Page 8 of The Duke and his Muse
“Daniel is quite shy himself and perhaps could give inspiration for completing the book. I think it is a very good start and would be a wonderful way to honor your father.”
At the quirk of Miss Hayward’s lips, he feared he may have gone too far. She sighed and eventually responded, “I can see no harm in it.”
The woman did not elaborate. He placed her father’s notes on the table next to his teacup and rose to his feet.
“You’ve heard of Bartlett House?”
“I have.”
“If you would like, you could join my family for tea on the morrow. I could send a carriage for you at say, eleven o’clock?” Daniel would have had his nap by the time Miss Hayward arrived at the house after her journey.
“That would suit.” The woman stood up. “I will see you out.”
Miss Heyward followed him from the room and into the entry hall where his hat and coat rested on a bench. He donned his outerwear and nodded to the lady as she curtsied.
“Until tomorrow.”
As he rode back to Bartlett House, Graham wondered how he had accomplished so much without trying. The young woman used words sparingly. She hadn’t seemed cowed by his status. Shehadseemed affected by the plight of Daniel.
He hadn’t lied when he said the books were comforting to the boy. That and the presence of his nurse. The woman had yet to warm up to Graham and he wasn’t holding his breath. It didn’t matter. If Mrs. Blight’s presence brought Daniel comfort, he could bear her low opinion of him.
Chapter Five
Once Jane had returned to her chair in the parlor and Oliver regained his place on her lap, Maisie bustled into the room.
“Going to have tea with a duke tomorrow. Well I never.”
“You were listening in the corridor,” she replied with a shake of her head.
“Of course I was. A tall, handsome duke visits us… Of course I was listening.”
“You will accompany me, of course.”
Maisy winked. “Of course. What will you wear?”
“The blue crepe. It is my best dress,” she replied quickly. “I have very little else suitable.”
“The haberdashery in town would sell you fabric, and I am quite handy with a needle,” Maisie pointed out.
“I have nowhere to go to wear such finery.” She shrugged. “The visit tomorrow is merely for me to see the young child who is so distraught.”
Maisy nodded. “You have a kind heart, you do. And his Grace must have found it out.”
She was silent for a moment, thinking back to the loss of her own mother. That loss had spurred her father to write his children’s books. Jane had always drawn the creatures of the forest and her father took inspiration from her work.
“And mentioning finishing the book to honor your father.” Maisy chuckled. “He’s a sly one, he is.”
Jane nodded. “I noticed that as well.”
She did have to admit the idea of completing the book still crossed her mind. Perhaps meeting the little boywouldgive her inspiration to finish the story about the shy hedgehog.
It had been some time since she’d sketched her forest friends. As Maisy exited the room with the tea tray, Jane retrieved a sketchpad from a drawer in her writing desk in one corner of the parlor. Another drawer held her charcoals. Taking her instruments of art back to her chair, she placed them on the table next to her father’s notes.
She picked up her sketchpad which still had a page displaying a drawing of a hedgehog and looked over it with a critical eye. It definitely looked like a young male. Her father hadn’t named the character just yet. Daniel was as good a name as any she supposed. The Roe deer in the series was named Betsy, the bird, Iris, and the fox, Leopold.
Yes, a male name would be perfect for the hedgehog. Betsy was the motherly character, while Iris was rather a know it all. Leopold was clever. Daniel would be a shy addition.
Jane would meet the boy and that visit would either convince her to work on the book or it would not. It did not matter that his father was a duke; grief touched people of all stations. She remembered how sad she had been when her mother passed and she had understood what was happening. The young boy probably had no idea where his mother had gone, the poor mite.
