“Oh, dear,” he said gravely. “I brought the wrong spectacles. These aren’t able to read writing as elegant as yours.”
“I can read it to you.”
“Thank you. I’d enjoy that.” He returned it to her. Then, to his surprise, she scootched nearer until she was nestled against his side, warm and tiny, and yet remarkably overwhelming, as though she encompassed all the space around him, claimed it, and made it hers.
“The dog was lonely. He wanted a friend. The girl was lonely. She wanted a dog.” She looked up at him expectantly.
“Does she get a dog?”
Mulishly she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Not until she’s six.”
“How old is she now?”
She held up four fingers, then pushed her tiniest one down. “This many.”
“Three.”
She nodded, before grinning mischievously and letting the tiny finger pop back up. “Until next week.” She frowned as though trying to determine precisely when that was, perhaps because she’d merely repeated by rote what she’d been told. Then her face became illuminated as if the sun had shifted out from behind dark clouds for the sole purpose of shining upon it. “Do you wanna come to my cel-bration?”
He wasn’t quite certain how to respond to that, especially as he was occupied running months and numbers through his head, calculating the passage of time and the possibility that his not going through with the wedding may have been a far graver affront to Regina than he’d possibly imagined.
Although it seemed the little sprite didn’t need a response. She jumped up and returned to where he’d first seen her. With pencil in hand, she began scribbling on another bit of foolscap. When she was finished, she rushed back to him and held it out proudly. His invitation, he assumed, although it very much resembled the story she’d written. Taking it, he carefully folded and tucked it inside his jacket. “Thank you very much.”
“We’re gonna have cake with strawbries.”
“Do you like strawberries?”
She nodded. “And dogs.”
He grinned. “You seem rather obsessed—”
“Arianna!”
Somewhat guiltily, both he and the child swungtheir heads around to be greeted by Regina trudging toward them like a warrior marching into battle.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, young lady.” The tone was implacable, and he had the absurd notion that he wouldn’t mind her directing it at him, ordering him into her bed, but then he’d always been at her beck and call until he wasn’t. Unfolding his body, he rapidly shoved himself to his feet.
“I wrote a story, Mum.”
At her address, at the implication that tiny word confirmed, his gut tightened and clenched, nearly dropping him to his knees. Regina had a child. He’d suspected but hadn’t truly wanted to believe the reality of it. He’d once dreamed of a future with her that included children.
The lass raced to the woman with the mien of an avenging angel and offered in tribute the original piece of paper she’d shown him. With a soft smile, Regina lowered a hand to the dark curly head. “We’ll read it later, shall we? Now you need to go with Nanny.”
Only then did Knight realize another woman had entered the parlor. Easing forward, the servant curled her fingers over the girl’s slender shoulder and began guiding her toward the doorway. The lass turned and waved at him. “Don’t forget my birthday.”
It took every bit of training he possessed to force out the words without giving away the varied emotions rioting throughout him, causing strange sensations to rampage his entire being. “I won’t.”
Once the girl and her nanny had disappeared into the hallway, Regina turned her attention back to him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Her curt, accusing tone implied she was not at all pleased by his presence. Not that he’d expected her to be, but still reeling from the revelation that she had a child, he felt like everything was coming to him from a great distance through a thick fog. “She read me her story.”
Her features softened slightly. “About a dog, I imagine.”
“Is she mine?” He hadn’t meant to ask so bluntly or abruptly. He’d planned to work his way around to it. But he’d been unable to contain the words when they’d been bombarding him, insisting on being set free.
“Since she apparently shared with you that her birthday is coming, I would think you could do the calculations based upon the last time we were together, which was also a June. I assure you that I didn’t carry her for twelve months.”
“She has blue eyes.”
