Page 59 of To Defy a Highland Duke

It was unlikely this glorious event would be over soon. If his daughters wanted a tea party this time of night, he’d happily oblige them. Marjorie regularly accused him of spoiling the lasses, and he supposed that was true.

He ought to have spoiled Branwen and Bethea more, and had he to do it over again, he wouldn’t have been so protective. Och, who the hell was he trying to fool? He’d have been as protective, but he’d have permitted them more fun and perhaps a smidge more leniency.

But only a smidge.

Since they’d wed, he’d missed his wards more than he would’ve thought possible. They visited regularly and, try as he might, he still couldn’t quite believe their choices of husbands.

“Anny, please bring enough for all of us,” he said. “Mayhap shortbread and Scotch eggs if they are available too?”

Scotch eggs were a particular favorite of the lasses.

“Of course, Your Grace.” A delighted smile brightening her face, Anny bustled away. The staff was continually amused at the doting papa he’d become.

Her head resting against his shoulder, Cora hummed beneath her breath while Elana walked her fingers up and down his forearm.

These darling girls and their mother had brought more peace and happiness into his life than he’d ever have imagined. He was happy, truly happy, and grew more so each day.

A few minutes later, just as Anny returned with the requested tea, the bedchamber door opened again. Phemie, grinning from ear to ear, poked her head out. “Ye can come in now.”

Rather startled at the unexpectedly swift birth, Keane rose.

Elana and Cora had already scampered to their feet and darted to the door where they bounced on their toes.

He held his hands out and wiggled his fingers, and they obediently latched onto him. “We shall need to be verra quiet and calm. Newborns are verra sensitive to noise.”

“Aye, we’ll be as quiet as mouses,” Cora whispered.

“Mice,” Elana corrected, in the way only an older sister could.

Perplexed, Cora frowned. “That’s what I said, Elana. Mouses.”

Elana rolled her eyes and looked to Keane for confirmation.

“Let’s go in, shall we?” he suggested.

The girls nodded eagerly, and when Phemie swung the door wide, they both tip-toed inside.

Anny followed, bearing the laden tray. “Shall I lay it out on the table, Your Grace?”

Marjorie glanced up from the basket she’d been peering into atop the bed. “Yes, please.” As the maid set the service on the table, Marjorie waved her daughters forward. “Come, darlings.”

They released his hands and ran to the bed, scrambling onto the mattress.

“Gently,” their mother warned softly.

“Ooh,” Cora breathed reverently.

Elana gasped. “Three?”

Keane neared the bed, his heart swelling at the wonderment in the girls’ faces.

“Papa.” Cora looked up, awe stamped upon her features. “Chimera had three kittens.”

Eyes half-closed, Chimera relaxed on her side, three tiny bits of fuzz suckling at her teats. Sphynx leaped onto the bed, evidently curious what the fuss was all about.

She sniffed each kitten, then nosed her sister in approval before plopping her very rounded form beside the basket. She’d deliver her bairns soon too. In truth, he’d expected the cats to have become mothers long ago.

Likely, that dapper black fellow with the white whiskers and mustache that had shown up around the stables a few months back was responsible for Chimera and Sphynx’s condition.