Page 76 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

Bull just hummed noncommittedly.

Felicity cleared her throat. “Marcia, dear.” When she had her attention, Felicity tapped one finger on the arm rest of the sofa.

It was apparently the only reminder the girl needed. Huffing a sigh and rolling her eyes, she pulled herself upright, locked her ankles primly, and folded her hands in her lap. Marcia now looked like a perfect lady, despite the whole trousers-and-waistcoat thing.

Chuckling to himself, the Duke leaned on Ian to sit back into his wheeled chair. Once he was situated, his secretary gently placed the blanket over his knobby knees, and then took the Duke’s hand once more.

“Well,” declared Duncan, beaming at all of them. “Ian has told me so much about ye all, but I’m looking forward to getting to ken ye each better. For instance, Griffin, yer father is a vicar?”

“Was, Yer Grace.”

“Och, aye, I remember, he passed on a while ago.”

“Ten years ago.” Griffin couldn’t help the curtness in his tone.

But the Duke didn’t seem to mind. “I’m sorry for yer loss, lad,” he said in a gentle voice. “And I’m sorry ye have nae other siblings, or even close cousins. As I recall, I’m yer cousin through yer grandmother’s line, aye?” At Griffin’s terse nod, the older man waved his hand dismissively again. “But a happier topic. Since yer father was a vicar, I assume ye have brought yer children up in such way?”

Griffin managed not to snort derisively. Bring his children up in the same cold, utilitarian way his own parents had raised him? Not likely.

Felicity, bless her, seemed to understand. “My husband is not particularly religious, Duncan, but we are members of the Church of England.”

“Och, that’s a shame,” the old man baited, a gleam in his eye.

Rupert cleared his throat. “The primary differences between the Anglican Church of England and the Church of Scotland is that Scotland uses a Presbyterian structure, which comes from the Greek word presbyteros, of course referring to the church being elder-led.”

Marcia rolled her eyes. “And the whole predestination thing.”

“Yes, of course,” agreed Rupert. “There are theological differences of course, but the Church of Scotland recognizes the authority of the kirks, like Grandfather Calderbank’s, while the Church of England’s structure involves bishops and hierarchy.”

“Either way, we belong to the Church of England,” Felicity said firmly, and Griffin had to hide a smile by how prim and proper she sounded. He wouldn’t have guessed this little scientist of his had firm beliefs about religion.

Marcia was nodding. “But Papa taught us one of his father’s prayers before meals. Remember, Rupert?”

Her brother pursed his lips. From his expression, it was clear he didn’t—mainly because his sister had made it up—but was trying to be polite.

“This is delightful,” interrupted the Duke, fingers entwined with Ian’s. “I look forward to hearing about your other family traditions. But for now, tell me about yourselves. Rupert, you are clearly a genius.”

“Clearly,” the lad intoned baldly, “although I suspect I merely appear to be a genius when compared to my siblings.”

Marcia threw a pillow at his head.

Chuckling, Duncan turned to her. “And ye, lassie, are certainly a firecracker. I can see how your parents have their hands full with ye. As ye grow, yer father will be beating off men—”

Bull broke into chortles. “I sincerely doubt that, Yer Grace.”

“Call me Uncle Duncan, remember. And why would he not have to beat men off—”

“Please, for the love of God, Uncle Duncan,” managed Bull, in between laughs, “stop talking about Gruff beating men off.”

Griffin was having trouble containing his own snickers, and was surprised to feel Felicity shaking beside him. When he peeked at her, it was to discover her lips were pressed together, fighting laughter as well.

The knowing look she turned his way, as if they shared something, caused his blood to heat and his cock to twitch.

Or perhaps that was the way she slid her hand up his leg several inches.

Jesus Christ, this would be a terrible time for a cockstand, but how in the bloody hell was he supposed to control his reaction to her when she winked like that?

He wanted to taste her again.

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