Say Yes to the Duke (6 page)

Chapter Five

“Oh, no,” Janice whispered, and crouched in the straw next to Oscar’s inert form.
At least he was breathing. And his color was good. “I can’t believe he fainted.”

Mr. Callahan chuckled and knelt next to her—mere inches from her. “It’s always the
toughest who go down at birthings.”

She could feel his heat. Smell his clean, soapy scent, mingled with a whiff of leather
and linen. But she must focus on Oscar, not on the groom, who laid two fingers on
the older man’s neck.

“His pulse is strong and steady,” Mr. Callahan said. “He’ll come round.”

At that, Oscar’s eyes opened and he looked quizzically about him. “What the devil?”

“You fainted,” Janice told him gently.

“No,” he whispered. “I don’t faint.” He sat up on his elbows. “Last thing I remember,
we were watching the dog—” He swallowed hard.

Janice looked over her shoulder at Esmeralda and gasped. “Another puppy!”

Esmeralda once more did what her instincts told her to do, cleaning the wriggling
newborn and nudging him to snuggle with his sibling.

Oscar groaned and laid his head back down.

“It’s not uncommon to get a bit dizzy at things like this,” Mr. Callahan told him
lightly, which Janice appreciated very much. Oscar had his dignity, after all. “Let
me help you up and get you upstairs.”

Oscar winced. “I suppose that’s best.”

Janice laid her hand on the older man’s grizzled jaw. “I want to give you a sip of
Daddy’s whiskey right now, and once you get to your bed, take some more from your
own flask. Will you promise me that?”

“Aye.” Oscar didn’t even wince as she dribbled some of the potent liquid into his
mouth. He swallowed it as if it were the elixir of the gods. “I want to stand up,”
he rasped after a moment.

Mr. Callahan helped him to his feet.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Janice couldn’t help but worry.

“I’m right as rain.” There was gravel—and perhaps a bit of annoyance—in Oscar’s tone.

Mr. Callahan exchanged a brief look with her. The slight upward curve of one side
of his mouth mirrored her own amusement—and relief.

Aaron appeared at the stall door and peered around them to Esmeralda and her family.
“Look at that, will you?” Then he seemed to notice Oscar’s distressed expression.
“What’s wrong? Do you need a doctor, Mr Camp?”

“No, I don’t need a doctor.” Oscar lowered his bushy eyebrows at the boy, who drew
back an inch or two.

“Sorry,” Aaron said.

“No need to be.” Mr. Callahan explained in very few words to the junior groom that
Oscar needed to be taken upstairs to his bed—but that he was just fine.

“Right as rain,” Oscar said again.

Aaron grinned at him. “Let me help you. I can do it.”

“All right,” the old servant grumbled. “Let’s go, son.”

“His name is Aaron,” Mr. Callahan clarified, then lifted his chin at the boy. “Help
Mr. Camp find his flask when he gets there.”

Aaron nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Janice couldn’t help but approve of Mr. Callahan at the moment. He was good at looking
after strays, wasn’t he? Aaron was the lowliest of the grooms. She knew from her walk
with him to the stables that he had only a sister and she’d emigrated several years
ago. And while Oscar wasn’t a stray, exactly, he needed careful handling.

“All right.” Oscar grimaced. “Let’s go—Aaron.”

Janice looked after both of them as they departed, and when they were a decent length
away she actually chuckled. “I know I shouldn’t laugh at Oscar’s fainting.”

“You’re right.” Mr. Callahan had a twinkle in his eye when he looked at her.

“I never imagined Oscar as sensitive,” she said. “He doesn’t come across that way,
usually. As you see, he can be quite the curmudgeon.”

The groom extended his palm, indicating that she could exit the stall first. “No man
likes to be seen as weak. And no man likes to be fussed over by a woman.”

On the other side of Esmeralda’s wall, Janice said, “But women add a sense of civility
and ease to any situation.”

“Ease?” Mr. Callahan pulled the door shut behind him.

“Yes.” Janice knew she sounded lofty, but he brought that out in her.

“I don’t feel ease around
you,
Lady Janice.” He seemed especially interested in the tendril of hair tumbling down
one side of her face.

She wondered if her cheeks were as red as they felt. “You should,” she said, and heard
that prim tone in her voice that came when she was in over her head. “I’m perfectly
agreeable.”

