Page 63 of Devoted to the Duke (The St. Clairs 1)

“And you must be Lady Leah.”

Leah went to the dowager duchess and curtseyed. “I am. Why are you called Cor? I find that name most unusual.”

The old woman laughed. “My, you are as inquisitive as Rachel. Sit, everyone.”

Once they all had settled in, the tea cart arrived. After everyone had a cup of tea and plates filled with sandwiches and sweets, Cor said, “It’s a very simple story, Lady Leah.”

“I’ve never heard any grandmammas called that,” Leah said.

“My given name is Cordelia,” she explained. “My brother, who was older by three years, couldn’t get out that mouthful. He only managed to say Cor. As I grew up, everyone in my family called me by that name. Why, I believe I was six—no, seven—before I actually learned my Christian name was Cordelia. I decided that sounded much too pretentious. All of my friends also called me Cor. Though my children called me “Mama”, Jeremy here is the one who started calling me Cor.”

He took up the story. “I don’t remember how old I was. I think at some point Cor tried to teach me to say Grandmamma.”

“Jeremy ran before he walked,” Cor said. “He was always in motion. It took him forever to speak. I think calling me Grandmamma was too much for him to bother with since he was always in a hurry. He toddled in once when I was entertaining friends, having escaped his nanny. One of them called me Cor and told me how delightful he was. His little face lit up and he ran toward me, his arms spread wide, shouting Cor.”

“Luke and Rachel followed suit,” he said. “She will always be Cor to us all.”

They spent a pleasant hour conversing. He’d deliberately led Catherine to a small settee and seated himself beside her, his thigh and hip wedged against her. He liked how easily she laughed and how well she and Leah fit in. Soon, Rachel and Leah left to tour the house. They already seemed as thick as thieves.

As Morefield entertained Cor with some outrageous story, Jeremy turned to Catherine. “Would you care to go up to the nursery?”

His heart beat fast, wondering what her answer would be. Last night, she’d offended him with her remarks about not wishing to mother another woman’s child. That was before their kiss. He knew he’d won her over with it, but she still might have reservations about Jenny. If they were truly to have a marriage, she must be accepting of his daughter.

He need not have worried. Her face lit up. “I would very much enjoy meeting your daughter.”

“If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to the nursery,” he informed the others.

For a moment, it looked as if Charlotte would ask to join them. He frowned at her and she sat back.

Jeremy led Catherine from the drawing room and to the stairs. They climbed to the top floor where the nursery and schoolroom lay, along with bedrooms for a nanny, governess, and other servants. Opening the door, he saw that Jenny was being rocked by Sara, her nanny.

They stepped inside and Sara rose. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”

“Hello, Sara. This is Lady Catherine, my fiancée. I wanted her to meet Jenny.” Jeremy turned and saw Catherine glowed as she looked at the baby.

“May I hold her?” she asked.

“Of course, my lady.” Sara handed the sleepy girl over and Catherine went to the rocker and sat. She slowly rocked and begin talking to Jenny, telling her how glad she was to meet her and how she hoped to be a good stepmamma to her. Then she began to sing a lullaby, her voice low and soothing.

Tears welled in his eyes, seeing them together. He blinked rapidly.

When Jenny fell asleep, Catherine rose. Sara motioned her over to the crib and Catherine eased the baby into it.

“Thank you,” she told Sara. “I hope you won’t mind if once His Grace and I are wed that I spend time in the nursery each day.”

“Not at all, my lady. You’ll always be welcome.”

Catherine turned to him. In that moment, if he hadn’t known before, he knew now.

He was in love with her.

Leading her from the nursery, he took her across the hall and opened the door. “This is the schoolroom.” He brought her inside and closed the door. “Timothy and I met with our tutor here before we went off to Eton.”

Catherine began wandering about. “I imagine generations of St. Clairs have spent time within these walls.” She paused and looked out the window.

Jeremy followed her, slipping his arms around her from behind and holding her against him. His lips touched her neck. A sigh escaped her and her head fell to the side, granting him better access. He licked and nipped as she squirmed, little sighs coming from her. But he needed more. Spinning her quickly so she faced him, his mouth came down on hers. She opened readily, eagerly, and he took his fill.

Minutes later, he stopped. His hands itched to wander to her breasts and hips. He would remain a gentleman. For now. As far as Jeremy was concerned, their wedding couldn’t come soon enough.

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