Page 3 of The Duke's Impossible Deal
The cook’s knowledge of medicinal herbs was a lifeline in the house, and one of the many reasons Rowen had decided to hire her.
“Mother?” a small voice called from behind her.
Rowen turned to find herself looking at the familiar faces of her children.
The twins shared her dark hair and grey, piercing eyes. They each had her delicate little nose, though their lips were more like their late father’s, and their smiles could melt the most hardened of hearts.
Rowen closed the distance between them and scooped them into her arms, breathing in their scents. “Thank goodness you are both safe.”
“Ugh! Mother, you are wet.” Georgia wriggled away from her and wrinkled her nose.
“Why is there water on the stairs?” Alistair gestured to the rivulets of water.
“The storm has thrown a tree at the house. It has destroyed most of the eastern library and perhaps the drawing room beneath it. Thankfully, Miss Harris had left the room to fetch you from the kitchen.”
Rowen caught sight of Georgia’s face lighting up and the look of longing she was casting at the door the footmen were attempting to secure.
“And under absolutely no circumstances will you try to look at it.”
Georgia’s eyes snapped to her mother’s, the corners of her mouth quirking downward. “But I want to see it!”
“Absolutely not. It is far too dangerous.”
The image of Georgia’s scarf fluttering beneath the tree branches filled Rowen’s mind, and she fought the urge to pull her closer.
“Gigi, you must promise that you will not try and see the tree. Nor will you rope Alistair into some silly adventure to see it. Not until it is safe and you have my explicit permission to see it. You will promise me this, Gigi—and you, Alistair.”
“I promise.” Alistair nodded his head solemnly, his grey eyes wide as he looked at the door.
“Georgie, Mama. Gigi is a little girl’s name.” Georgia frowned.
“Very well. Georgie, you will promise that you will not try and see the tree.” Rowen knew her daughter would be looking for loopholes in her request, but was fairly certain she had removed them.
Georgia’s frown deepened, and Rowen could almost see the cogs turning in her mind. “Fine. I promise. But only if you promise to show it to me when it is safe.”
“You have my word.” Rowen gave her another hug.
“Is Miss Harris all right?” Alistair asked, peering at the governess.
“She is a little shaken and has a few bruises,” Rowen explained.
“She should see Cook. She will have just the thing.” Georgia glanced at the closed door again.
“And you two will, of course, be delighted to take your governess to Cook and learn about the proper treatment of bruises. Will you not?” Rowen smiled at her children.
“I can get another spiced bun!” Georgia grinned and dashed past Rowen to grab Miss Harris’s hand, while Alistair followed more cautiously behind her.
“We will take you to Cook and make sure you’re safe.” Alistair held out a hand to his governess, his somber tone a contrast to his twin’s jubilance.
“Thank you, Master Alistair, Lady Georgia.”
Miss Harris glanced at Rowen, who mouthed, “Keep them away from here.”
The governess gave an imperceptible nod and let the children lead her away from the corridor and back towards the kitchen. Rowen watched them go, her heart swelling as she saw the spring in their steps.
Long may their carefree nature last.
“Please ensure that no one comes into this wing, not until we know the extent of the damage. I suggest posting one of the footmen at the entrance,” Rowen instructed Mr. Yately.
