The Duke in Disguise Read Free Page B

hiding places. Thank goodness it was night— or she'd be looking for him near the fake castle ruins in the garden where he often pretended to be a ghost.

She left the dining room and searched the conservatory, especially in the back, where high ferns blocked her view. She tried the music room beneath the piano, and the library beneath both globes. She managed to avoid most of the servants, especially Mrs. Theobald, who would understand immediately what Meriel was doing.

How could she have allowed the boy to escape so soon after the duke's arrival?

Finally, she had no choice but to head to the drawing rooms. She assumed the duke had not yet gone to bed, so Stephen was probably following him about.

She heard the murmur of voices as she crept softly along the marble-floored corridor, using the carpets when she could. With her head bent, she strained to listen, but all she heard was the clink of a glass being set down. How could she just walk in and ask the duke if he'd seen his son?

She froze when a footman left the blue drawing room. He saw her at once and paused, but she put a finger to her lips and begged with her eyes. He turned away from her down the corridor. She sighed with relief.

"Miss Shelby, is that you?"

The duke's deep voice made her jump, as if she was doing something wrong. She lifted her chin and stepped into the doorway. He was leaning a shoulder against the carved white mantel, the empty hearth beside him. Two Irish wolfhounds lay at his feet. The duke's waistcoat was checked red and gold, standing out in a room decorated mostly in blues and whites. Even the paintings clustered on the walls seemed to be landscapes dominated by variations of blue skies.

"Good evening, Your Grace," she said.

He straightened and lifted his glass from the mantel. "Are you looking for Stephen?" He glanced toward the windows. "Stephen, perhaps you should show yourself now."

Meriel held her breath for an endless moment, but it didn't take the little marquess long. He stepped out from behind the draperies near the tall windows. The boy was disheveled, and there was a tear in his coat, but he was doing his best to look contrite.

"Forgive me, Your Grace," Meriel said. "I'll take Lord Ramsgate back to the nursery."

The duke laughed. "When he's gone to all this trouble? Stephen, I surely can't be interesting enough to spy upon."

Stephen's head lifted a bit. "I-I've never seen your dogs pay so much attention to you."

Meriel frowned, wondering what the boy meant.

The duke smiled as he looked down at his pets, who watched him with adoration, their heads cocked, their ears perked. "I think they missed me. Did you miss me, Stephen?"

The little boy stared at his father, his dark brows lowered in puzzlement. "Father, I can't remember how many months have passed since I saw you, so I can't really miss you."

Meriel's stomach flipped over with dread. She was obviously failing to teach the boy proper courtesy.

But the duke only laughed again and took a sip of his drink. "Then we'll have to get to know one another all over again. Miss Shelby, do come in and make yourself comfortable."

She tried to retreat to her usual window seat, but the duke would have none of it. He bade her sit on the sofa beside Stephen, and he took a chair opposite them. The dogs settled on either side of the duke, then put their heads down again. Only their eyes continued to stare, as if they couldn't let their master out of their sight.

Stephen swung his feet together in rhythmic bumps. "You don't look sick, Father."

Meriel silently agreed, chastising herself again for noticing far too many other things about the duke's appearance.

"I'm getting better, my boy, but I find myself still tired though my long journey was several days ago. If I were truly recovered, even exhaustion would not stop me from finding a party to attend tonight."

"You're with Miss Shelby and me."

The duke smiled, and his gaze caught Meriel. She noticed the whiteness of his teeth and