Page 40 of The Duke Meets His Match

Chloe swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. “I can carry you outside if you wish. We can watch them together.”

Emily shook her head. “I think it would be worse to watch and not join them.” There was longing in her voice that nearly broke Chloe’s heart.

Chloe wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. “Then I shall sit and read to you.” She pulled up the wooden chair, settled the book on her lap, and opened to the page where she’d stopped reading on her last visit.

“I’d like that. But I don’t know if the big man would like a princess story.”

Chloe’s eyes snapped to Emily’s. “What big man?”

“The one standing behind you.”

Chloe whirled around to find Michael a few steps behind her. Her hand fluttered to her chest. Where on earth had he come from? And how could such a large man move so stealthily? “What are you doing here?”

The corner of his lips twitched. “It’s a pleasure to see you as well.”

Chloe stood and the book thumped to the floor.

“Who is he?” Emily asked behind her.

Chloe cleared her throat and turned to Emily. The child was leaning on her elbows and looking questioningly at both of them. “Emily, this is His Grace, the Duke of—”

“Michael. My name is Michael.” He stepped close to the bedside and crouched down to offer Emily his hand. “How do you do, Emily?”

Emily tentatively reached out. Her tiny fingers were pale and ridiculously fragile in his big hand. “You’re the tallest and biggest person I’ve ever seen.”

He smiled. “You’re the smallest person I’ve seen in a long time.”

Emily’s lips curled in a hint of a smile. “Are you Miss Chloe’s friend?”

Dark eyes gazed up at Chloe before returning to Emily. “I am.”

He’d called her his friend when there was so much more between them. She no longer considered him a cold, distant man who wanted to keep her away from his ward.

“It’s nice to have a friend,” Emily said. “I’m no longer allowed to play with the other girls.”

“That must be hard.”

Emily shrugged a slight shoulder. “Miss Chloe brings me pretty pictures of the outdoors.” She motioned to Chloe’s lithographs displayed on a wood shelf above the bed.

Michael stood to study the artwork. “They’re lovely. I confess that I didn’t know she was an artist.” He looked at Chloe, and her skin tingled beneath his stare.

“Her father was a great painter,” Emily said with pride.

“So I’ve heard.”

Chloe held her breath. She expected a disapproving retort or piercing stare, but instead he continued to look at her with renewed interest…as if her family’s past wasn’t scandalous, but her artwork was to be admired.

“Miss Chloe also reads to me. Do you like stories about princesses and princes?” Emily asked.

Michael nodded. “When I was a boy my favorite story was about a prince fighting a dragon.”

“A fire-breathing dragon?” Emily asked.

The corner of Michael’s lips tilted in a charming grin. “Is there any other kind?”

Emily’s eyes widened in her oval face. “What did they fight over?”

“The princess.”