Much ADO about You
By Eloisa James
Rebound by Sagebrush
Copyright © 2005
Eloisa James
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9781417701742
Chapter One
September 1816
Holbrook Court, seat of the Duke of Holbrook
On the outskirts of Silchester
In the afternoon
"I am happy to announce that the rocking horses have
been delivered, Your Grace. I have placed them in the
nursery for your inspection. As yet, there is no sign of the
children."
Raphael Jourdain, Duke of Holbrook, turned. He had
been poking a fire smoldering in the cavernous fireplace
of his study. There was a reserved tone in his butler's
voice that signaled displeasure. Or perhaps it would be
more accurate to say that Brinkley's tone signaled the disgruntlement
of the entire household of elderly servants,
not one of whom was enchanted by the idea of accommodating
themselves to the presence of four small, female
children. Well, the hell with that, Rafe thought. It wasn't
as if he'd asked to have a passel of youngsters on the
premises.
"Rocking horses?" came a drawling voice from a deep
chair to the right of the fireplace. "Charming, Rafe.
Charming. One can't start too early making the little darlings
interested in horseflesh." Garret Langham, the Earl
of Mayne, raised his glass toward his host. His black curls
were in exquisite disarray, his comments arrogant to a
fault, and his manners barely hid a seething fury. Not that
he was furious at Rafe; Mayne had been in a slow burn for
the past few months. "To Papa and his brood of infant
equestriennes," he added, tossing back his drink.
"Stubble it!" Rafe said, but without much real animosity.
Mayne was a damned uncomfortable companion at
the moment, what with his poisonous comments and
black humor. Still, one had to assume that the foul temper
caused by the shock of being rejected by a woman would
wear off in a matter of time.
"Why the plural, as in rocking horses?" Mayne asked.
"As I recall, most nurseries contain only one rocking
horse."
Rafe took a gulp of his brandy. "I don't know much
about children," he said, "but I distinctly remember my
brother and me fighting over our toys. So I bought four of
them."
There was a second's silence during which the earl considered
whether to acknowledge the fact that Rafe obviously
still missed his brother (dead these five years, now).
He dismissed the impulse. Manlike, he observed no bene-
fit to maudlin conversation.
"You're doing those orphans proud," he said instead.
"Most guardians would stow the children out of sight. It's
not as if they're your blood."
"There's no amount of dolls in the world that will make up for their situation," Rafe said, shrugging. "Their father
should have thought of his responsibilities before he
climbed on a stallion."
The conversation was getting dangerously close to the
sort of emotion to be avoided at all costs, so Mayne
sprang from his chair. "Let's have a look at the rocking
horses, then. I haven't seen one in years."
"Right," Rafe said, putting his glass onto the table with
a sharp clink. "Brinkley, if the children arrive, bring them
upstairs, and I'll receive them in the nursery."
A few minutes later the two men stood in the middle of
a large room on the third floor, dizzily painted with murals.
Little Bo Peep chased after Red Riding Hood, who
was surely in danger of being crushed by the giant striding
across the wall, his raised foot lowering over a feather
bed sporting a huge green pea under the coverlet. The
room resembled nothing so much as a Bond Street toy
shop. Four dolls with spun gold hair sat primly on a
bench. Four doll beds were propped atop each other, next
to four doll tables, on which sat four jack-in-the-boxes. In
the midst of it all was a group of rocking horses graced
with real horsehair and coming almost to a man's waist.
"Jesus," Mayne said.
Rafe strode into the room and stamped on the rocker of
one of the horses, making it clatter back and forth on the
wooden floor. A door on the side of the room swung open,
and a plump woman in a white apron poked her head out.
"There you are, Your Grace," she said, beaming. "We're
just waiting for the children. Would you like to meet the
new maids now?"
"Send them on in, Mrs. Beeswick."
Four young nursemaids crowded into the room after her. "Daisy, Gussie, Elsie, and Mary," said the nanny.
"They're from the village, Your Grace, and pleased to
have a position at Holbrook Court.We're all eager for the
little cherubs to arrive." The nursemaids lined up to either
side of Mrs. Beeswick, smiling and curtsying.
"Jesus," Mayne repeated. "They won't even share a
maid, Rafe?"
"Why should they? My brother and I had three nurses
between us."
"Three?"
"Two for my brother, ever since he turned duke at age
seven, and one for me."
Mayne snorted. "That's absurd. When's the last time
you met your wards' father, Lord Brydone?"
"Not for years," Rafe said, picking up a jack-in-the-box
and pressing the lever so that it hopped from its box with
a loud squeak. "The arrangement was just a matter of a
note from him and my reply."
"You have never met your own wards?"
"Never. I haven't been over the border in years, and
Brydone only came down for the Ascot, the Silchester,
and, sometimes, Newmarket. To be honest, I don't think
he really gave a damn for anything other than his stables.
He didn't even bother to list his children in Debrett's. Of
course, since he had four girls, there was no question of
inheritance. The estate went to some distant cousin."
"Why on earth—" Mayne glanced at the five women
standing to the side of the room and checked himself.
"He asked me," Rafe said, shrugging. "I didn't think
twice of it. Apparently Monkton had been in line, but he
cocked up his toes last year ...
Continues...
Excerpted from Much ADO about You
by Eloisa James
Copyright © 2005 by Eloisa James.
Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
