“It takes a long time for a baby to grow and be ready to come into the world,” Julia said. “Did you know horses take even longer? Almost a year. And elephants can carry their babes inside them for almost two years.”

  Her Grace chuckled. “Then I am glad I am no elephant.”

  The duke kissed her fingers. “But you would make such a pretty one, my dear.”

  His wife looked at him with such love that it took Julia’s breath away.

  If only a man could view her in such a way. If only she were in a position to find a husband.

  And love.

  Suddenly, she felt Lord Devin’s eyes upon her, compelling her to look his way. When she did, she saw they had darkened. It caused her to shudder. Quickly, she glanced away.

  “I hope you are going to love your new cousin,” the duke said. “Boy or girl.”

  “I hope it’s a boy,” Freddie declared. “I like boys better.”

  “But it would be nice to have a girl in the family,” Charlie said.

  “Either way, I know you will be good cousins—and good influences—on this babe,” Her Grace said firmly.

  The couple rose and His Grace said, “Carry on, Miss Birmingham. We won’t take up any more of your time.”

  After they left, Charlie sighed. “I wonder what they are going to call the baby? Maybe we could think of names for him. Or her.”

  “We could make a list,” said the practical Freddie. “They might like that. Can we do that now, Miss Birmingham?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  She felt Lord Devin’s eyes on her as she gave Charlie a clean piece of parchment. They talked about several names, debating why they liked them. Charlie insisted they put Sandra on the page.

  “It was Mama’s name,” he said. “How do you spell that?”

  Julia told him and he carefully added it to their growing list.

  Freddie counted. “That’s nine names. We should make it even. Ten would be good.” He scratched his head. “One more.”

  “Why not ask Miss Birmingham what her name is?” Lord Devin asked, coming to life in his corner. “She might have a particularly pretty name that could go on your list.”

  “That’s a good idea, my lord,” Freddie said before turning to her. “What is your name, Miss Birmingham.” He giggled. “I know it can’t be Miss.”

  Lord Devin was too clever for his own good. He hadn’t been able to wheedle her Christian name from her last night but now she had no graceful way to say no to these precious boys.

  “It is Julia,” she said, spelling it slowly so Charlie could record it.

  “Julia,” Charlie repeated, looking at it. “I like that.”

  “So do I,” Lord Devin said, a devilish smile playing across his sensual lips.

  “It was my grandmother’s name,” she said. “My mother’s mother.”

  “Can we go give the list to Uncle Win and Aunt Sera?” Charlie asked.

  “Of course,” she said.

  Immediately, both boys leaped to their feet. Freddie snatched the page and took off, Charlie running after him.

  Julia started after them when strong fingers grasped her elbow. She turned and glanced down.

  “You see I am putting my left hand to good use, Julia.”

  She felt the heat fill her cheeks. “You are as cheeky as those two are, my lord.”

  “Devin.”

  “My lord,” she said again, her chin rising a notch.

  “I thought you were going to call me Devin, Julia.”

  “And I thought you were going to address me as Miss Birmingham.”

  “I would rather undress you, Julia,” he said, his voice a caress.

  Then his mouth seized hers.

  This was no tentative kiss. It was one of fire and possession. He kept hold of her elbow to keep her from fleeing and wrapped his other arm around her waist, drawing her into him. She sensed need flowing through him, into her, causing the blood to rush to her ears. He coaxed her mouth open and his tongue slid into her mouth. His scent invaded her as his tongue stroked hers. She wriggled, trying to move away, but his other arm slipped around her, pinning her to him.

  She wanted his kiss. She did not want his kiss. She wanted him to stop. She might go mad if he did.

  He murmured something and deepened the kiss, her head falling back as he controlled her body, her breathing, her every thought. She hoped this would go on forever and was disappointed when he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers.

  “I need you,” he said, his breath quick and harsh.

  Julia needed him, too, but would never admit that to him. This was a man who always got what he wanted. Instinctively, she knew no woman had ever said no to him.

  But she must. He was the son of a marquess. She was but a lowly governess. One who would keep her head—and her reputation—intact.

  Firmly, she pushed against his chest. Unfortunately, he didn’t budge. She decided to appeal to his honor.

  “Release me, Lord Devin. You have said I am a lady. I would keep my reputation as one.”

  Reluctance filled his eyes as his hands fell away from her. “Better?” he asked sardonically.

  “If you are a rogue, you may find another playmate, my lord. I am an employee in His Grace’s household and intend to keep this position. That means I will not consent to any dallying with you, my lord. If you continue to insist I do, I must leave.”

  Remorse now filled his face. “I would not hurt you, Julia.”

  “Miss Birmingham,” she insisted, her pride crumbling.

  “I would not hurt you,” he repeated softly. “I have come to care for you.”

  “No. You said it yourself. You want me. Or need me. What you need is to fill the empty space within you, my lord. You can do so in two ways. One, accept His Grace’s offer and become the Woodbridge steward. That will give your life purpose. Two, go to the village inn and tavern. You are a handsome man and there is always a barmaid or willing widow who would be happy to service you. That will meet your physical needs.”

