The Perfect Duchess
Page 34
All thoughts of dalliance would be ruthlessly suppressed.
‘A doll? You’re expecting another daughter, Cel?’ He spread the almost completed project out on his knee. ‘She’s got a cheeky smile!’
‘Of course I don’t know whether it’ll be a boy or a girl,’ Celia laughed. ‘I already have a bear from when Mary was born. I like to be prepared, a doll for a girl and a bear for a boy.’
‘She’s a work of art,’ Bax declared. ‘Reminds me of Holly when she was little. The same mischievous smile.’
Celia’s laughter brightened her tired eyes and put color in her pale cheeks.
‘Then she shall be called Holly,’ she declared. ‘Do you want to christen her?’
Chapter 2
Jane had been studying Celia’s pattern card with the thought of making a doll for Abby’s youngest daughter, but couldn’t keep her eyes from Bax’s manly hands holding the unfinished toy with appreciation. Although she knew those hands could wield an artist’s brush with enviable skill, she could also imagine them wrapped around an axe or a sword—or a woman.
Dear God, she must stop thinking these things in his presence, for thought was all it took to flood her cheeks with color. Lord Baxendene was too observant and astute not to notice—and wonder.
At Celia’s suggestion of christening the doll an unholy twinkle danced in his eyes.
‘I’m very good at christening dollies, am I not, Angela Jane?’
He sought and held her gaze, forcing her mind back to a long ago day at The Dene.
She and Holly had been playing ‘ladies at tea’ with a couple of dolls by the fountain. Though there was a strong bond between the siblings he’d taken every opportunity to tease and torment. It was his job as her older brother, he’d once said when Holly wailed a protest.
She dragged her gaze from his.
‘I’d be more inclined to label you bad at christening dollies,’ she said, smiling downward and hoping he didn’t notice the color in her cheeks.
Futile, she knew, or to forget that to placate Holly after he’d tossed her dolls into the fountain, he’d stripped to his drawers and waded in to heroically save them from drowning. Never having seen a man’s naked chest, she’d somehow known it was exciting—and wicked, though she’d only been eight and he thirteen.
But then, everything about the Earl of Baxendene had been exciting and wicked—and she’d always been susceptible. Although she’d prided herself on hiding that fact from his over-confident Lordship!
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you to my writing buddies at the Coast to Coast Chapter of RWNZ for your support, enthusiasm and encouragement.
You are an awesome bunch of colleagues!
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[JY1]
[JY2]
[JY3]