Callie Hutton

Copyright 2012

CALLIE HUTTON

Cover design by Book Graphics

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Acknowledgements

             
No man is an island, and no book is written by just the author. Critique partners, beta readers, and editors all play a part in the final product.

             
My critique partner, Romance Author, Char Chaffin, slap
ped
my hand every time I overuse
d
a word
or phrase. She brutally cut
me off, with no remorse. I love her.

             
My beta readers, Warren Greene, Romance Author Ella Quinn
,
and Romance Author Ally Broadfield
offered
innumerable suggestions and advice. They even caught a mistake or two.

             
And a special t
h
anks to Ella, who pulled my arse from the flames more than once when I
blundered in relating
details of
Regency life.
Any additional mistakes are
mine, and mine alone.

Dedication

To Aunt Mary. Even after all these years, I still miss you.

Chapter One

Miss Meredith Chambers took a deep breath and smiled at the two little girls staring up at her with wide eyes. “Well, it appears we’re here.”

Her smiled faltered when they both grabbed her legs and hid their faces in her skirts.  “What’s this?”

“I don’t want to live here,” Charlotte, the older of the sisters
,
wailed.

“Me neither,” Clare echoed.

Merry dropped to her knees and pulled them both close. “
You are
t
he
duke
’s
ward
s
. He is a very important man, your father’s best friend. You will love living here.”

Two
curly
,
blond-haired heads shook furiously.

“Madam?” The front door of the massive house opened,
and
a tall, thin butler, his nose as long as the rest of him, glared down at them. “His Grace awaits you in the library.”

Merry stood and patted her hair
,
which had come loose from her
knot
. Well, no time to fuss with it now. She took one step forward, dragging the two girls with her.
The sound of the well
-sprung coach that delivered them, its wheels clattering on the cobblestones,
rang in her ears, the last link to their old life.

“Girls, release my legs, I can’t walk.”

They clung harder, causing her to shuffle along like an invalid. When they reached the bottom of the steps, Merry wrapped an arm around each small girl, lifted them, and climbed the steps. The butler viewed the
group
without expression.
“This way if you please.”

Winded,
Merry followed the man, still dragging her charges.

Goodness
,
the house was huge. The marble entrance hall was filled with delicate tables, over-stuffed Queen Anne chairs, and an immense clock, its sound almost as loud as Merry’s pounding heart.

“Madam?
Do you wish assistance?
”

Realizing she gaped like a ruffian from the street, Merry
attempted to step
forward, still impeded by the girls. “Ladies, you must let me go. I can’t walk.” They clung tighter. She flashed a smile at the butler, who
remained impassive, leaving her to wonder if a smile ever graced his stoic face.

Despite her best intentions, Merry
spun b
ack and forth, amazed as she took in her surroundings. Plush carpets, silk wall coverings,
priceless
lamps, all reminding her of the wealth and status of the girls’
guardian
. Her nose smacked into something solid as the butler came to an abrupt stop, but her body, with her two charges
s
till attached firmly to her limbs
,
did not.

Lips
twitching, but maintaining his austere demeanor,
t
he
butler
opened a large wood
en door with elaborate carvings
,
and sniffed before announcing, “Lady Charlotte
Spencer, Lady Clare Spencer
, and Miss Meredith Chambers
.”

The girls clung harder, making it practically impossible for Merry to enter the room. She dragged one limb, then the other, until she reached the massive oak desk.
Breathless
from her effort, she looked up into the most arresting
brown
eyes
, with specks of gold,
she’d ever seen. Above the eyes, sharp black eyebrows rose almost to the hairline of wavy black hair. Below the eyes an aristocratic nose led to sensual lips drawn into a tight line.

“Your Grace
.
”
S
he puffed
and attempted
a clumsy
curtsy
.

The only sound in the room was the soft click of the door as the butler exit
ed
. Merry waited patiently to be invited to sit. Instead, the
brown
eyes
kept staring
at her, then leisurely
slid
their way down her person,
and
obviously from the additional tightening of
his full sensual
lips, finding her wanting.

Eventually, a long-fingered hand flicked in the direction of one of the two leather chairs in front of his desk. “Sit.”

Merry sat abruptly, feeling like a dog panting in front of its master. The two girls ended up on their knees on the floor, still buried in her skirts.

“Is there something wrong with the young ladies?” The deep voice rolled over her, setting her hear
t
to pounding.

Merry grasped the girls’ arms and attempted to pull them to their feet. They held tighter.
“No, Your Grace. They’re merely a bit anxious.”

“Indeed
.
”

How was it possible to put so much disapproval into one word?

After a moment, he settled back in his chair, his fingers clutching a
quill
pen he tapped on the desk. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

With all the liquid in her mouth dried up, she merely nodded.

“I understand from my solicitors you
’ve
had sole charge of the girls since their
parents
passed away a month ago?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Good. She was finally able to pry her mouth open.

“And you cannot control you
r
charges enough to
insist they
sit as proper ladies?”

Heat rose to Merry
’s face
and anger washed through her. The arrogant a
r
s
e
! “They’re confused and a bit distressed.” She bent and whispered furiously to the girls. “Please get up, His Grace is not happy.”

“No.” Two voices
piped up,
muffled in her skirts.

She smiled slightly at the
duke
and shrugged. If possible
his eyebrows rose
further, disappearing
underneath the wave that rested against his forehead.

“
It appears to me, Miss Chambers
,
that Lady Charlotte and Lady Clare
have
arrived here just in time.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “I arranged for a governess to train them in proper behavior.
She will
instruct the
girls
in the skills necessary for a lady.” He waved his hand. “Sewing, French, watercolors, and so forth.”

Merry stared at him, her jaw slack. Well over six feet, David
,
D
uke
of
Penrose
,
was a si
ght
to behold. Every inch the lord of the manor, his coat fit him as if it had been painted on. His white
-
on
-
white waistcoat
hugged his impressive body
above
well-fitting
tan breeches
tucked into
black Hessian boots. A snow white
,
intricately tied cravat
was a stark contrast to his lightly tanned skin.

Lord
Penrose
rested one hip
on the edge of the desk, peering down at her, his foot swinging back and forth. “I shall allow
a bit of
transition time for the young ladies. You may stay on for a week or two. Then I will see you receive a
generous stipend to tide you over until you can secure another position.”