“Agreeable?” He gave a short laugh. “That’s an interesting choice of words.” He leaned
his elbow on the edge of the stall, put his chin in his hand, and looked at her as
if he could stare at her for hours.

She’d never experienced such absorbed interest from a man and was entirely flummoxed.
“Being agreeable is what I’m best at. Marcia is the great beauty and Cynthia is adorable.
I get to be the sister who gets along well with everyone, and I don’t mind in the
least.”

“I can’t believe that you do.” He chuckled. “You’re not a pushover, as I well know.
You’ve got yourself a temper, my lady.”

She raised her chin. “I only behave that way when I’m required to, Mr. Callahan. When
I’m put into a corner and need to fight back. And so far, you’re the first man who’s
ever brought that out in me.”

“Oh.” He gave her a lazy grin. “You should behave that way more often.” There was
smoke in his voice.

Her heart beat faster. “You’re being silly.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Please change the subject.” Her voice came out as a mere squeak. She could have simply
turned and left him, but—

She couldn’t.

She craved every second she could get in his company.

It was foolish.

But she couldn’t help herself. He was like a drug.

“All right.” He stood up straight and folded those massive arms over his chest. “What
do you think of the duke so far?”

She blinked several times, overwhelmed by the leashed power she sensed in those muscles
of his. She didn’t think Gregory could take him down, nor Daddy. And certainly not
Peter or Robert.

“His Grace,” she said in a thin voice, “is perfectly courteous and pleasant—if a bit
demanding and unconventional.”

She didn’t care about His Grace. Especially when she looked into this man’s sapphire
blue eyes. She wanted to know how he could have possibly kissed a hundred women. Of
course, she couldn’t
ask.
And she prayed he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

“You couldn’t possibly,” she said immediately, her pulse pounding in her throat.

“Oh, yes, I do.” He grinned. “You want to know … how is it that this man has kissed
so many women? He’s a groom, for goodness’ sake. He lives in the stables. Where in
heaven’s name are all the women?”

Mortification made her hot. “You’re—you’re wrong.”

“Am I?” he said easily, as if he didn’t mind in the least her curiosity. “But we were
discussing the duke.… What did he do to merit your observation that he’s demanding
and unconventional?”

She couldn’t understand how Mr. Callahan was nothing more than a groom—not that the
position wasn’t respectable, but he radiated such intelligence and confidence, surely
he could have become a scholarship student and become a country doctor, or, at the
least, a tenant farmer who managed his own lands.

She dragged her wandering thoughts, like rebellious runaway children, back to the
question at hand. “His Grace wanted to show me his conservatory and the family portraits
without anyone to chaperone us.”

“I’m not surprised.” Mr. Callahan lifted and dropped his sculpted shoulders. “I told
you—beware of him.”

“It was enthusiasm for his treasures that caused him to forget the proprieties,” she
said. “Nothing nefarious. Besides, he himself is arranging a chaperone for me.”

“Which he hasn’t provided the other ladies, who should have them, too.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, well, I haven’t deduced exactly why they’re here yet.”

“Remain naïve,” the groom warned her, “but it will be at your peril.” He looked over
her head. “Look. In all the commotion, we’ve missed something.” He turned her delicate
shoulders—which stiffened immediately at his touch—so that she faced Esmeralda. “More
puppies.”

“Two more!” Janice cried softly. “But … one of them is … brown?” She turned to the
groom and lofted a quizzical brow.

“It must look like its father.”

She gave a bright laugh. “How wonderful!”

They watched in silence as another one was born, this one white with a large black
spot on his side. Esmeralda went to work on him, nipping, cleaning, pushing him with
her nose. But he didn’t respond the way the others did. There was no wriggling. No
blind clawing about, seeking warmth and solace.

He lay there in the straw, mute and motionless. But Esmeralda, dedicated mother that
she was, wouldn’t stop trying. The other puppies stayed busy climbing over one another
while she worked.

“Mr. Callahan—,” Janice said, a catch in her voice.

But he was already there, through the stall door and kneeling in the straw. He rubbed
the newcomer’s belly, his tiny chest, and stroked his muzzle. “Come on,” he urged
the puppy.

But nothing happened. Esmeralda nosed around him, clearly worried.

