Page 53 of Dubious about the Duke (Second Sons of London 5)

“Ready, Sera,” he shouted.

“Then we can begin,” she told them. “On your marks? Ready. Set. Go!”

Win thought Freddie leaned just a touch early and would speak to him later. For now, though, he took off after the six-year-old, who was incredibly fast for his age. The boy’s shorter stride was no match for Win’s long legs and he easily overtook Freddie and began to pass him. Then he thought better of it and decided the boy should claim the victory.

But Win would make him work for it.

He adjusted his pace, allowing Freddie to stay just within reach of him and then slowed slightly right before they reached the tree. Freddie reached out his hand and flung himself at the trunk, barely touching it before Win did.

“I won!” he shouted, jumping up and down, joy written on his face.

“You won!” Charlie proclaimed with glee.

Looking back, he saw Sera also jumping up and down. She stopped and ran toward them. By the time she reached them, her face was flushed, making her look more kissable than ever.

“Congratulations, Freddie,” he said as Sera arrived. “You beat me. I will have to practice my running and then ask for a rematch down the road.”

“Can we go to the stables now?” Charlie begged.

“First, the chickens. Then the stables,” Sera declared.

The boys grumbled a bit but they each took the hand Sera offered. Win followed them, mainly to enjoy the sway of Sera’s hips as she walked.

They went around the house and to its back where a door led to the kitchens. A small, fenced-in yard held a good number of clucking chickens and a coop.

Looking over her shoulder, she asked him, “Who is in charge of the chickens?”

“I haven’t a clue,” he admitted.

“If you are going to learn about your estate, Your Grace, you need to learn everything about it,” she told him, a glint in her eyes. “I need to know who feeds the chickens and who collects their eggs.”

“There is one way to find out.”

He went to the back door and entered the kitchens, which buzzed with activity.

Until a scullery maid noticed he was there and dropped the pan she was drying.

“Your Grace?” an older woman asked, coming toward him. “May I help you?”

He recognized the cook. “Yes, Cook. Who feeds the chickens and gathers the eggs every morning?”

“That would be me, Your Grace.”

Frowning, he asked, “Don’t you have better things to do, Cook?”

“I do. But I have loved chickens since I was a girl.”

“Would you come with me for a moment, Cook? I believe Miss Nicholls, the new governess, wishes to speak with you.”

Cook clucked her tongue. “Oh, that poor girl. Take me to her.”

Win led her outside and made the introduction between the women. He started to introduce the boys but Cook interrupted.

“Oh, I know the pair, Your Grace.” She eyed them with a frown.

“We’re better now,” Charlie volunteered. “Miss Nicholls isn’t mean to us at all. We were just being mean back to them other ones.”

“And His Grace said we have to do the right thing,” Freddie added. He flushed red and said, “I promise we’ll stay out of your flour barrels.”

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