Page 46 of The Truth About Love and Dukes

“Twelve,” Colin said.

“Just so, and have you turned twelve since that rule was made?”

“No, sir.” Colin looked up, his face brightening as if he’d been struck by a sudden idea. “But I had a good reason for climbing the tree, Uncle Henry. It wasn’t just to get the kite.”

Torquil’s mouth twitched unmistakably. “Indeed? And what reason could possibly justify breaking the rule about tree climbing?”

Colin set down the basket and bent over it, disappearing from Irene’s line of vision. When he straightened, he had in his hands a small bundle of gray-and-white fur which he held up for his uncle’s inspection. “I had to get this.”

Irene stifled a laugh with her napkin, and Torquil pressed his lips tight together, clearly trying not to do the same. It took a moment for him to speak. “You rescued a kitten from the tree?”

Colin nodded. “It was stuck, and crying, so I had to rescue it. I couldn’t just leave it up there, scared and all alone, Uncle Henry, could I?”

The kitten blinked up at Torquil and gave a soft mewl.

He made a choked sound. Pressing a fist to his mouth, he turned away from the boy and the animal, and only Irene caught his expression.

He was laughing. She stared, amazed, for she’d never seen him laugh before. He wasn’t looking at her, but down at his plate. He made no sound, but his fist was pressed against a wide smile, and his shoulders worked with silent but unmistakable laughter that he was trying desperately to hold back. The sight had the strangest effect on her; her amazement ebbed away and another sensation took its place, one both sweet and painful that pinched her chest and made it hard to breathe.

After a moment, he lifted his head, gave a cough, and lowered his hand. “Rescuing an animal is a commendable thing,” he said gravely, returning his attention to his nephew, no trace of laughter in his face now. “But should such a circumstance occur in future, you will fetch an adult to assist you in your rescue attempts. The rule about tree-climbing remains in effect. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Colin lowered the animal, hugging it to his chest. “Can we keep it?”

Torquil frowned, but though Irene knew firsthand how intimidating his frown could be, it didn’t seem that way to her at all after what she’d just witnessed. “With all the rules you’ve broken today, I see no reason to think you can be trusted with the welfare of an animal.”

They wilted, poor boys, and Irene had to press her hand to her mouth to prevent a sound of commiseration from escaping her lips.

“On the other hand,” he went on, “you did save the animal’s life, which means you are now responsible for its future well-being. So, if your father does not object, and if you promise most sincerely to take proper care of it—see that it is fed and groomed and if you handle it gently and with respect when you play with it, you may keep it.”

With a shout of happy celebration that was quickly smothered, a chorus of promises to always care for it and never break any rules ever again, the two boys departed for the kitchens with their new friend to obtain for it some milk and gruel.

The moment they were safely gone, all the humor Torquil had been holding back was unable to remain suppressed. He fell into his chair with a full-bodied, merry laugh.

Irene laughed with him, but after a moment, her laughter faded. His did, too, as he turned his head to look at her, and Irene’s heart seemed to stop beating in her chest. Time seemed to halt as well, and the silence, as it had last night, seemed to fill the room, every bit as charged as before, but in a very different way.

His face bore its usual impassivity, and she had no idea what he was thinking, but just now, that didn’t seem to matter. She’d seen him laugh. Her heartbeat resumed, quickening until it was a hard, panicked thrum in her chest, so loud to her own ears that she feared he might be able to hear it.

“So,” he said, breaking the agonizing silence and giving a cough, “you’ve now met my infamous nephews, Miss Deverill.”

After what had just happened, the use of her surname seemed strangely impersonal, almost disappointing, which was absurd. He could refer to her no other way, for it wasn’t proper for a man to address a woman he barely knew by her Christian name, and Torquil was all that was proper.

Irene dismissed this nonsensical feeling of disappointment from her mind and forced herself to pick up the thread of the conversation. “You do realize Colin climbed the tree to get the kite, then saw the kitten, and used the animal as his excuse for breaking the rule about tree-climbing so he wouldn’t get into trouble?”

“Of course, but if one intends to issue a reprimand, one has to sound at least somewhat severe.” Torquil laughed again, shaking back his hair as he leaned back with his tea, and Irene felt again that strange, piercing sensation in her chest. “Assuming such a stance at that moment was, I confess, beyond my ability.”

“What was all the shouting?” asked a voice from the doorway, and they both looked up as Angela came in. “The boys, I suppose? I could hear them all the way upstairs. What are we to do with them?”

“Don’t worry, Angie,” Torquil replied. “I am hiring a nanny today, as I promised.” He shot Irene a questioning glance, and when she nodded, there was no need for her to guess what he might be thinking. He smiled, and that strange pang once again twisted in Irene’s chest.

Suddenly, it seemed impossible to sit here. “I should go,” she said, grabbing her handbag from the floor beside her and rising to her feet. “I’m so late already.”

He rose at once. “Of course. Shall I have one of the footmen hail a taxi for you?”

“I can easily do that. We’re on Park Lane, after all, taxis everywhere. Besides, you shall have need of all the footmen, I fear, to keep an eye on those boys. Good morning.”

She bolted, not realizing until she was out of the house that she’d left her gloves behind. She didn’t go back for them. Being in his sights was hard enough when he was being impossible. When he was being nice, it was devastating.

Chapter 11

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