Any Duchess Will Do (Spindle Cove #4)

“No sweets, please, Mr. Fosbury.” Pauline’s voice. “Their grandmother spoils them enough. No, Rose. You mustn’t touch.”


Griff smiled to himself. So many years since she’d worked in this tavern, and his wife—his duchess—still entered the establishment through the rear door.

And even with frazzled hair and two small children in tow, she still took his breath away. Every time.

Colin shot to his feet. “How is she?”

“Which ‘she’?” Pauline led Jonathan by one hand and had little Rose propped on the opposite hip. “Do you mean your wife or your daughter?”

Bram thumped the table, triumphant. “Told you it would be a girl.”

“They’re both well,” Pauline hurried to add. “In excellent health and enjoying some hard-earned rest.”

“I . . . That’s . . .” Colin paled and dropped to the chair again as his knees gave out. “Oh, God.”

Pauline came to Griff’s side and nodded at Colin’s dazed state. “Is that from the drink or the shock of fatherhood?”

“Both, I suspect. Give him a moment, he’ll recover.”

She released Jonathan’s hand and shifted Rose from one arm to the other. “Will you watch them while I pop over to see Sally? I’m expecting a new parcel of books for the library.”

“Of course. But I expect a reward for my trouble.”

She kissed his cheek and whispered a husky, “Later.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He caught Rose and lifted her into his arms, tweaking the snub of her tiny nose. “Look at you, darling. You’re all spangled with sugar.”