the sofa, he walked over to the silver salver sitting on the Sheraton table in the entry. He picked up the folded piece of paper he had received that morning, an invitation from Mrs. William Clemens to a small dinner party at her home that evening.
Sometimes it paid to be a duke.
Rafe had already sent word that he would be delighted to attend.
The intimate supper with Richard’s family, Danielle discovered, would be dinner with twenty people, all formally dressed, arriving in expensive carriages at Richard’s mother’s elegant brick residence in Society Hill.
Richard had his own, slightly smaller but no less elegant home just a few blocks away, as well as a cottage in Easton that he used whenever he was there working, which apparently happened quite often.
Dani had spent the afternoon with Richard’s mother; Richard’s son, William Jr.; and his daughter, Sophie—their first real time together. Richard had been with them for a while, but the children seemed to prey on his nerves and he made an excuse to leave.
Dani almost didn’t blame him. William and Sophie had argued and fought and thrown tantrums through most of the day. They were still arguing when Dani prepared to return to Aunt Flora’s house on Arch Street so that she could change out of her day dress and into a more elaborate gown for the evening.
They were still at it when she and Aunt Flora returned at seven o’clock to join the first of the supper guests.
“Give me back my horse!” William Jr. was seven years old, Sophie only six. Both were blond, William with brown eyes and Sophie with green. Both looked a good deal like their father.
“It’s my horse,” Sophie argued. “You gave it to me.”
“I didn’t give it to you—I only let you play with it!”
“Children, please…” Dani hurried toward them, hoping she could stop this latest row before more of the guests arrived. Earlier in the day, their grandmother had tried to placate them with gifts, a toy horse for William, a new doll for Sophie, though the bedchamber they used when they came for a visit overflowed with toys she had given them before.
“Your grandmother’s guests have begun to arrive. You don’t want them thinking you are ill-mannered.”
William whirled on her viciously. “We don’t have to do anything you say! We don’t like you!”
They didn’t seem to like anyone, at least not anyone who tried to control them. Of course, neither Richard’s mother nor Richard himself bothered to try.
Dani sighed. She couldn’t help thinking of the little girl, Maida Ann, and the little boy, Terrance, from the orphanage. They were happy with the tiniest trinket, the least bit of affection. Terrance would have treasured the carved wooden horse Mrs. Clemens had given to William. MaidaAnn would have loved the doll Sophie had tossed into a corner.
Dani looked down at the two blond heads in front of her. Getting the children to accept her as their mother was going to be a Herculean task. She would do it—even though she suspected that neither Richard nor his mother, or even the children themselves really cared if she succeeded.
Mrs. Clemens bustled toward her, a large woman as tall as Dani with blond hair going gray. “Richard’s driver is here to pick up William and Sophie and take them home. Their nurse will be waiting when they get there.”
Dani turned to the children, still bickering over the little carved horse. William tugged the toy from Sophie’s small hands and she started to cry.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” Dani said. She hurried over and retrieved Sophie’s toy from where she had tossed it, then returned and knelt in front of the little girl. “Here’s your new doll. You can take her home with you if you like.”
Sophie took the doll and slammed the porcelain head against the wall, smashing it into a dozen pieces that rained down on the carpet. “I don’t want a silly old doll. I want a horse!”
Mrs. Clemens took hold of Sophie’s hand.