Page 16 of The Duke and his Muse
Graham rose to his feet behind his desk in the study and stretched. He’d finished writing about the hedgehog becoming lost and finding the group of woodland creatures in the forest clearing. Iris was a fun character to write as she had a forceful personality, a lot like his mother.
A thought came to him and he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out the miniature of his dead wife. He rang a bell on the corner of his desk.
“Please ask Mrs. Blight to come to the study,” he told the maid who entered the room a few moments later.
The nurse arrived soon after. “A maid is watching Daniel while he naps.”
“Very good. Please be seated.”
Once the nurse had taken a seat, he passed the miniature to her. Mrs. Blight looked over the framed portrait, her normally stern expression softening.
“I wanted to ask your advice, Mrs. Blight. Perhaps the miniature could be placed in the nursery? If you don’t think it would upset Daniel.”
The woman looked up and visibly swallowed. Her eyes were bright as she replied, “I do believe the child would like a reminder of his mother.”
“If you’re sure it won’t upset him?” he asked, sounding hesitant to his own ears.
“I think Daniel has come to terms with much of his grief. I will place the portrait on his night table and we shall see what he thinks of it.” She paused. “Is that all, your Grace?”
“My son has a lot of energy. When it is raining outside I would like to take him to the portrait gallery for a stroll. Has he spent much time there?”
“No, your Grace. As his mother’s portrait is there perhaps it is time he should.” The nurse rose to her feet.
“Thank you for your help in these matters.”
“Yes, your Grace.”
That evening, Graham visited the nursery and Daniel immediately grasped his father’s hand and pulled him to the night table to see Caroline’s portrait.
The little boy pointed at the portrait with his other hand. “Mama.”
“Yes, it’s your mother.” He felt a pricking behind his lids, the first time he could remember feeling such overwhelming emotion over Caroline’s death. “She loved you very much.”
He heard a sniffling sound, and spied Mrs. Blight blinking rapidly.
“Shall we finish building the castle we began yesterday?” He asked his son cheerfully, releasing Daniel’s hand and seating himself on the floor next to a pile of blocks.
“Castle!” Daniel clapped his hands and plopped down next to his father.
“You should get yourself a cup of tea,” Graham said to the nurse standing nearby. “We shall be quite all right for the time being.”
Mrs. Blight merely nodded and exited the room. Graham might be wrong, but he thought the nurse might just be softening toward him.
As he stacked blocks and listened to Daniel babble about their play, Graham thought about a comment his mother made the evening before over dinner.
“Have you thought about taking a wife again?” the dowager asked casually before taking a bite of asparagus.
“A wife?” He shook his head. “I think I have enough to be getting on with at the moment.”
“Daniel needs a mother,” the dowager replied in clipped tones. “If you plan on staying at Bartlett House, you will need a duchess to run the household.”
He frowned. Something had occurred to prompt this conversation. As he hadn’t said he was unhappy or lonely, he had no idea what had set his mother off.
“For the time being, I am busy not only getting to know my son, but with estate business and writing a children’s book. We can revisit this conversation when I’ve completed my project with Miss Hayward.”
His mother had not looked particularly happy at his response but said no more on the matter.
Whatever had made her decide he should look for a wife?
