Page 37 of His One and Only Lady

Grinning and revealing a missing front tooth, Enos nodded as he tucked the ribbon into his pocket.

“Lucky lassie,” he said beneath his breath. “The bairns will be weaned end of September.”

Just in time for Bernadine’s birthday, October fourth.

Pulling his cap from his head and wiping his forehead with his forearm, the head groom jutted his chin toward the mother. “Preta is young—barely a year old herself—but she’s a natural mother. Not all females are, ye ken.”

“I’ll say not,” dared one of the maids, with a saucy smile. “Half don’t know what to do with theirs, and the other half cannot be bothered with them.”

She wasn’t referring to animals. Neither was she wrong.

Miss Mayfield squatted beside a little girl, and a strange look flitted across her features. She shifted her attention to Preta. A stricken—guilty?—expression had chased her warm smile away when she’d lifted her head and spied him after Bernadine’s enthusiastic declaration.

He’d have to speak with his daughter about Miss Mayfield and explain why the governess couldn't become her mother.

A horse snorted in a stall, and another whuffed a response. Outside, birds chirped and tweeted. In the distance, a man shouted, and a woman laughed. The welcome breeze passing from the open doors on one end of the stables to the other carried the tangy aromas of sweet hay, oats, liniment, and fresh manure.

No more than five or six, a dark-haired waif wrinkled her nose before pinching it with her thumb and forefinger. “Pee-ew.”

Snickers broke out as more children did the same.

“Stinky pooh.”

“Pee-ew.”

“Poopy poop.”

“That’s enough, children,” Miss Mayfield gently admonished. “We do not discuss unpleasant smells.”

Bernadine climbed to her feet and made her way to Theran. He lifted her onto his shoulders. She giggled and clutched his head. Chuckling, he guided her little hands to the side of his head and not over his eyes.

“We should return to the house, children. We must prepare to watch the boat races,” the other governess, whom Theran did not know, announced.

Now there was proper governess material.

Her thick eyebrows grew together across a large nose, which balanced a pair of thick spectacles. When she smiled—which she did often—her slightly bucked teeth gave her the appearance of a happy rabbit. As broad at the shoulders as she was at the hips, in her burlap-brown gown, she rather resembled a potato. Though no hairs protruded from her chin, a pea-sized mole upon her right cheek did.

All in all, the perfect specimen of a governess.

In every way, the opposite of the green-eyed goddess who’d upended Theran’s comfortable existence.

He caught himself.

Goddess?

Now he waxed nonsensical.

He blamed his ridiculous musings on his lack of sleep. Theran had tossed and turned in his overheated room, visions of Miss Mayfield fighting off Lord Ceddes disrupting all attempts to drift into slumber. Not to mention the urge he’d almost indulged to kiss her. His pillow had taken a beating as he’d pounded and thumped the innocent padding in an attempt to get comfortable and to put her from his mind.

It was better when they were at odds, as they had been since that first day.

Now that he’d held her soft, womanly form in his arms, he couldn’t forget the feel of her rounded curves. Her clean fragrance with the merest hint of citrus.

Miss Mayfield straightened and handed Enos the pup. “Thank you.”

“Yer welcome, lass.” He placed the whimpering pup with his anxious mother, who proceeded to lick him thoroughly.

“I have a foal to check on. Excuse me.” Lifting a finger to his forehead in a silent salute, Enos departed.