Miss Thraxton pulled her gloves from a pocket and tugged them on. “I so love to ride,” she told the children. “I named my first horse Sweetums, but I had to change it when I found out she was a he.”

Elizabeth giggled. “Didn’t you know how to tell?”

“Not then. I was only five.”

Selena’s smooth brow puckered. “How can you tell if a horse is a boy horse or a girl horse?”

“What a good question,” Anna said, sending Anthony a look so filled with mischief that an alarm sounded deep in his head. “Why don’t you ask Lord Greyley? He knows all about horses.”

Selena obediently turned her wide, innocent blue gaze toward him, effectively freezing his voice. Good God, what do I say now?

Selena tugged on his coat. “Lord Greyley, how do you tell a boy horse from—”

“There isn’t time,” he choked out. He reached to one side and yanked the bellpull. Jenkins appeared immediately.

“Have the head groom ready the children’s horses and the new mare for Miss Thraxton.”

“Yes, my lord. Is there anything else?”

“See the children to the nursery, will you? They have to change.” He was careful to avoid Selena’s inquiring gaze. “I assume all of you are going?”

They nodded except Desford.

“Well?” Anthony asked.

The boy shrugged, his hands deep in his pockets, his shoulders rounded. “I suppose I’ll go. There’s nothing else to do.”

“Excellent,” Anna said. “You are in charge, Desford. Once everyone has changed, gather them together and meet me in the stables. I’ll wait for you there.”

To Anthony’s surprise, Desford gave a sullen nod. Jenkins held the door open and the children filed out.

Anthony barely waited for the door to close before he sent a glare at Thraxton. “You don’t play fair. How the hell was I supposed to answer a question like that?”

She pursed her lips. “Perhaps you could make a sketch.”

“A sketch? You expect me to draw—” He broke off at her grin. “Damn you, Thraxton. This isn’t funny.”

“Nonsense. You need to get used to such questions; they are your children now.”

“More’s the pity.”

“Don’t tell me that. You care for them; I can tell.”

“Of course I care for them,” he said stiffly. “They are my flesh and blood.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I have tons of relatives and there are several I quite often wish to perdition.”

“I was raised differently. I was raised to believe that my family is my responsibility. I do not take my responsibilities lightly.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed that. If we’re going to discuss responsibilities, there is one thing…”

“What?”

She hesitated, then said, “It isn’t my place to make suggestions, but—”

“No, it isn’t.”

“—you really must watch your temper. How can you expect Desford to refrain from cursing when you do it all of the time?” She shook her head. “You are setting a poor example.”

Anthony was astounded. No one had told him how to act for years. No one. And yet here was a governess—a governess, for the love of God. It was not to be borne.