Mr. Hunt, I Presume (Playful Brides, #10.5)(7)

“Then he caught you working?” Derek asked with a grin.

Collin lowered his brows. “It’s bloody ridiculous to force someone to take a holiday.”

Derek tilted his head to the side and regarded his brother. “It might do you some good, you know.”

Collin rolled his eyes. “Don’t you start, too.”

Derek contemplated the brown liquid in his glass. “I’m merely saying relaxation isn’t terrible.”

“It’s also not what it’s cracked up to be.” Collin took another drink, and this time it burned down his throat and settled hotly in his gut.

“I’m pleased you decided to pay us a visit at least. We’ll enjoy ourselves. Go shooting, riding, have a few dinners with the local gentry. Drink.” Derek lifted his glass with a smile.

Collin leaned his head against the window frame and sighed. “Yes, well, I decided if I must spend time away from work, I might as well pay my niece and nephew a visit.” He glanced toward the door. “Where’s Lucy, by the by?”

“Seeing to the children,” Derek replied. “She just hired a new governess, and she’s been busy showing the woman how she likes the nursery to be managed.”

Collin turned his head to look at his brother. “What happened to the other governess? Miss Langley, was it?”

Derek cracked a smile. “She married.”

“Thank heavens,” Collin replied. “She was a lovely young woman, but I got the distinct impression that Lucy was trying to match me with her. It made me deuced uncomfortable.”

Derek laughed. “You weren’t wrong. Lucy adores matchmaking, as I’m certain you’ve gathered. She tried to match poor Miss Langley with half the male guests who entered the house before Mr. Benton came along.”

Collin stared out the window again. “I wish them well.”

“I do too. I just hope Lucy doesn’t try to matchmake the new governess.”

Collin moved from the window and dropped into one of the two large leather chairs that faced Derek’s desk. He arranged his jacket. He’d discarded his uniform for regular clothing, garments he rarely wore. He felt odd in them. “Is she comely?”

Derek took another sip of brandy. “Honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t met her yet. Lucy hired her just before we left London and provided her with fare to take the mail coach here. The woman arrived this morning, not an hour after we did, and Lucy hurried her off to the children’s rooms before I had a chance to greet her.”

“Well, the poor woman should be careful. If she doesn’t want to marry, Lucy may not be the best choice of employer for her,” Collin said with a laugh.

“I’ve tried to explain to Lucy a half-dozen times that it’s not particularly conducive to keeping a governess for the children if she continues to marry them off one by one.” Derek sighed. “But Lucy cannot seem to help herself. She’s says she’s a matchmaker at heart.”

Collin knocked back the rest of his drink. “As long as she doesn’t try to matchmake me, I’m fine with it.”

“I’ll be certain to remind her to leave you be,” Derek said. “Now, what’s on the agenda for the next fortnight?”

Collin sighed and stretched out his legs in front of him, staring glumly at the reflection of sunlight on his polished boots. “I suppose I should see about relaxing. To that end, I intend to have a completely peaceful stay in the country with absolutely nothing to worry me.”

Derek lifted his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”





Chapter Five





Erienne glanced around the magnificent bedchamber that belonged to Lady Mary Hunt, the duchess’s adorable, precocious, three-year-old daughter. The child was as beautiful as her mother. She had the duchess’s curly black hair and her father’s dark eyes. Lady Mary had already endeared herself to Erienne by toddling over, executing a perfect little curtsy, and saying, “It’s vewwy nice to meet you, Miss Stwone.”

Erienne and Lucy had exchanged glances and hid their smiles while Erienne performed a similar curtsy to little Lady Mary. “My pleasure, Lady Mary. And may I say you have fine manners, indeed.”

“Thwank you,” Lady Mary replied. She clasped her little hands together and asked, “Do you have a dwog?”

“A dwo—?” Frowning, Erienne glanced at Lucy for an interpretation.

Lucy smiled and shook her head. “She wants a dog. She’s been asking for one for as long as she could speak.”

“Oh,” Erienne said, lifting her skirts and crouching so that she was at Lady Mary’s eye level. “I do not have a dog, but I should very much like one. I adore them.”

Lady Mary clapped her hands. “Oh, gwood,” the little girl exclaimed. “I want to name my dwog Cinderwella.”

Erienne pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. She could tell the little girl took the subject of procuring a dog and naming it quite seriously. “Cinderella?”

“I gave her that book for her birthday. She adores it,” Lucy explained.

Erienne turned her attention back to Lady Mary. “Well, I think Ella is a perfectly lovely name for a dog.”

“Me twoo,” Lady Mary said, beaming.