Page 25 of The Duchess Trap
And something unfamiliar twisted low in his chest: pride.
He clasped his hands behind his back, forcing his voice into its usual cool neutrality. “See it done.”
Her eyes flicked toward him, startled by his easy agreement. He met her gaze steadily, unwilling to offer more. She lowered her lashes again, but not before he caught the faint flush rising in her cheeks.
The silence stretched until it was broken by a shriek of laughter just beyond the office door. The sound pierced the walls, high and insistent, followed by the patter of feet.
Duncan’s brows knit. “Children,” he muttered.
Mrs. Simms rose, flustered. “I shall see to them?—”
“No, no.” Catherine’s hand shot out, light against the matron’s sleeve. “Let them come.”
Before Duncan could object, the door burst open, and half a dozen small bodies tumbled into the room. They skidded to a stop, wide-eyed, then stared at him as though he was some apparition dragged from a storybook.
“Good heavens,” Duncan said under his breath.
“Children,” Catherine said gently, her smile soft. “This is the Duke of Raynsford.”
For one horrible moment, silence reigned. Then?—
“Are you really a duke?” one boy demanded, his hair sticking up in all directions.
Duncan blinked. “Yes.”
“Do you have a sword?” another shouted, eyes round with excitement.
“No.” He was a tad bemused by such an assertion.
Where did this child get that notion?
“Do you have a horse?”
“Yes.”
“Two horses?”
“More than two.”
The room erupted. A chorus of oohs and gasps rippled through the group.
He saw Catherine bite back a laugh, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes dancing. He caught the sparkle there and felt heat rise in his chest.
“Do you live in a castle?” a small girl asked, clutching a rag doll to her chest.
Their voices overlapped, high and shrill, tugging at his ears. Duncan knew not how to respond. He had so little experience with children and was not sure if he ought to single out one andanswer all their questions or if it was best to pull back and simply let the kids talk amongst themselves.
Catherine’s gaze lingered from the edge of the room, steady and expectant, daring him to stand his ground.
Duncan straightened, drawing himself to full height. “No. I live in Raynsford Hall. A house.”
“A big house?”
“Big enough.”
“Bigger than this?”
“Yes.”
