Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(29)

Steele narrowed his eyes on her. “A good thing, too. You wouldn’t want anyone to see you wearing that ugly thing on your head.”

Justine blinked at his rude response. Now that she thought about it, on the occasions she’d run into him, he’d sometimes inspected her with a perplexed, almost disapproving stare.


“You dislike caps, Mr. Steele? Do they, perhaps, strike you as inappropriate attire for your household?” she asked, hoping to embarrass him.

“I dislike ugly ones,” he replied. “Especially on young women who have no business wearing them. It makes you look like an ape leader.”

She bit back the impulse to snap. “Since I am an ape leader, I have every business wearing one. Not that it’s any of your business,” she finished, giving in to temptation.

“My dear, you are nothing of the sort,” Dominic interjected. “Come to think of it, I don’t remember you wearing a cap the last time I saw you. I must say I agree with Griffin on this. You’re much too young to be wearing so dowdy a fashion.”

Justine felt her face flush, which she knew from experience clashed abominably with her hair.

“I hardly think you asked to see me to critique my wardrobe, Uncle Dominic—”

“Thank God for that,” murmured Steele.

Justine ignored the desire to pull off the offending cap and whack her host across his arrogant nose with it. “What did you wish to see me about, Uncle Dominic?”

Her godparent leaned over and patted her hands. Only then did Justine realize she was clenching them in her lap.

“I do wish to discuss a few things with you,” he replied. “But first tell me how you and the baby go on.”

Justine smiled. “I must admit that he’s a complete love. He’s a sweet boy, and gives me very little trouble.”

“Really? Is that why he’s been keeping us awake at night with his caterwauling?” Steele asked.

“I’m not sure how you would even know that, since it’s almost morning by the time you come upstairs,” Justine retorted. “I’m quite sure the baby doesn’t keep you awake at all.”

His dark brows lifted with amusement. “And how do you know what time I come to bed, Miss Brightmore? Have you been keeping track of my movements? I confess I’m intrigued by your curiosity.”

Justine gasped at his outrageous implication, but before she could respond, Steele cut a sardonic glance in Dominic’s direction. “I suppose you have her spying on me, don’t you? You never could keep your nose out of my business.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dominic said before returning his attention to Justine. “Is the baby proving difficult, my dear? Do you need more help? I will look about for a nurse who can be trusted, if that’s the case.”

“No, it’s fine,” Justine said, unaccountably annoyed. She rarely lost her temper and never with her godparent, but Steele had a knack for putting her on edge. She hated to think what she’d be like if she had to spend any appreciable amount of time with him.

She took a deep, restorative breath, and smiled. “I will admit that Mr. Steele is not entirely wrong. Stephen has been colicky, but I’ve been bathing him with lavender water and giving him small doses of chamomile tea. As a result, he was much better last night. Rose has been very helpful, too. I assure you, sir, we have everything under control.”

“I knew I could depend on you,” Dominic said. “I hope you realize how grateful I am for your assistance.”

His praise warmed her. Papa had once commented that nothing seemed to make her happier than being useful, and Justine supposed it was true. After all, if one couldn’t be of use to the people one loved, what was the point of life?