Page 14 of The Duchess’ Little Miracle

Without waiting for him to dismiss her, Seraphina curtsied and turned on her heel to march out of the study, the door closing behind her as she finally let out the long, shaky breath she had been holding.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Iam with child,” Euphemia repeated, her lips parting into a helpless grin.

For a single second, the morning room at the Duke of Montgomery’s estate fell entirely still. Then, as if a dam had burst, the quiet room shattered into a glorious chaos of giggles, shouts, and ecstatic laughter. Leonora leaped from her chair, and Seraphina forced her own body to follow, descending upon their sister with all the joy she could summon.

“Oh, my goodness! You are going to have a child!” Leonora cried, her entire frame practically vibrating with excitement as she threw her arms around Euphemia’s neck. “I’m going to be an aunt!”

Euphemia laughed, burying her face in Leonora’s shoulder, her chest heaving with a happiness so rapid and dense it looked almost suffocating. As Seraphina wrapped her arms around them both, her chin resting against Euphemia’s soft hair, her mind did what it always did. It detached. It observed.

She looked at the way Euphemia sank back into the cushions of the sofa once the initial shouting subsided, her hand instinctively descending to rest over the gentle, barely noticeable curve of her abdomen. It was a protective, involuntary reflex. Seraphina had read about it. Euphemia’s fingers curved slightly, molding to the shape of her abdomen as if she could already shield the microscopic cluster of cellular life multiplying inside her.

“I am too excited for words,” Euphemia admitted, her voice dropping to a breathless whisper. “But honestly, I am not nearly as excited as the twins. Ever since we told them, it has been an absolute whirlwind. Every single moment, Georgianna and Cordelia find a way to remind me that a baby is coming.” She let out a soft laugh, her eyes shining. “They keep coming into the room just to touch my abdomen, feeling for any movement, and they play with me constantly. It has been a lot to take in.”

Seraphina watched her face closely, cataloging the subtle shifts. The dilation of her pupils, the steady, warm flush of her cheeks. It was the physical manifestation of maternal instinct.

To Seraphina, it was a completely foreign specimen.

Neither Euphemia, Leonora, nor Seraphina had ever actually experienced the love of a mother. Their upbringing had been a stark, transactional affair. Lady Byron, the woman who raised them, was many things... brilliant, strategic, and an invaluable ally who had actively encouraged Seraphina’s political writing from the very beginning, but she was never motherly. She had taught them how to survive, how to think, and how to navigate the treacherous waters of society with their wits intact, but she had never held them with that fierce, unconditional tenderness.

She had never looked at them the way Euphemia was currently looking at an unborn child.

So, how did Euphemia learn that gaze? Did it come naturally when one loved a child?

If Seraphina wanted to help Alice... the quiet, traumatized little girl currently sitting in the nursery of the Norwyn estate, she knew she had to decode this phenomenon. It had been an entire week since she last visited Alice, an agonizing seven days of reflecting on how she had utterly failed to reach her, ultimately boring her into a state of unconsciousness. She would be going back to Mayfair soon, and she could not afford another disaster.

‘Perhaps the childish approach failed because it was artificial’, Seraphina reasoned, analyzing Euphemia’s behavior. ‘Maternal conduct is not merely high-pitched vocalization or hollow cheerfulness. It is an emotional gravity. It is the establishing of a safe, predictable orbit where the child is the center of mass.’

If she wanted to help Alice lower her hyper-vigilant defenses, she would have to simulate this motherly state. She would have to study Euphemia’s empathy, break it down into its core components, and replicate it with practical precision.

“What of your fierce, terrifying duke?” Leonora asked, her snapping Seraphina out of her calculations. “How is he handling the news?”

Euphemia’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of crimson. “Nathaniel has been completely spoiling me. I am practically forbidden from doing anything at all. Every single morning, he is there, and in truth... we have been sleeping in the same bedchamber for almost a year now. He refuses to let me leave his side for long.” She looked between Leonora and Seraphina, her expression turning intensely earnest, almost evangelistic. “Oh, I hate to tell you both that I was right, but... I was definitely right. There is love in this world, and it is within our reach. I want you both to know that. Love is the most magnificent, transformative feeling. It is having a partner who listens to your thoughts, who cherishes your flaws, who shields you from the world...”

“All right, all right, all right!” Leonora interrupted with a loud laugh, throwing her hands up in absolute surrender. “Stop selling the idea to us so fiercely! You are simply trying to make us terribly jealous at this point!”

Seraphina forced a smile to remain on her face, but internally, the weight of her own secret was pressing heavily against her chest. She had made Leonora swear she would not mention anything about the Duke of Norwyn to Euphemia so they did not worry her, but Leonora revealed that she could not keep the column a secret. She had to pick one because she needed to tell Euphemia something.

“I’m so in love!” Euphemia beamed.

The contrast between Euphemia’s pristine, romantic reality and the absolute chaos of her own life was staggering. Euphemia was floating on the peak of human happiness, completely oblivious to the fact that the very foundation of their family’s past survival was currently teetering on the edge of total ruin.

“In truth,” Euphemia began again, her eyes flashing with scandalous mischief as she leaned forward. “We were wrong as to what the term ‘making love’ really means.”

Leonora leaned in instantly, her eyebrows arching high. “What did you find out, Euphemia?”

“Oh, that is something else completely. I shall have to explain it to you both properly so you can be prepared,” Euphemia said, waving a hand through the air. “In fact, we might very well need writing materials so I can map it all out for you.”

But as the playful words left her mouth, her voice began to dwindle. Euphemia’s gaze shifted entirely, bypassing Leonora and landing squarely on Seraphina. The joy vanished from her face, replaced by concern. She had noticed her sister’s silence.

“Seraphina, what is the matter? What is wrong?” Euphemia asked softly.

Before Seraphina could formulate a calculated lie, Leonora chimed in. “She is in trouble, Euphemia. That is the other reason we came to visit you today. There is trouble brewing, Effie, but we will not truly know the depth of it until Seraphina goes to visit with Lady Byron first. Apparently, she needs to see her before anything else, and when she returns, she will tell us exactly what has happened.”

Seraphina kept her face perfectly smooth, but a cold prickle of determination flared within her. Leonora honestly believed they were going back to the countryside to seek Lady Byron’s counsel. She truly thought they would run to their guardian for protection. But Seraphina was entirely determined that they would do no such thing. Lady Byron had given them the tools to be independent, and Seraphina refused to crawl back to her like a defeated child the moment a shadow fell over her work. The threat was hers to handle. She would deal with the blackmailer in London, under her own terms, with the Duke of Norwyn’s assistance.

But she could not say that here. She could not risk fracturing Euphemia’s peace, especially not now, with a child on the way.