Much Ado About Dukes

Forbes all but hopped forward. “Oh yes, yes, Your Grace.”

She nodded her thanks to him. “You take Kit to his room, and I shall pour this one into bed.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the butler said with a great deal of relief, obviously concerned he wouldn’t be able to handle two brothers himself.

Though it was likely he had seen and dealt with this kind of thing before.

Brothers did have a tendency to go on the town together, or at least so she understood.

She braced her arm around her husband. “Will, do you think you can manage the stairs, or should we put you both on couches?”

“I am still completely dignified,” William drawled as he leaned against her.

“Bed, then,” she stated. “Off we go.”

And with that, she began leading him.

But as soon as they reached the first step, she realized it was a terrible decision.

Her husband, whose physique she admired so much, was positively massive, and his earlier steadiness now seemed deceptive.

If he fell on her, she’d be crushed like a bug.

“Never mind, Forbes,” she declared before they could head once more into the breach, only to discover retreat impossible. “Let us tuck them up in the green salon.”

Forbes nodded, his eyes bulging as he guided Kit along. “Thank you, Your Grace. That seems like a very wise decision.”

They staggered into the long salon, Kit and Will occasionally reuniting in song.

Beatrice sat Will down on one of the settees, and Forbes tried to put Kit onto one as well, but Kit groaned and rolled onto the floor.

“Water, I think,” she said, propping her hands on her hips, eyeing the two sorry fellows without a great deal of sympathy. “And perhaps some charcoal to soak up the nastiness in their stomachs.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Whatever you say, Your Grace,” Forbes agreed, clearly glad of her assistance in this endeavor. How he might have managed alone, she had no idea. Perhaps a host of footmen usually stormed to his aid.

She nibbled her lower lip, then added, “And a few blankets. I think we must wrap them up. And I will sit by the fire just in case one of them decides to wander off. As I understand, drunkards can be very troublesome.”

Forbes gave her a surprising smile. “Indeed they can, Your Grace, indeed they can. Your sensibility is most admirable.”

“Thank you, Forbes,” she said, pleased at her own good sense. She plunked herself down on the couch and grabbed the complete works of Shakespeare from her husband’s side table. Apparently, he’d been reading it and had marked in the pages. She flipped it open, drawing in a long breath.

Tomorrow was going to be the very devil.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“My darling? My darling, wake up.”

William stirred in his bed, flinging a single arm above his down cover.

He blinked against the heavy weight of sleep. He was so warm and comfortable in his bed, and it did not feel right to wake up. He blinked again, trying to make sense of why he was drifting upward toward that voice and away from dreams.

It was still dark in the room, save for the golden glow of a candle.

“My darling, wake up,” she urged again, gently but with a hint of urgency.

“Mama?” he asked, wiping his hand over his tired eyes.

He knew that voice, that deep, lovely, beautiful voice, which had soothed a thousand hurts and sung him to sleep hundreds of times.