The Duke of Defiance (The Untouchables #5)(18)

“Must I?” Evie asked, sounding quite dejected.

“Yes, you’ll see Becky soon.”

Evie walked reluctantly toward her father. “At our house next time, since we have Mrs. Poole now?”

“I’ll arrange it with the Duchess.”

“The day after tomorrow would be fine, if that suits you,” Nora said, joining Becky near the tea tray.

“Indeed.” He gave Evie an encouraging smile. “See? It’s already set.”

She hugged her father again. “Thank you, Papa.” She turned and waved at Becky. “See you Friday.” Pausing, Evie looked toward Jo. “Thank you again for watching our play.”

Jo went over and crouched down to look her in the eye. “It was my pleasure. I shall look forward to your next visit. Remember, I promised to read Shakespeare.”

Evie grinned. “Yes, you did!” She looked up at her father. “Isn’t she wonderful?”

Knighton’s lips curved into a slight smile. “Perhaps you should be her governess,” he murmured.

She was certain he was teasing this time.

As they left, Jo wondered what it would be like to be governess in a household such as his. She wouldn’t be a servant, but neither would she be a member of the family. It would be, she realized, somewhat like the way she’d felt married to Matthias. The two of them hadn’t been much of a family, especially after—

She stopped the direction of her thoughts lest they lead her into a wilderness she had no desire to get lost within.



“Ha-ha!” Evie crowed as she penned in Bran’s fox with her geese. “You’re shut up now!”

Bran stared at the board and realized he was utterly closed off. “A well-deserved victory.”

“Finally!” Evie leapt up and danced around the drawing room, chanting, “I shut up Papa! I shut up Papa!”

Smiling, Bran shook his head at her as he pushed himself to a sitting position. He’d been lying flat on his belly for some time, and his body had grown stiff.

Just as Evie neared the open doorway, Kerr stepped over the threshold. She collided with his legs and stepped on his foot.

“Ow!” Kerr jumped backward. Bran didn’t realize the fifty-something man could move that quickly.

Bran stood. “Are you all right there, Kerr?”

The butler lifted his foot from the floor and moved it about. “She stamped on it rather hard.”

For heaven’s sake, she was a child and barefoot. Bran bit his tongue.

Evie had stopped her dancing and now stood near Kerr. “I am terribly sorry, Kerr. It shouldn’t hurt. I’m not even wearing any shoes.” She wiggled her toes.

Kerr looked down his nose at her. “I can see that. Atrocious.”

Bran’s ire pricked. “Kerr, you won’t speak to my daughter that way.”

The butler’s eyes widened, and he inclined his head. “My apologies. However, shoes should be required.” He directed his attention to Bran’s feet, then promptly frowned upon seeing that Bran wasn’t wearing shoes either. He, at least, had stockings on. Kerr’s gaze lifted, and his frown deepened. “As well as a coat or at least a waistcoat.”

Bran’s patience was nearly spent. “I’ve explained before that when it’s just Evie and me, we shall wear whatever I deem acceptable. There is absolutely no reason for her to wear shoes—or stockings. And I’ll dress however I damn well please.”

Kerr straightened, his face flushing the color of the hibiscus flower that grew outside Bran’s window in Barbados. “Well, it isn’t just you and Lady Evangeline. Lady Dunn has arrived.”

Hell. He’d forgotten she was coming today. He’d been having too much fun with Evie.

“I’ll tell her you’ll need a few minutes,” Kerr said crisply.

“Nonsense,” came Lady Dunn’s voice from just outside the drawing room. A moment later, she appeared at the doorway, her cane clacking against the floor as she came abreast of Kerr, who was now looking at her with a tinge of horror. Bran had to assume that Lady Dunn had committed an offense by showing herself to the drawing room.

The viscountess peered haughtily at Kerr. “Why you’d leave me loitering in the hall is beyond me. I’m family, you nincompoop.”

Kerr’s nostrils flared, and his face went scarlet hibiscus again. He pursed his lips together before pushing out the tightest sentence Bran had ever heard. “I’ll bring tea.”

“Please do,” Lady Dunn said to his departing back. She turned to Bran and clucked her tongue. “You might have to let him go.”

“I’m considering it.”

His godmother turned to Evie with a bright smile. “If it isn’t my favorite little girl. I’ve brought you something.”

Evie became instantly shy the moment Lady Dunn had transferred attention to her. Bran could see it in the slight droop of Evie’s shoulders and the curl of her toes against the floor. He went to stand beside her and put a comforting hand on the back of her neck. She’d met Lady Dunn only once before, and it often took a few meetings for Evie to become comfortable. Except in the case of Becky. They’d become fast friends. In fact, Evie had warmed to everyone in the Kendal household rather quickly, including Mrs. Shaw. Now, why was he thinking of her specifically?