back lawns, her brother’s squeals piercing the air.
Her lips parted at the sight meeting her. Jonathan dangled precariously over Daniel’s shoulders, his legs kicking, his fists pounding Daniel’s back. His protests were interspersed with high-pitched yelps of delight as Daniel dipped and twirled the wildcat he carried like a sack of seed over his shoulder.
Daniel’s state of dress—or rather undress—kept Julia frozen in place, as riveted to the sight before her as she had been to the foreign exhibits at the fair.
He had discarded his hat and jacket, and his dark waistcoat stretched taut over his lean torso. The sleeves of his white linen shirt had been rolled back, leaving his muscular forearms brazenly bare. Beguiled, Julia’s gaze was glued to the teasing display of naked skin, and she swallowed.
“Jonathan could use a big brother, being coddled and cosseted by the two of us.”
Julia snapped her mouth closed as Emily joined her. Her sister’s comment gave her pause. Edmund would be Jonathan’s brother,
not
Daniel. But she could not fathom her haughty duke with one gleaming button undone, let alone wildly frolicking with her brother. Or perching him on his shoulders as Daniel had done earlier at the fair.
Truth be told, Edmund bowed politely in Jonathan’s direction and gave him a proper how-do-you-do. He then sought out Jonathan’s nurse, as if greeting her brother was another duty to be dispensed with and the boy summarily dismissed.
“Few men interact well with children, Julia,” Emily said softly. “I am sure it’s different when it comes to their own.”
Disconcerted at her sister’s astute reading of her thoughts, Julia summoned a brave face and forced conviction into her tone. “Of course. I am sure Edmund will make a wonderful father.”
“Mmh,” Emily said.
Julia worried over her sister’s noncommittal response, but another cry from Jonathan returned her attention to the scene below. A breeze combed through Daniel’s dark hair, and as if it carried her scent, his head lifted and those compelling green eyes caught hers. As their gazes locked, he flashed her a white-toothed smile.
His gaze roamed over the blue ribbon securing her recalcitrant curls into a tight chignon, her bare shoulders, and the décolletage of her bodice. Like a ray of sun, his bold, admiring perusal warmed where it touched.
His smile abruptly vanished and he grunted, doubling over. With his guard down, Jonathan’s foot had managed to connect with Daniel’s gut. Recovering, Daniel caught Jonathan in time to slow his snakelike slither down Daniel’s lean body and smooth the boy’s landing on the ground.
The spell broken, Julia stepped back and savored the breeze that cooled her body.
Emily’s laughter trilled, and she curled her arm through Julia’s. “Shall we rescue our guest before Jonathan inflicts serious damage?”
She allowed Emily to draw her inside as a voice piped up in the back recesses of her mind.
And who would protect them from their guest?
“H E IS AN American sailor,” Jonathan explained over a mouthful of succulent duck as he bounced up and down in his seat. “My ship captured him to help us fight Napoleon. He is my prisoner now.”
“I see. While I am impressed by your exploits, I cannot say the same in regard to your display of table manners, or lack thereof,” the Earl of Taunton said dryly, addressing his son. “Manners dictate one finishes chewing their food before speaking
and
refrains from fidgeting at the table.”
Chastised, Jonathan slumped in his seat and regarded his father balefully. He dropped his fork with a clatter onto the fine Limoges china, the earl’s crest gracing the top rim of the plate. “Done! Can I take my prisoner to walk the plank now?”
Her father eyed Jonathan’s discarded fork and sighed. “It appears we have more work to do before you are ready to join the adult table. Your prisoner is our guest for the remainder of the meal, so plank
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