Page 78 of Better Than a Duke
Her maid hurrying behind her, she went out the door the second George opened it, and then she pulled it shut herself. Lord Hentrose looked at the closed door for a moment, then faced them again. “No more squirrels in the house,” he said. “Is that clear?” He lifted one eyebrow.
“Did you start to propose to her, Papa?” Becks asked, her eyes widening.
“We’re discussing squirrels, and how they are not to be in the house ever again. Yes?”
“Yes, my lord,” Edmund piped up. “I’m very sorry to have ruined your breakfast.”
“So am I.” The marquis turned around, his jaw jumping. “Come help clean up the mess in the breakfast room, both of you. And then you will play, quietly, until time for us to leave for the menagerie.” He turned and went up the stairs.
As soon as he was out of sight, Becks plunked herself down on the bottom stair. “Did you hear that?” she whispered, her lower lip shaking. “He half proposed to her. We only have half a proposal between us and horror. Thank goodness you foundthree squirrels, Eddie! She didn’t faint or run screaming from the house, but she looked funny, and Papa didn’t finish asking her to marry him.”
“She tolerated the squirrels much better than I reckoned she would. Barely squawked at all except for the mess to her hair. But it stopped your papa, so that’s good.” Edmund faced George again. “I am sorry you were attacked, George.”
The footman shrugged. “Once, one of Dowager Marchioness Hentrose’s cats got loose in here, and bit me in the ear. This wasn’t so bad. It did startle me.” He touched his finger to the tip of his nose. “You did get Masquerade to jump a bit though, didn’t you?” he whispered, and smiled.
Oh, everyone was a Biscuits now. Except for Masquerade and Old Moldy and Whiskers.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“In her hair?” Iris whispered, her gaze on Edmund and Rebecca where they stood in front of the very small cage of very large lions.
“In my opinion, it thought the bird in her hair made her a tree,” Beckett murmured, just loudly enough for her to hear.
“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry Edmund did that. I don’t know what he was thinking.”
“He was bringing a surprise to show his friend. His plan was a sound one, actually, except for bringing the box into the house in the first place. And he did rid your aunt and uncle’s attic of squirrels.”
The tone of his voice caught her attention, and she turned her head to look at his profile. “You’re not angry at all, are you?”
The marquis shrugged. “It was hilarious. I nearly split a seam trying not to laugh.”
“Did you learn anything new about your almost-fiancé, then? Does she hate squirrels? Children?”
A grin curved his mouth. “You know, she was in the midst of twisting me into proposing to her. I’d just about given in tothe inevitable when the mayhem began. As for Pauline, it embarrassed her, and her hair looked even worse than yours did that day you came over to demand the return of Edmund, but there was no cursing—either at the squirrels or the children.”
Her thoughts twisted up so quickly it made Iris dizzy.He’d nearly given in. Nearly proposed. A tantrum, a crying jag, a single crack in Lady Pauline Grenedy’s flawless character would have made her feel better for not wanting him to do what everyone in Mayfair knew was in the offing. Not that it would have made a difference—not for her. It wouldn’t have made Iris Silbern a better choice for him. Nothing could do that. “I’m glad to hear that she’s living up to her reputation for absolute perfection, then,” she said aloud.
“You would have laughed.”
Iris blinked. “With a squirrel tearing at my hair?”
“Maybe. Afterward, definitely.”
Hmm.Was that a criticism of the flawless Lady Pauline? “I’m a parent. She doesn’t have the experience to understand that sometimes squirrels get into the breakfast room.”
“True.” He took a step forward. “You’re quite close enough, Rebecca. Those aren’t house cats.”
“I know,” his daughter replied, glancing back at them. “They’re so big! But they look very bored.”
“This is hardly the wilds of Africa with zebras galloping about,” Beckett said, continuing forward to join the children. “Already-dead chickens aren’t much of a challenge.”
“I want to see the baboons,” Rebecca said, taking Edmund’s hand and pulling him around the corner.
“Fine, but we have to come back to see the lions when they get fed,” Edmund said, his voice echoing in the stonework around them. “I want to see that.”
Iris started after them, but stopped when Beckett’s fingerscurled around her wrist. “You know they’re going to attempt to smuggle a monkey or something out of here,” she said, doing her best to ignore just how aware she was of him touching her.
“You haven’t said how your drive with Trent went. Was it better or worse than squirrels in the house?”
