetic look, but she appeared unmoved by the child’s comment.

“That’s not very nice to say, Iris.” Archer chided gently. “Now, run along and go to your lessons.”

“Okay.” Iris sagged and followed Miss Boyd from the room.

“You’re really very good with her,” Lydia observed as they left.

“You sound surprised.” Archer arched an eyebrow at him.

“If I had not seen it myself, I do not think I ever would have imagined you would play quite so indulgently with her,” Lydia teased him. “Cabin boy.”

She began to tidy up the room, expecting Archer to leave or to tell her that the servants could do it, but to her surprise, he bent down and began to help. She shot him a quizzical look.

“I try and make a point of tidying up when Iris and I play together. To model good behavior. We may have servants, but I do not want her thinking that making a mess and then expecting them to clean it up is an acceptable way to behave..” Archer shrugged as he scooped several cushions into his arms.

“You really are unusual.” Lydia canted her head towards him, lips pursed. “Most men of any noble rank, let alone a duke, would not concern themselves with such things.”

“And most duchesses would not either,” Archer pointed out.

“I am barely a duchess.”

“No.” Archer’s voice was firm. “You are every bit a duchess. You are my duchess.”

Her heart skipped, and her eyes met his. “In name at least.”

“In the eyes of the ton, that is all that matters,” he replied.

Their fingers brushed as they each reached for the same pillow, and he jerked his hand away. Heat flushed through Lydia as he stood and moved to the other end of the room. “I’ll put away the books. You just take care of the pillows and blankets, and her toys go back in her toy box.”

Lydia nodded and began putting away the small armada of toys, but she stopped when she saw Archer putting the books back on the shelf without any apparent organization.

“How on Earth do you find anything?” Lydia asked, frowning. Her fingers itched to take the books from him and rearrange things, but then she remembered the coldness that lay beneath his warm mask, and she stopped.

“I have a system,” he explained, trying to keep some emotion in check.

“It doesn’t look like any system I have ever seen.” Lydia frowned at him. “They don’t even seem to be organized in by genre.”

“That’s because it is the Iris classification system.” He grinned at her perplexed look. “These are ones that I am happy for her to pull down from shelves. These are those that really are not suitable for her to read, but that she seems to always discover. These are her favorite bedtime books.”

“You really do adore her.” Lydia smiled at him.

“I challenge anyone to meet her and not instantly fall in love with her.” His face was soft, and it made Lydia’s chest ache.

“She is rather sweet,” Lydia agreed. “A delightful little rascal.”

“Exactly.” After a long moment, Archer turned to her and said, “Thank you. For playing along with Iris, I mean.”

“I’m surprised you asked me to join,” Lydia admitted without thinking. “But I am glad that I did. It was nice.”

“She’ll have you playing with her whenever she can,” Archer warned.

“I don’t mind. It reminds me of when I was that age. My father…” Lydia swallowed and continued, “My father was a very busy man, but he would always find time to play with me. Though, our games were less about make-believe and more often based on pretend business ventures.”

“I imagine you were quite the little mogul.” Archer’s mouth quirked into a smile.

“A little.” Lydia tugged self-consciously at the sleeve of her dress. “I would also act out the occasional play for him though he forbade me from reading Dr. Faustus—apparently it was far too depressing.”

“I’d have to agree. The world is grim enough without adding to it by reading that dreary tale.”

“I would have thought it would be your cup of tea.”

“I prefer Shakespeare or more modern things like the romantics. Why seek out darkness? There is plenty of that already.” Archer shrugged.

“My father used to have a set of Shakespeare’s comedies. Beautifully bound in the finest leather you have ever seen. I had to sell it last year to pay some of the servants.” Lydia looked at the floor.

“We should get you another set then.” Archer’s voice was soft, and she looked up at him. “I know it would not be the same, but I am rather partial to the Bard’s comedies myself.”

“I bet you would be a most convincing Puck,” Lydia teased.

“Oh, fair Lydia, I could play any part.” He gave her a dramatic bow. “But we both know I would be Oberon.”

“And would that make me your Titania?” Lydia laughed.

“I suppose it would be amusing to watch you fall in love with an ass.” He caught the pillow Lydia threw at him with an amused expression. “Though I perhaps you would be better suited to Hermia.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Hardly. I am not the sort of woman that any man will look at, let alone two.”

“False modesty is rather tiresome.” The Duke’s voice was a gentle rebuke.

Lydia hugged her arms around herself. “It is not false modesty. I simply know I am no great beauty.”

“No. You are not a typical beauty. But to say that you are no great beauty, that is not true.” His voice was soft with a hoarseness to it that made her look at him.

He is a rake. Her brother’s words echoed, and the smell of rain and mud rose in her mind. She needed to hold onto Archer’s change the day before. I will not fall for his charms.

“Pretty words, Archer, but that is all they are.” She gave him a smile and left before he could say another word.