Page 75 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

James nodded. “Perhaps you could arrange that her three friends are also present?” He couldn’t recall their names in the heat of the moment, but Henry knew who he meant.

Henry had not moved.

“Well, go!” James commanded.

His friend started and went.

James wanted nothing more than to run to Cecelia and sweep her out of harm’s way, but in the circumstances that was no simple task. There were preparations to make.

He went downstairs to inform Mrs. Gardener that she would be watching over the house until he could return. “The stable lock will be repaired,” he told her. “And you will be given a key. The front door you can ignore.”

“How long will you be away, milord?” she asked.

“I’m not certain just now.” At her anxious look, he added, “Is there anyone you would like to have with you here? A relative perhaps?”

“Uncle Will,” said Jen. “He could fix the lock. He can fix anything.”

“Jen!” said her mother.

“Your brother?” James asked her. He was recalling remarks about the children’s father and wanted no criminals brought into the household.

“Yes, milord,” said Mrs. Gardener.

“He’s a good man, brave as a lion,” said Ned as if he understood James’s worries. “He fought in the war.”

His mother nodded. “He lost a leg.”

There had been so many such soldiers in the last few years.

“But he don’t go begging in the street,” she added quickly. “He finds work, here and there. Like Jen said, he’s a whiz at fixing things. And he has a peg. He can move about right well.”

Her tone was a further recommendation. James didn’t believe she would advocate for a lawbreaker after the hardships she’d experienced. “Would you like to invite him to stay here?” he asked Mrs. Gardener. “We certainly have much that needs mending. And he could watch over things.”

“I can do that,” protested Ned.

“That’d be fine, milord,” said his mother at the same time. “He’d work hard, he would.”

“Let us do that then.” James turned to Ned, who looked sulky. “You said you could use a flatiron.”

The whole family looked surprised by the change of direction. And uneasy. “Yeah,” said Ned.

“Could you press a coat? Properly?”

“I reckon I could,” answered Ned, his expression shifting to puzzlement.

“Milord,” put in his mother.

“Milord,” muttered Ned.

James examined the idea that was forming in his mind. He was perfectly capable of tying his own neckcloths, and a laundress could manage his linen. But there was more to it if he was to appear in all his old perfection. His landlady would pitch in, but… “Have you ever shined boots?” he asked Ned.

“I could make ’em look better than that,” the boy replied, indicating the ones James currently wore. “Milord,” he added at his mother’s frown.

James looked down at the dusty, scuffed leather. How had he let his footwear come to this? Hobbs would have been horrified at the state of his boots. He made up his mind. It was nothing more than an experiment after all. “My valet has scarpered,” he continued. “I need someone to help with my clothes. Perhaps you could try.”

Ned stared, then grinned, then nodded with wide-eyed enthusiasm.

James noted that the boy’s mother appeared to have doubts. Well, so did he. They could only see how it went.

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