Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

He eased back to look at her closely. Today she resembled her mother very much. Her hair was brushed till it shone a bright blond; two plaits were looped about her head to keep the long strands neat. A lump formed in his throat. “Hello, Angel. You look very pretty today.”

His gaze shifted to where Miss Clark stood, arms filled with a wriggling, squirming child.

“You had better hand Poppy over, too,” he warned, “or you’ll be in danger of dropping her. Never one to be left out is this little lady. We’ll have our hands full when she’s older.”

Miss Clark said nothing as she placed the child on the center of his chest, between her two sisters. She brushed her fingers over the short curls on Poppy’s head before she turned away.

Poppy caught his face in her chubby little hands and rubbed their noses together.

He sighed. “You are lovely too, little one. Is that a new dress you’re wearing, Maisy?”

Maisy plucked at it. “It’s my new pretty one,” she said proudly.

“It was mine, but Maisy needs it now,” Willow said quietly. “Miss Clark said she never had a sister to give her prettiest gowns to, but I can show Maisy how to be all grown up.”

He smiled at his daughter, but his heartbeat sped up. Willow was talking a lot more than she normally would. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “That is very sweet of you.”

When Maisy wriggled free of his grip, grabbed a heavy glass paperweight from

the desk, and scurried into the desk well at his feet, he let her go without a word of protest. It had been an age since they had all come and he was pleased to see it did not take long for old habits to resurrect themselves. He hadn’t realized they’d stopped coming, and all it had taken was one day and a very crafty woman to tumble his world again.

He glanced at Miss Clark, surprised to see her frowning at the newssheet spread across his desk. She had even removed her spectacles, proving she did not need them to read. Maybe one day she would stop tormenting him.

He laughed at the idea and tickled his eldest beneath her chin. “There is no need to grow up too fast. You’re all the perfect size for sitting on my lap.” Including Meredith Clark.

He hugged Willow again and rejoiced when her arms tightened about his neck. She held him a long time, only releasing him because Poppy was selfishly pushing her away.

He reached into his desk drawer and withdrew a scrap of paper and stick of lead. “Willow used to draw for me,” he told Miss Clark, who had replaced her spectacles and was standing at the window, looking out at the grounds. “I wonder if she would like to today?”

Miss Clark did not respond, but his daughter’s eyes lit up with interest. She nodded enthusiastically, hurried around the desk, and climbed onto a chair placed across from him. It wasn’t close enough, but Miss Clark was quick in offering assistance. She drew the chair closer and lingered until Willow was settled. That left him with only Poppy to entertain. The little scamp touched his face, his cravat, and the bright, shining ruby pin holding it in place. Without further ado, she embraced him, a little whimper of sound leaving her lips.

He glanced up at Miss Clark and noticed the frown had been replaced by amusement. He winked at her. “I thought we were to meet last night.”

“Forgive me,” she murmured, lowering her eyes. “I hoped you wouldn’t mind the delay too much if you received a visit from your daughters along with conducting our meeting. I became caught up in a story last night and lost track of the time.”

He juggled Poppy so she could see her sisters. “What was the story about?”

“Their mother,” Miss Clark told him, her eyes softening when she looked down upon him. “Nurse was kind enough to recall some events in Lady Grayling’s childhood for us. Your daughters were enthralled and took a little longer than normal to fall asleep afterward.”

“Ah,” he murmured, but he was rather surprised that his former lover, now his children’s governess, had encouraged talk of his late wife. But then, Miss Clark was not particularly sentimental about certain things. She undoubtedly didn’t find mention of Augusta’s life the least bit troubling. “What did nurse have to recount?”

“Oh, lots of things. She mentioned the horse Lady Grayling loved to ride when she was just Willow’s age, the friends she had, and the mischief they occasionally got into when no one was looking. The way she loved her daughters and how she sees so much of Lady Grayling in them.”

Constantine glanced at his daughters and saw that their lips had lifted into smiles, eyes sparkling at the mention of the resemblance. He saw it every day but rarely mentioned it to them. How clever of Miss Clark. She’d discovered in a day how to make his children smile again.

He’d never meant them to forget Augusta. He would try harder to keep her memory alive.

When Poppy began to grizzle, Miss Clark moved to take her. “I believe the young lady requires a rest. She’s had an eventful morning knocking over wooden block towers. If it’s not too much trouble, might we have more? There are not enough for all three to play with at once. And this little miss does enjoy causing havoc.”

“Of course. You may have whatever you require.”

“Thank you.”

Poppy went to Miss Clark easily, Maisy obediently crawled out from beneath the desk, but Willow lingered over her drawing.

His eldest wasn’t at all ready to end her visit. The thought pleased him immensely. “I can bring her up in a little while,” he murmured softly. “Let her finish.”

“Very well, my lord.” Juggling her bundle, Miss Clark held her hand out to Maisy and guided her from the room. He watched them go, doing his best not to stare at the gentle sway of Miss Clark’s body, and then turned his attention to his daughter.