Page 55 of The Duke of Lies
The sound of Beau’s shriek made her hurry into the room, and she immediately saw the reason for her son’s distress. Rufus—or whoever he was—was already present in all his wounded glory. She winced at the dark purple bruise marring his cheek. And of course there was the long cut on the other side of his face, hidden if he held himself at a certain angle.
“Papa, what happened?”
She’d expected to be bothered by hearing Beau call this man—this confirmed stranger—Papa now. Shockingly, she wasn’t.
“I’m afraid I had a bit of an accident in the lumber room. But I’m just fine. Come and sit, and I’ll tell you about it.”
Beau sat in his regular chair at the table, while Rufus took his. Verity went to the sideboard and served her son’s plate.
“You’re truly fine?” Beau asked, sounding doubtful.
“Quite. It’s actually rather humorous.” He flashed a self-deprecating smile. “I was trying to cut a piece of wood, and it splintered in a rather spectacular manner. One piece sliced my face here.” He indicated the cut on the side of his face. “And another cut my hand.” He held up his bandaged left hand.
“That doesn’t sound very funny,” Beau said.
“Not particularly, but it’s what happened next. You see, I was so surprised that I spun about in an effort to avoid further injury. But in doing so, I lost my balance and fell into the wall rather hard. Hence this lovely bruise.” He lightly patted his cheek. “I’m glad you and your mother weren’t there, for it was my most graceless moment to date.”
Beau’s eyes were wide, but now they narrowed with laughter as he giggled. “I wish I’d been there so I could have seen it. Also, I would’ve taken care of you.”
Verity set the plate in front of Beau, her heart swelling at the concern he displayed for the man he thought was his father. As for him… Verity turned her head toward him, in awe of the ease with which he’d told this story she’d concocted and how he’d woven it into something amusing and charming, erasing Beau’s apprehension about the event. He was, in a word, wonderful.
“Can I dish up your breakfast?” she asked.
His eyes reflected a flash of surprise. “Thank you. I’ll take—”
“I know what you like.” She gave him a smile as she served him a meat pie, smoked herring, bacon, and two rolls, one with honey and one with marmalade.
As she put the plate in front of him, he looked from it to her with admiration. “You do know what I like.” And then his gaze settled on her mouth, and his meaning was clear—he’d liked kissing her.
Well, good, because she’d more than liked kissing him. She had absolutely nothing to compare it to, but the sensations of joy and pleasure and overwhelming heat had kept her awake nearly until morning. She ought to have been tired and lethargic, but instead, she was excited and energized to meet the day. To meethim.
She stared at his mouth another moment, recalling the feel of his lips on hers, of his tongue in her mouth doing all manner of wicked things, of his hands on her, stoking a fire she didn’t know resided deep inside herself.
Abruptly, she turned and fetched her own breakfast and quickly returned to the table to eat.
“Papa, I want to have an indoor picnic today because it’s raining. Can we?” Beau shoved a roll into his mouth.
“Not so much at once, Beau,” Rufus said before Verity could, because she’d been chewing. He effortlessly inhabited the role of caring parent. Who was this man? Did he have other children? It seemed he must, for he was unaccountably excellent at being a father, and yet she couldn’t imagine him leaving them. A horrible thought struck her: what if he’d had a family and lost them to tragedy? Her breath caught at the notion. “An indoor picnic is an inspired idea,” he said, drawing her back to the present. “However, today I will be busy at the other end of the estate all day. There’s a bridge that Thomas and I need to see about repairing.”
Verity swallowed a bite of bacon. “Over that gully where the stream runs through?”
Rufus nodded as he speared a piece of herring. “It won’t survive another winter, and there are a handful of tenants who use it regularly.”
“Will you repair it, Papa?” Beau asked.
“I may, or the tenants might do it themselves. Thomas and I will assess the situation, and I’ll provide the materials.”
“You take good care of the estate,” Beau said. “I’m going to do that too.”
“Starting with your goats. Do you need to milk Jane today?” Rufus asked.
“Not today. Every other day is what Mr. Maynard said.”
Rufus looked at him with approval, making Beau beam. “You’re learning very well.”
Verity couldn’t quite believe her life right now. This man had stolen in barely a month ago and had become such an integral part of their family. He couldn’t leave. And though he’d said he wouldn’t, she feared he would. Why was he even here?
Does it matter?a voice in her head asked.