The groom picked up the scrawny parcel, cupped the puppy in his palm, and gave him
another massage.

“Oh, wake up,” Janice murmured. “Please, little one.”

Nothing.

It pained her to see the puppy so lifeless, but she couldn’t afford to succumb to
the feeling. She couldn’t distract Mr. Callahan from saving him.

“You’re going to wake up,” the groom told the prone pup. Opening the newborn’s mouth
and clearing it, Mr. Callahan blew into it. The pup’s ribs expanded and sank back.

One more try.

No, two.

And three. Why not? Janice was glad Mr. Callahan couldn’t bear to give up just yet.

Four.

The puppy gave a little start. A wriggle. A tiny yelp.

“Yes!” said Janice. “Oh, please, be well.”

Esmeralda nosed the tiny body cradled in Mr. Callahan’s hand with the impatience that
any new mother would have when she wanted to connect with her baby.

“Is it all right?” Janice couldn’t help hoping.

“I believe so.” Mr. Callahan sounded well satisfied when he laid the now-wriggling
newest member of the family in the straw next to his siblings.

“Oh, thank God.” Janice shot through the door and wiped away a tear on her way to
Mr. Callahan’s side again.

Together they watched Esmeralda line up her troops. The one that had been ailing seemed
as frantic to get to her teats as the rest now.

“Thank you for saving it,” Janice quietly told the man beside her.

“I was glad to do it.” They sat in silence a moment, watching the happy scene; then
he added, “For Esmeralda.”

Not for Janice, of course. He was making that clear. But she was so grateful to him
for saving the puppy, she ignored the slight.

“I’ve already named almost all of them,” she said. “Pinky, Walnut, Sweetie, and Beanie.
Whether they’re boys or girls, the names will fit.”

“How did you do that so fast?”

“The names just came to me.” She grinned at him. “I left the last one for you.” She
dared to touch the groom’s arm, and it instantly brought her back to that kiss in
the road. “You saved him. He’s your puppy. Or she. So
you’ll
name that one.”

And she stood before Mr. Callahan could react or respond.

“Wait a minute.” He stood, too. “I don’t name puppies.”

“You’ll name this one.” Despite her fascination with the canine family, Janice was
even more fascinated with Mr. Callahan. She put the stall door between them. “I plan
to tell your friends that you saved it and must name it—”

“For the love of God, don’t do that.” He didn’t look a bit repentant when he opened
the stall door and came around himself. “I’ll name the damned thing; just don’t go
out there telling them I saved a puppy.”

“Mr. Callahan.”
His nearness set off alarms in her. “It is not a damned thing.”

Funny squeaks started soft and grew insistent, near frantic—puppies seeking their
mother’s warmth. The sounds made Janice’s whole being soften.

Who couldn’t be moved by them?

When she turned back to look at the groom, she saw that he was taking it all in, too.

“Puppy noises,” he murmured, observing the little family with obvious pleasure. “Puppy
noises and a strong, beautiful woman next to me. It does get better—when you get that
particular woman alone,
really
alone. But this will do … in the meantime.”

The meantime? Was there going to be a time when he got her alone? “You can’t—” Janice
felt her face heat up and her heart pound. “We can’t be alone. You shouldn’t say things
like that. It’s wrong. I-I should report you, Mr. Callahan.”

“But you won’t, will you?” He turned to look at her then, and it happened again, that
odd, compelling connection, like a beam of invisible light suffusing her and him alone.

“No.” The urge to reach up and lay her palms on his chest, lift her face, and part
her lips for a kiss was so strong, she had to fight to contain it.

Did he want to kiss her, too?

Surely he must—this feeling couldn’t be one-sided. It wasn’t something she even wanted.
It was silly of her to kiss a groom—not only would Mother be appalled; it would lead
nowhere.

But Janice wanted to. Oh, how she did!

“You’re wondering how I’ve kissed so many women.” His voice was laced with cynical
amusement. “It’s because I excel at attracting the type who needs comforting—and that’s
an awful lot of women, Lady Janice. Every town is brimming with them, women who’ve
been hurt. Who need reassurance. Who want to believe that there’s more to life than
scrubbing and child rearing, hiking up their skirts and painting their faces to please
men they don’t even like and who never thank them for anything they do.” He paused
and tipped up her chin. “But you’re not one of those women. You don’t need me.”