Page 80 of A Mother for the Blind Duke’s Orphans

The elderly woman nodded politely before heading toward the cot. Hector was quiet, and Poppy was nervous to look his way. At first glance, the room might look ordinary, especially in the dim light.

When Poppy first saw it, she thought it was too large for a little girl, and the air held a faint, unfamiliar trace of luxury that Aurora and Princess were not used to. She knew that Aurora was too afraid to even play on the Persian carpeted floors. Her large bed stood with its coverlet barely disturbed, and its pillows were arranged with an order no child respected for long. A casual observer might have thought the room fit for the duke’s nieces, except for one little obstruction.

Poppy finally found the courage to look back at him, and she knew from his expression that he had spotted the material contraption.

“Well…” Hector began, but Aurora emerged from within the blankets and pillows.

Aurora’s eyes darted to Poppy, then to Hector, and back. Poppy gave her a small nod of approval. Aurora swallowed, then pointed nervously toward the fortress.

It was made of pillows and blankets, which were draped over chair backs and secured to the corners of the bedposts. Mrs. Patterson and the staff found as many pillows as possible and formed a lopsided wall with a low opening left at the front, like the mouth of a cave. Within the dimness there were books, toys, and all the small treasures Aurora believed would save her and her sister from the world.

Hector did not speak, and Poppy watched him too closely. She noticed how the line of his shoulders tensed, and his fingers clenched and released on the handle of his cane. He gave so little away that every restraint began to seem like judgment.

Aurora took one step toward the entrance of her fortress, then stopped. Her eyes were wide with wonder.

Poppy lowered her voice. “Aurora, darling, perhaps you might be a good hostess and show your uncle what you have made.”

Aurora’s courage wavered. “H—he m…m…may not fit.”

That, unexpectedly, earned a low, grumbling laugh from Hector.

“I have been told that before,” he said gently.

Poppy looked at him and adored his efforts. He had been trying so hard, and it was working out for him with the girls and her. She was starting to learn more about her husband and thinking more about him too. The thought felt intimate and made her blush even more.

Aurora considered him solemnly. “Y…y…you are v—very tall.”

He gave her a coy smile. “It is a lifelong inconvenience.”

“B…but …you can come in if you crawl.” Poppy expected him to refuse.

A refusal would only have been reasonable since the Duke of Sterling did not belong on his hands and knees at the entrance of a blanket fortress, his cane awkward at his side and his dignity imperiled by nursery pillows.

Instead, he asked, “May I bring my cane?”

Aurora looked at his cane, then back up at him with the biggest and most expectant smile. “Into the fortress?”

“Yes, but only if you allow it.”

Aurora hesitated, then nodded. “A…all right, f…f…follow me.”

Poppy glanced at Princess in the cot one last time and tucked a pillow safely near her side before she crouched at the entrance to help lift one of the lower blankets. Aurora ducked inside with the solemnity of a cathedral guide, and Hector followed after more slowly.

He angled his shoulders, folded his long body down, and kept one hand on the cane while the other found the edge of a pillow wall. Poppy saw his jaw tighten when his knee pressed into the floor. She saw, too, how carefully he avoided disturbing the structure, and that gentleness caught her off guard.

“Are you coming as well?” he asked before he entered.

She snapped out of her thoughts. “Yes.”

Poppy ran forward and kneeled beside him; their arms touched briefly and left a warm imprint. Hector gave her some space to enter first and then followed after her. She figured that he needed the guidance as the light was dim inside. The fortress smelled faintly of wool, warmed fabric, and the papery dust of books. The filtered light made it feel safe and cozy. Poppy settled beside Aurora as they waited for Hector.

“T…T…This,” Aurora said when he finally arrived and sat heavily next to Poppy, “is where the b…books are.”

Hector turned his head toward the pile she indicated. “That is an impressive library.”

“It only has s…six books.” She pouted.

“Ah, we would have to fix that.” Hector rubbed his chin as if he were deep in thought.