Page 10 of Dubious about the Duke (Second Sons of London 5)

“Terrance was the heir apparent. My parents barely acknowledged my existence. In fact,” he said, leaning close as if sharing a confidence, “they would be horrified to learn I actually inherited the ducal title.”

He seated her as Percy spoke to his butler and Minta rang for tea.

“It was very different for Minta and me growing up,” she admitted to him. “We were the center of our parents’ world. Though Papa has worked hard for the crown, he always made time for us when he came home from his office. And Mama spent much of her days with the two of us.” She paused. “They were a love match and still are deeply in love. Papa didn’t seem to mind at all that we were girls although I understand it is different since he had no title or entailed lands to pass down.”

A maid appeared with a teacart and Minta began pouring out, handing over the cups and saucers.

“Our cook is a good one,” she bragged. “I have shared a few recipes with her that you and I used to make, Sera.”

“You... cook?” the duke asked, looking from her to Minta and back.

When Sera ignored his comment and sipped her tea, Minta said, “We did have a cook but not many servants. Sera and I grew up doing many of the household tasks. Mama thought it important that we learn something about the kitchens and Sera and I have spent many happy hours in it. We both learned to cook several dishes. Sera is a better baker than I am, though. Sweets are her specialty.”

The duke smiled engagingly at her. “I do love a good sweet myself. Perhaps you could pass along your recipes to my cook, Miss Nicholls.”

“I would be happy to do so, Your Grace. I could even make biscuits or your favorite cake for you.”

She realized that was actually far too personal and found herself blushing.

“I will hold you to that, Miss Nicholls,” he said, his even, white teeth gleaming in a smile directed at her.

Her cheeks burned even more and she busied herself rearranging items on her plate.

“You do know you are supposed to eat what’s there,” the duke teased.

Sera looked up, appealing wordlessly to Minta to intervene.

Her sister only smiled smugly and said, “Can I get anyone more tea?”

Frustrated, she jammed a tart into her mouth. The entire tart. It fit—but she couldn’t say a word. She could barely chew. She tried sipping tea to moisten the lump in her mouth.

And the Duke of Woodmont laughed aloud.

He took pity on her, handing his handkerchief to her. “Spit it out, Miss Nicholls. You’ll never successfully get it down.”

Mortified, she took it and turned away, spitting the mangled tart into the cloth and wadding the handkerchief up.

“That reminds me of the time we had that contest at university, Percy.”

Her brother-in-law smiled. “That’s right. Someone bet us—the Second Sons—that they could eat more scones than we could.” He paused. “Was it a quarter-hour? Or half?”

“Half,” the duke confirmed. “Naturally, the entire tavern began placing bets on who the victor would be. I didn’t mind losing to a Second Son but I would have hated losing to anyone else.”

“Who won?” asked Minta.

“Owen,” said Percy and the duke at the same time.

“Actually, Owen tied with Spence if I recall correctly,” Percy said.

“And then the tavern’s owner extended it another five minutes. That’s when Owen claimed victory,” Woodmont said, wiping a tear from his eyes. “Owen had to be carried home by the rest of us. It was worse than any time he ever drank too much.”

“The Second Sons are Percy’s and Win’s good friends from their university days,” Minta said to Sera.

“Yes, His Grace mentioned them in the carriage,” she said.

Her sister smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me. They are very close. I have grown close to their wives, who all happen to be cousins. You are going to adore the Three Cousins, which is how they are affectionately known.”

“Does everyone in London have nicknames?” she asked.

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