“Something like that.” Luke chuckled, then sobered. “My mother told Serenity I didn’t love her anymore, and then she sent her away. I never knew that she was going to have a baby, and I never saw her again until the day after your Aunt Anne died.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened as he obviously realized where the conversation was going.
“When Serenity had her baby, my mother and my stepbrother Roger took the baby away and told Serenity that he died. She has been very sad all these years, thinking that her baby did not survive.”
“Am I that baby?” Gabriel asked, his voice trembling. “Are you my father?”
“Yes,” Luke breathed. “I am. And when I found out that Roger had taken my child to Lady Hawley’s, I began dressing up as Prometheus and going out to speak to the people who ran that place. I would not rest until I found out what happened to you. So, imagine my surprise when I found out that you had been right under my nose all along.”
Gabriel’s large blue eyes filled with tears, and he suddenly hugged Luke back, pressing his little face against Luke’s neck. “I am so glad,” he whispered. “I love Vanessa and Adrian, but I wanted so much to know where I really came from.”
The boy’s easy acceptance of his change in circumstances healed something deep inside of Luke. He held his son tight, feeling so blessed. “I’m so sorry that we weren’t there for you, son. We would have been if we had known. And now I want to make it up to you. You can still see Vanessa and Adrian whenever you want, but will you come home with me? Will you give me a chance to be the father I always wanted to be?”
Gabriel pulled back and nodded solemnly. “You and me and my mother... We can be a family?”
“Yes,” Luke breathed, hoping Serenity would give him the chance to make this first promise true. “Let’s go get your mother and tell her the good news.”
* * *
MORGAN KNOCKED ON BROOKHAVEN’Sdoor, his heart thundering in his chest. He’d put this off for far too long, yet he still didn’t feel ready.
All too soon, the door opened, and a lovely redhead stood staring at him, her face puckering in surprise and then displeasure. “Morgan Strathmore, I presume?”
He nodded stiffly. “I’ve come for my daughter... Felicity.”
“It’s about time,” she said, her voice heavy with censure. “I’m Fiona Bohannan. Please, come in.” So, this was the headmistress that Adrian had told him so much about. Strange... he’d had a very different image in his head. He’d expected her to be older. Not so... redheaded.
Entering the house, he found to his relief that it had a homey, happy feel to it. The woodwork in the wide foyer gleamed and the whole place smelled fresh and clean.
“Right this way,” Mrs. Bohannan said, leading him up a sturdy staircase to the second floor. At the end of the hall, she stopped before a closed door and turned to him. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Felicity is doing fine here with me.”
He flushed, guilt and anger overwhelming him. “I know that I’ve been...” He shook his head, not sure what he was even going to say. Was there a word even bad enough for a man who’d abandoned his own daughter when she needed him the most?
She frowned, her manner suddenly gentling. “Why don’t you come meet her?”
Pushing open the door, she led him to a crib in the corner, where a tiny baby slept peacefully. Morgan stared down at her, his chest seizing with pain and love. “She looks just like Anne,” he whispered. “God, she’s so beautiful.”
“She’s a good baby,” Mrs. Bohannan said fiercely, proving that Luke had been right to take Felicity here. “She hardly ever cries. We’ve hired a wet nurse, and we take turns holding her when she’s awake. I was just on my way up here when you knocked.”
He cleared his throat, blinking away the sting of tears, and met her sharp gaze. “Thank you for all you’ve done. I hope you know... I didn’t leave her here because I didn’t love her. If anything... I love hertoomuch. And my grief... it’s been a monstrous thing. All consuming. I didn’t want her to see me like that.”
“You must have loved her mother very much,” she said, his words seeming to banish some of her anger.
“I do...did, I mean,” he answered truthfully.
“Do is just fine,” she said softly. “Anne was lucky to have you, and little Felicity here is too.”
He bowed his head, feeling he didn’t deserve her forgiveness. “Can I hold her?”
“Of course,” she answered, scooping the little girl up and depositing her in his arms.
The tears he’d been struggling to contain suddenly escaped him, along with a choked sob as he cradled his daughter to his chest and she blinked up at him for the very first time.
“Felicity,” he whispered, and for the first time since Anne had died, a little bit of hope flared within him.
