watched as Kingsley rubbed noses with George, which made the infant laugh. Kingsley laid him on a blanket on the floor and then lifted the boy’s clothing, exposing his rounded belly. The man proceeded to make rude noises on George’s tummy, producing loud laughs from the boy.
“Perhaps you should try this, Miss Drake,” Kingsley said as he smiled down at George. “He quite enjoys a good laugh.”
“I will leave that up to his uncle.”
“Do remember, the boy just ate,” Louisa said, staring down at her son with a motherly smile.
George’s hands reached out and caught Kingsley’s nose. The sound of Kingsley’s laugh sent a ripple of warmth through Emma that she didn’t understand. How could a man she disliked affect her so?
“Simon, where is Harry? He usually spends time with Charlotte now.”
Kingsley rose and then picked up George before handing him off to Louisa. “He is changing as I should also do. I didn’t want to waste my opportunity to see my nephew.”
“Your Grace, Lord and Lady Radley are here, as is Lord Ainsley,” a footman said from the threshold.
Emma and Kingsley both stared over at Louisa, who rubbed her temples. “Ask Nurse to come up and take care of George. Tell our guests that I will be there presently.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I do not know, so don’t ask,” Louisa said to them both before handing George to Emma. “I must change into something presentable before greeting them.”
Louisa ran off as George started to fuss. Emma held him tightly and swayed to calm the infant. After a few moments, he settled down.
“Ainsley can only be here for one reason,” Kingsley said with a slight grimace. “Will you accept him?”
She slid a glance at the tall man and shrugged. “I have not decided yet. Is George asleep?”
Kingsley walked around until he could see the baby’s eyes. “I believe you have done it, Miss Drake. The boy is fast asleep. Please excuse me, but I also must change.”
As he walked away, she realized with Ainsley here, the opportunity to scratch off number four and have her first kiss might come to pass. With Louisa and Harry preoccupied with their new guests, there should be plenty of opportunities to sneak away. The ducal home was huge, with a plethora of empty rooms where she could allow him a quick kiss. She rubbed George’s back and smiled. This would be the perfect chance.
SIMON SLAMMED THE DOOR to his bedchamber. What the bloody hell was Ainsley doing here? And why in hell did it bother him so much? She deserved Ainsley. He was a good man, albeit in desperate need of money to get his estates back in order, but still, Simon had no doubt earl would treat her well.
After changing out of his damp clothes, he took a deep breath and headed to the salon. As he walked down the stairs, his two other nephews raced past him to get to the nursery and find Charlotte.
“Good afternoon, boys.”
“Good afternoon, uncle,” they said in unison.
“You really should walk up the steps,” he reminded them.
“Yes, sir.”
Good God, was he becoming the responsible uncle? He reached the salon and could hear his half-sister’s voice already.
“Good afternoon, Daphne.” He looked over at her husband and said, “Radley.”
She stopped midsentence and looked at him. “What are you doing here, Simon?”
“I was invited.” He smirked.
Daphne glanced away quickly. “Well, I certainly didn’t mean to intrude, but when I had heard Harry had come down to Worth, I thought it would be an excellent idea to do the same. There is plenty of room here.”
“Come along, you two, play nice,” Radley said as he reached for a biscuit.
“Where is Harry?” Simon asked Louisa.
“In the library with Charlotte. He will be here in a moment.”
“I shall find him.” Anything to get away from his sister. They barely tolerated each other, no matter how hard Harry tried. The library door was closed, so Simon quietly opened it and peered inside.
“Then what happened, Papa?”
“My father was furious with me. He sent me off to Eton in the hope that I would learn to be a respectable young man.”
“Did it work?”
“No,” Simon replied as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“Uncle Simon,” Charlotte said with a giggle. “It’s Papa’s story, not yours.”
Simon looked at Harry, who seemed in far better spirits with his daughter on his lap, recounting stories of his childhood. He sank into a velvet wingback chair next to them. “Did he tell you about the time he went to India and