The Duke of Defiance (The Untouchables #5)(19)

Lady Dunn interrupted his wayward thoughts. “Come, my girl, let me sit and I’ll show you.” Bran’s godmother walked to a settee and sat down, resting her cane against the side. She had a small paper bag in her hand and placed it on her lap.

Evie had followed and now perched beside her. Bran folded his arms to watch.

“Do you like sweet things?” Lady Dunn asked her. At Evie’s nod, she continued. “What about castles?”

“I don’t know that I’ve seen a real castle. Not up close.”

Lady Dunn turned her head to throw a dark stare at Bran. “You have taken her to see the Tower, at least?”

He hadn’t thought of it. “Er, not yet.” He’d ask Mrs. Poole for a list of things he should take Evie to see. Better still, he’d ask Mrs. Shaw.

“What’s the Tower?” Evie asked.

“It’s a very old castle here in London, rich with history, and there are many things to see there, including the Jewel Office.” Lady Dunn said the last with great flair.

Evie gasped. “Jewels?” She lifted her gaze to Bran’s. “Papa, may we go there?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to see what I brought you?” Lady Dunn asked.

Evie nodded enthusiastically. “Is it a jewel?”

Lady Dunn chuckled. “No.” She opened the bag and lifted out a small item, which she placed in Evie’s hand. “It’s a castle.”

Evie stared down at it, her lips curving to form a perfect O. “It’s a very small castle. It’s adorable.”

“It’s marzipan. You can eat it,” Lady Dunn said.

Evie’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh no, I shan’t ever do that. It’s far too precious!” She went back to studying the miniature building.

Mrs. Poole entered the drawing room, followed by Kerr, who carried the tea tray. He went about setting it up on the table in front of Lady Dunn.

“Lady Dunn, allow me to present Evie’s new nurse, Mrs. Poole.”

Mrs. Poole curtsied. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”

“And a good afternoon to you, Mrs. Poole. What a delightful young charge you have here.” Lady Dunn inclined her head toward Evie.

Mrs. Poole beamed. “Yes, she’s a joy.”

Evie bounded off the settee to Mrs. Poole. “Look what Lady Dunn brought me! It’s a tiny castle!”

Mrs. Poole squatted down and studied the candy. “Is it marzipan?”

“Yes, but I shan’t eat it. I can’t wait to show it to Becky tomorrow.”

“An excellent plan,” Mrs. Poole said, straightening. “Come, it’s time for our afternoon reading time.”

Evie started to leave, but turned to face Lady Dunn. “Thank you ever so much. I shall treasure it always.” She pivoted and skipped from the room, Mrs. Poole on her heels. Kerr had left just before them, as quietly as he’d come in, much to Bran’s satisfaction.

Lady Dunn clucked her tongue again, her lips curving up. “Evie is lovely. What a marvelous relationship you have.” Her gaze settled on Bran. “Is your attire the reason for Kerr’s pique? I see you’re as defiant as ever.”

He suppressed a scowl. How he hated being called that. “I’m not. I’ll tell you what I told him—it’s my damn house, and I’ll dress as I please.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

Thankfully, Hudson arrived just then with a waistcoat and other garments. He said nothing, merely came to Bran’s side and held the items over his arm. Bran donned the waistcoat.

“You needn’t do that on my account,” Lady Dunn said. “I’m not about to be terrorized by seeing you in shirtsleeves. As I said to Kerr, we’re family.”

Hudson arched a brow in question, silently asking if Bran wanted the cravat or the coat. Bran shook his head slightly and Hudson departed. Damn, it was good to have at least one exceptional retainer on staff.

When they were alone, Bran sat in a chair near the settee. “Can I pour you some tea?”

“Yes, please.” She watched him fill her cup. “Just a bit of sugar, thank you.”

He finished and handed her the cup and saucer.

“Thank you, dear boy.” She took a sip and lowered the cup back to the saucer. “I’d like to apologize for my comment earlier. I meant no insult when I called you defiant.”

That description, coined by his mother, had followed him throughout his childhood. He’d rarely done what was expected or asked of him, largely because he simply couldn’t. Aside from his clothing intolerance, there’d been his refusal to eat certain foods. Or sit still. Or stay in bed all night.

When his nurse failed to make him comply, his mother would lose her temper and thrash him until he’d succumbed. And in some cases, he hadn’t. She’d banished him to a small closet on plenty of occasions, which had been fine by him. At least there he could wear whatever he liked. Or not wear, as was his preference.

Gradually, he’d learned to hide his…defiance. It had never completely gone, however.

“No apology is necessary,” he said. “I’m afraid I was a bit worked up due to my encounter with Kerr.”

She sipped her tea again. “I’ll say it again—I hope you’ll consider replacing him.”