The Duke in Disguise by Gayle Callen Page B

could. Of all the servants, she'd been at Thanet Court the longest, and knew both Cecil and him.

"What would you like me to do about Stephen?" he asked. "The nurse should be able to handle this."

"Your son is lonely, Your Grace, and lately he has enjoyed your interest in him. Surely that wasn't just because of Miss Shelby herself."

"No. I know I have not been the best father."

"Then have luncheon with him today. He usually eats with Miss Shelby, and I think yesterday's luncheon set him off to a bad afternoon."

Richard thought about his own childhood in this massive, lonely place. He had been the only child for five years— he knew what Stephen was feeling. Then why did he feel like he was making a mistake?

"Send him to the dining room then," he finally said. "Perhaps I can also find something for him to do afterward."

"Thank you, Your Grace," she said.

She used a cool, professional tone that he did not associate with her. Was she disappointed in him?

After she'd gone, Richard leaned back in his chair and contemplated Miss Shelby— Meriel. She had a beautiful Christian name, one you could almost put to music. He remembered the night of the assembly, how she'd looked in the library after everyone had gone to bed. Her silk gown had shimmered by candlelight, and her hair had gleamed like gold. Never before had he met a woman who made him almost stumble over his words, made him forget everything but the thought that he might not see her every day. She spoke her mind, not caring that he was a duke— that he was supposed to be the duke. He missed her presence as much as Stephen did.

Was he letting himself be distracted from his true mission, Stephen's protection? Right now, Richard was presenting himself as the target. After all, he was portraying the duke, and if Charles wanted to control Stephen, he would have to manipulate Cecil— Richard— first. Richard was certain that Charles's first move had been to discredit the duke's honor. What would Charles try next?

When Richard arrived in the dining room for luncheon, Stephen was already there with his nurse. The woman looked tired and exasperated, and much as Richard would have liked to give her time off, Cecil would never think of it. So the nurse had to stay.

"Stephen, what have you been doing since Miss Shelby returned to London?" Richard asked.

"She left me 'signments," he said glumly. "But only she knows how to make it interesting."

Nurse Weston rolled her eyes, and Richard smiled at her. She blanched and looked back down at her food, as if he would yell at her. Meriel would have understood the humor of the situation. Every sentence out of Stephen's mouth contained "Miss Shelby" somewhere. Richard noticed that the nurse was eating quickly, as if she couldn't wait to leave.

A selection of desserts was brought in on a cart, and Richard chose an apple tart as Nurse Weston turned to speak to the footman.

Stephen leaned closer to Richard and whispered, "You can't eat that."

Richard frowned down at his plate, his fork at the ready. "Why not?"

"Father, you don't like apple tarts, remember?"

Richard stared at the little boy, who glanced at the nurse, then went back to his food single-mindedly. Richard hesitated, a cold feeling of worry settling inside him. Stephen couldn't possibly know the truth about his masquerade…could he? Wouldn't he have said or done something before now, if he thought an impostor was pretending to be his father?

Richard had the footman take away his dessert, and the boy smiled. Maybe Stephen was just playing a game with him. After all, the boy seemed more restless and fidgety than he'd been since Richard had arrived as the duke. But he had to be certain.

"Nurse Weston, I've been meaning to take Stephen fishing at my favorite childhood place. Take the afternoon for yourself."

Both Stephen and Nurse Weston perked up. The nurse looked tired and hopeful, and the fact that she didn't hide her emotions testified to how exhausted she must