  She stepped away from him. “But that is not why I came to Woodbridge. I have two little boys who are depending upon me. I am here to teach them. Not you. I regret that I can no longer help you. You know what you must do now in order to learn how to write again. It is a process and will take both time and patience. If you can give it both, you will be successful.

  “Good day, my lord.”

  Julia hurried from the schoolroom and fled down the stairs, hoping she would be able to locate Charlie and Freddie. She had been right.

  Lord Devin Hunt was dangerous.

  Now, she had to avoid him at all cost—else she might give in to the voice inside her that whispered to give him everything he asked of her.

  No matter what price she might have to pay.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Devin left his second meeting with Kepler. The steward had been impressed with the questions he had asked. Devin felt like a pretender. Everything he had spoken to the steward about were things triggered by his conversations with Julia Birmingham.

  Julia.

  How that name fit her. Feminine. Strong. Proud.

  He had gone to Win’s library after she left the schoolroom, her cheeks burning bright red, and perused the shelves until he found what he was looking for. Flipping through the pages, he came upon the name Julia. It had derived from the Latin word juvenale, meaning youthful. It also was a feminine form of the Roman name Julius, which took its origins from Jupiter, the Roman god who presided over the heavens and was also responsible for protecting Roman laws. The name meant supreme god.

  Julia Birmingham certainly was protective of her charges. And her good name. Devin didn’t know many men who would have stood up for themselves as boldly as she had to him, wanting to safeguard her own name and reputation from a rogue such as himself. Remorse filled him for making her have to advocate for herself.

  Perhaps he had behaved roguishly in the past—but those days were done. He had told Julia he needed her. It was the truth. She had become as essential to him as the air he breathed.

  Would she have him, warts and all? Or should he say mutilated instead?

  He would find out tonight.

  Making his way to the drawing room, he found himself in time for tea. Win and Sera greeted him.

  “How did your meeting with Kepler go?” Win asked, a hopeful look on his face.

  “I want to accept your offer,” he told his friend. “But I believe there is someone else who would make a far better steward than I ever could.”

  Win looked puzzled. “I don’t believe I have ever heard of someone up for a position who recommended another man for it. What’s going on, Dev?”

  “You have someone right here at Woodbridge who would make for a fine steward. Someone who has the experience which I lack. Julia Birmingham.”

  “Our . . . governess?” Win asked, startled. “I don’t understand.”

  “I have spent quite a bit of time with her, Win. She is helping me train myself to use my left hand and learn to write with it. I talked over things with her that Kepler and I discussed and she explained topics I had questions about with ease. She shadowed her father growing up. It seems she idolized him and followed him about. During those years, she learned everything necessary for how to run an estate.”

  Devin started giving examples and sharing how Julia had explained the bookkeeping system Kepler used.

  When he finished, Win said, “That is all well and good, Dev, but she is my nephews’ governess. It was damned hard to find one who would stay, much less one of Miss Birmingham’s caliber. Besides, she is a woman. Women simply do not manage estates.”

  “She could remain the boys’ governess until they go off to school. That will happen sooner than you believe, Win. They are very bright and I believe this time next year, they will already have left Woodbridge to be educated alongside their peers.”

  Win frowned. “So, you will take the position until then—and then give it up in a year, hoping I might hire Miss Birmingham?”

  “No. I would keep it. I would merely want Julia to run Woodbridge with me. Because I plan to make her my wife. If she’ll have me.”

  Win and Sera immediately looked to one another. Sera burst out laughing and held out her hand.

  “I’ll take my guinea now, Your Grace,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

  Devin stared at them. “What are you talking about?”

  Win grabbed Sera’s hand and kissed her palm. “I don’t have any guineas on my person, Your Grace. Perhaps you would care to collect payment later. Say, in our bedroom?”

  Sera laughed. “I told you so.”

  Win kissed her hand again and released it. Turning to Devin, he said, “Sera told me you were interested in Miss Birmingham. She said she saw the beginnings of a love match between the two of you. I disagreed and bet her a guinea that she was wrong.” He smiled wryly. “Apparently, I can be wrong upon occasion.”

  Devin looked to the smiling Sera. “I don’t know about a love match.”

  “Well, I do. Would you care to place a bet with me, Devin?”

  He froze.

  Did he love Julia Birmingham?

  “I think maybe I do,” he said aloud, answering his own question. To his friends, he said, “If this is love—need, desire, confusion, arguing—then I suppose I am in love with her.”

  “Oh, what have you argued about?” Sera asked, concerned.

  “My kissing her,” he said succinctly.

  His friends burst into laughter.

  “It isn’t funny,” he said, defending himself. “She thinks I’m a rogue and will sully her reputation. She worries about losing her position as your governess. She cares a great deal for Freddie and Charlie and thinks I am placing her in jeopardy.”

  “I can certainly understand things from her viewpoint,” Sera defended. “She is a single woman, alone in the world, forced to earn her living. A governess must be above approach. Any hint of misbehavior or scandal could ruin her references and good name, which would keep her from moving to her next post.”

  She paused. “How was your kiss?”

  “There have been several—and I would say they were all spectacular.”

