Page 13 of The Duke I Wished For
The little girl’s voice cut the awkward silence. “Tea?”
Both Daffodil and the duke turned to face the girl, who was holding out a teacup to Daffodil.
Daffodil’s heart melted right then and there. She didn’t even pause to consider. To refuse such a sweet invitation was unthinkable. She flicked her gaze to the duke, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
Smiling brightly, she moved toward the little girl. “I would love some.”
4
Well. This was a nightmare.
Blake studied the scene before him as his daughter took great pains not to spill any imaginary tea into Lady Daffodil’s tiny cup.
He pinched the bridge of his nose as he assessed the situation. This day had started off badly enough when he’d discovered that the new nanny he’d hired had decided to take a position elsewhere.
And now this.
Daffodil had come upon him taking part in a tea party. Blast it all. And she’d laughed at him…
Although, to be fair, that laugh had been rather lovely. It was so genuine and filled with such good humor, he’d almost been tempted to join in.
He might have, too, if he hadn’t been so keenly aware of how humiliating this was.
And now she was still here because his daughter had invited her and…blast. Had Clarissa really invited a stranger to her tea party?
His heart swelled with emotion. It had been an age since he’d heard her address anyone other than him. She shied away warily from his staff—even his kind housekeeper, Mrs. Barker. The nannies he’d hired only seemed to make her condition worse, as though she were terrified of these ladies he’d brought in to care for her.
But here, today, with Daffodil…
“Would you like another?” His daughter’s high-pitched voice was soft and sweet.
“I would love another,” Daffodil said. And then she patted her trim belly, comically wide-eyed as she said confidentially, “But only one more. My corset will simply not allow another bite after that.”
Clarissa giggled as she handed over an invisible…tart, perhaps?
“This cake is sublime,” Daffodil gushed.
Ah, so it was cake then. Blake felt his lips twitching and some of his earlier horror and shock abated into a wry humor as he watched this earl’s daughter dab at the corners of her lips with her napkin while pretending to chew a mouthful of cake.
Daffodil turned to the doll beside her and with the utmost sincerity said, “I do apologize. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
Blake scrubbed a hand over his mouth to hide a grin as Clarissa hastened to make the introductions. Not that he needed to bother hiding his amusement. Neither female was paying him any mind.
You’re not a tradesman. Inappropriate laughter bubbled up inside him as he recalled her earlier comment.
So she hadn’t recognized him then.
He wasn’t sure what to make of that. Did the girl make a habit out of talking to strange men?
Although he had to admit there was something delightful about the fact that she’d been so open and…well, odd around him. Which she likely wouldn’t have done if she’d known his identity.
He listened to her murmur quietly to the doll. Saying nothing of consequence, but all politeness and decorum. This was likely what he would have endured if she’d known who he was.
“Oh, I beg your pardon…” Daffodil turned to smile up at him, and for a moment, Blake forgot his own name. “I did not mean to kick you out of your own party. How very rude of me.”
Clarissa giggled, and Blake found himself playing along. “That’s quite all right. It was actually Mr. Dashwind here who took my spot.” He glared at the toy rabbit that stared blankly through glass eyes. “He’s always trying to steal my tea.”
Clarissa broke into peals of laughter and instantly came to Mr. Dashwind’s defense. And Blake tried not to notice how lovely Daffodil looked when she was smiling at him like that…like he’d just done something heroic.
