One could ignore a summons from His Grace. The duke would simply issue a louder summons or come deliver the next summons in person. One.

Each time he saw her, she was a little more frazzled, a little more tightly wound. Each time he saw her, he was a little more frazzled, more tightly stretched between growing desire and an even more intense need to protect her despite her secretiveness and stubbornness. “You’re.

You have a certain lot in life, my lord. Some of it you chose, some you did not, and much of it you did not realize you were choosing. Still, it is your lot in life, and you must make the best of it.

She would not have thought she could fall in love with a man because he put aside his lovemaking to tend to a baby, but as she watched Vim smiling at the child, enjoying the child, she realized she’d gotten one stubborn, long-despaired-of wish to come true: she’d fallen in love. She.

He’s asleep.” Vim whispered the words, unwilling to disturb the child or the moment. When Sophie made no move to leave the sofa, he stroked his hand along the side of her head, reveling in the feel of her warm, silky hair. She put the book aside, and the next time Vim caressed her hair, she sighed and turned her face into his shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time, while the fire burned down and both thought of what might have been and what could never be.

He should have told her that whatever her station in life – cook, housekeeper, companion, governess, whatever, it mattered naught to him so long as she exchanged it for the position of his baroness. And.

Hello, lad.” Vim had to smile at the way the baby started bouncing in Sophie’s embrace and reaching his arms toward Vim. “I missed you too.” She passed him the baby, a gesture he was sure had more to do with preventing her brothers from putting out his lights than anything else. Still, it felt good to hold the child, to see that somebody was glad to know he’d not frozen in some snowbank. Sophie.

Victor hadn’t exactly looked forward to death before, he was probably contemplating it a bit more fondly as the morning progressed.

He shied off that fence and turned his mind to Anna’s virtual admission she was in trouble. That was progress, he decided. From bearing confidences, to being in trouble. Dev had been right, and it meant Westhaven had to take a little more seriously Anna’s threats to leave him. What kind of trouble would a young, pretty, gently reared housekeeper have? She.

What exactly do you want to know that you weren’t able to get out of Val?” “Where did you find her? I am in the market for same.” “I lured her to my employ with my endless buckets of charm,” Westhaven said dryly. “You are charming,” Dev said when they were trotting along. “You just can’t afford to be flirtatious, as well.” Westhaven.