  His friends laughed heartily at his words.

  Devin frowned. “I am worried that she will not have me.”

  “Why do you think that?” Win demanded, looking angry. “You cut quite the figure. You are educated. A war hero. And you are employed by the Duke of Woodmont. What more could a woman ask for?”

  He held up his mangled hand. “Do you think she has a concern about this, Win?”

  “A woman such as Miss Birmingham would see beyond a man missing a couple of fingers. That would not be of consequence to her,” Sera assured him. “Has she given you any indication that this bothers her?”

  “No,” he admitted. “But it might.”

  Win looked at him steadily. “If you truly have feelings for this woman, Dev, you must tell her. Offer for her. I understand now that you mean for her to aid you in running Woodbridge once my nephews leave for school.”

  “Would you accept that situation?” he asked anxiously.

  “If Miss Birmingham is as skilled and knowledgeable as you make out, then I would welcome her input into running the estate,” his friend said.

  Determination filled him. “Then I will tell her of my feelings tonight. At the celebration.” He grimaced. “If she’ll even talk to me.”

  “It will begin at six o’clock,” Sera informed him. “That is why I only have tea to serve you now. No food. I thought we should save ourselves for all the food that is to be present. As far as Miss Birmingham talking to you, I believe in the adage that actions are louder than words.”

  Win chuckled. “That is my wife’s way of telling you to kiss her first—and then ply her with pretty words. If you offer for her first, she might very well turn you down. Kiss her senseless, my friend—and then tell her you love her.” He glanced at his wife. “I hope she will agree to wed you, Devin. Speaking from experience, I can tell you there is nothing like being married to your best friend. A woman you will grow to love more with each passing day.”

  Devin sensed the powerful current that ran between this duke and duchess.

  And prayed that he could convince Julia they had a future together.

  *

  Sara assisted Julia in changing her gown before she went to collect Freddie and Charlie. She had taken the boys for a ride this afternoon and as they returned, the afternoon had grown quite cool. With the festivities commencing at six o’clock this evening, Julia wanted to be warmly dressed since she figured she would be outdoors for several hours.

  The boys had presented their list of baby names to Their Graces earlier today. The couple had been most gracious in receiving it, thanking their nephews for such a thoughtful list. His Grace had then given the boys permission to be up well past their bedtime so that they might partake in all the events planned.

  “There, you should be warm enough, Miss Birmingham,” Sara said. “Especially if you wear your spencer. Or that pretty shawl of yours.”

  Sara referred to the Kashmir shawl, which was both light and warm. It had been a gift from Lady Sowbury and Julia’s most treasured possession because it brought back good memories of her time with the old woman.

  “I think I will don my spencer,” she told the maid, knowing it would be warmer and leave her hands freer.

  “I’ll get it, Miss Birmingham.”

  Sara retrieved it and helped Julia into it. As she began to button it, a light tap sounded at the door.

  “Who could that be?” the servant asked, crossing to answer it.

  Julia prayed Lord Devin would not be so foolish as to come knocking upon her door again. Fortunately, it had been late and no one had seen him. At least she hoped no one had. Her brain went to their most recent kiss, a soul-searing experience that needed to be ignored. She shoved the memory aside, trying to lock it away behind a door so heavy that even she wouldn’t be able to penetrate it.

  “Your Grace!” Sara said, evidently surprised by the appearance of the duchess.

  “Ah, are you helping Miss Birmingham?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. It is rather chilly tonight. Miss Birmingham wished to change her gown.”

  “Are you done?” Her Grace asked, looking to Julia.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” she replied. “I can button the rest on my own, Sara. Thank you for your help.”

  The maid left and the duchess came into the room. Since she had never come to Julia’s room before, fear ran through her. Perhaps Lord Devin had been seen at her doorway and the duchess was going to sack Julia, cutting her loose without references. She had been here just under a month. Perhaps she could use the previous references from Lord Pelham and Lady Sowbury as she looked for another post and no one would ever need know she had been employed by the Duke of Woodmont. Unless His or Her Grace mentioned to someone of their unsuitable governess.

  “You look in a bit of a panic, Miss Birmingham,” the duchess said. “Are you upset about something?”

  “No, Your Grace,” she said as calmly as possible, her brain running in circles with terrible thoughts. “What might I do for you?”

  “I wanted to let you know that His Grace and I will be fully in charge of the boys during tonight’s festivities. We want to share this celebration together with them. It is important that they know the coming baby will not replace them in our affections and that our hearts will merely open more and be filled with more love.”

  “That is very wise, Your Grace,” Julia said, her heartbeat slowing, thinking she wasn’t about to lose her position in the household, after all.

  “You are responsible for them so much of the time. It is the least we can do. Take them off your hands this evening in order for you to enjoy All Hallow’s Eve and all the activities.”

  “You are most kind, Your Grace.”

  The duchess studied her a long moment. “You are a kind woman as well, Miss Birmingham. You seem to judge others by their hearts and not their appearances.”

  She thought that remark quite odd but said, “It is what is inside us that counts, Your Grace. Our physical appearance is merely window dressing to what is in our soul.”