The Duke of Defiance (The Untouchables #5)(69)

“Yes.” He reached for her hand and twined his fingers with hers. “Perhaps if you came to see it tonight, you could offer more insight.” His gaze sparked with intent.

Jo’s insides melted, and despite knowing better, she leaned toward him.

Just as a maid stepped into the office and stopped short with a loud “Oh!”

Jo whipped her hand from his and pivoted from him. Bran backed up to the desk and leaned against it once more.

The maid dipped a curtsey to Bran. “My apologies, my lord. I came to light the fire for the evening. I didn’t realize you were here.”

“It’s quite all right,” Bran said, gesturing toward the hearth. “Please.”

Jo stepped from her path and went to the door. Turning her head, she told Bran she’d see him at dinner.

As she made her way upstairs, her hand drifted again to her belly. One would think she would feel better with this potential turn of events, but until she knew for certain, everything seemed far more tenuous than it had yesterday. She had only to be patient.

And pray.



Bran paused in the doorway to the drawing room where he was meant to dine this evening. The dining room was in disarray with new wallpaper being installed, so dinner for him and Jo would be served here. Normally Evie would join them, but she had gone to Becky’s for the night.

Only, the room had been transformed. White linens that reminded him of the mosquito netting they used in Barbados hung from the ceiling. He’d no idea who had put them there or why. They’d added several plants to the room, but more—from other areas of the house—had been added. There were also drawings pasted around the room—of flowers from Barbados, birds, and, of course, a turtle. Clearly, Evie had drawn them. And perhaps Becky. They did like to draw.

A table was set near the center of the room, amidst several drapes of the white gauze. He belatedly realized that Jo was already seated.

He strode toward her. “What is all this?”

Jo looked up at him, her hands folded in her lap. “The girls were here this afternoon. Evie wanted to recreate her home for Becky, so they enlisted Bucket and Hudson to help them. She asked Hudson specifically, since he’s the only one of the staff that’s actually been there.”

“It’s extraordinary.” He kept looking around the room, enchanted. “It really does remind me of home. Of Barbados, I mean.” He sat down opposite Jo at the small table.

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?”

“I don’t know.” His chest tightened. He hated thinking he’d never see those beaches again. But leaving it a second time would be torture.

“I hope you do,” she said softly. “It’s so much a part of you.”

The footman entered with the first course, which included cod and carrots as well as a soup. Bran poured wine—a madeira—as the footman served them.

They discussed their day while they ate and when the second course came, Jo laughed.

Confused, Bran asked why.

“There’s pheasant.” She looked up at the footman. “Do you know if there will be a dessert?”

“Trifle, madam.”

Jo laughed again briefly. When the footman retreated, Bran said, “I’m very confused at what is so amusing.”

“Evie and Becky quizzed me about my favorite foods the other day. I told them cod, carrots, pheasant, and trifle.”

“I still don’t understand. Is it your birthday?” He was going to feel horrible if he’d missed such an occasion.

“No. I’m not entirely sure what they’re up to, but they’re very dear.”

He looked around at the room again. Barbados for him. Favorite foods for Jo. It was a stretch, but were they trying to play Cupid? No, that seemed preposterous. They were children for heaven’s sake.

Bran shook the nonsense from his head and focused on his beautiful companion. “You look particularly lovely this evening. I admit I always look forward to seeing you at dinner.” She dressed more formally than during the day when she was performing her governess duties. The gowns she wore exposed more of her, and he had to admit he enjoyed the view. But it was more than that tonight. There was something about her, an inexplicable sparkle that seemed to come from within her.

“Are you certain it’s not your birthday?” he asked.

She laughed again. “I think I would know. My birthday is in September.”

“Well, you seem in particularly good spirits.”

She seemed to consider his statement before nodding with a smile. “I am, thank you.”

“I think it’s working out very well with you here, don’t you?” It hadn’t even been a month yet, but they’d settled into a pleasant routine, which included him visiting her chamber most nights.

He’d worried that the maid had seen him holding Jo’s hand the other day in his office, but when he’d queried Hudson, his valet had assured him that there was no gossip amongst the staff. Bran had argued that he might not be privy to it, but Hudson said he was close enough with a few of them to know. Bran had accepted his reassurances.

When the dessert course came, Bran had an idea. “I think netting on my bed will remind me of Barbados. Yes, that may be just what my chamber needs.” He was suddenly excited to order it. He finished his madeira. “I want you to come see it tonight.”