Page 77 of Raising the Duke’s Unexpected Twins

“Oh, would you deliver a message to Cordelia’s family for me?” he asked. “I think they should like to come and assist if they can. Perhaps then, Cordelia can get even more rest if they should like to stay and help.”

Mrs. Wright beamed. “Of course, Your Grace. I will send for your writing implements.”

She went to gather Olivia, and while the young girl hesitated at first, Mrs. Wright expertly found a way to encourage her, and soon they were gone, with Nicholas left on his own to drink tea in the garden and listen to the birdsong.

After a few more sips, however, he got up, pacing, feeling restless while he stared up at the windows on the side of the house. Somewhere up there, his wife was resting, and Tim was resting, and there was nothing he could do about Tim’s illness but wait.

He brushed a hand through his hair and stood, hands on his hips, staring out into the garden. He took a breath. Things looked different in the light of the morning. After he’d begun his work at the gambling den, he’d hardly had enough time to spend at his own home, and his garden had been neglected by him.

However, the gardeners had kept it up nicely, and he remembered how Mrs. Wright had always told him just how much his mother had loved the garden. Once his father passed, Nicholas had made sure to instruct the gardeners to bring it life again, but he hadn’t the courage to spend much time in it himself, feeling as though every corner was haunted by the shadow of his mother, and his guilt for her death would only hang more heavily upon him.

What does Cordelia think about the garden?

He knew she had often sat outside with the children or alone, sometimes scratching away into a notebook. However, they’d never discussed how she felt about it. He suddenly found he was desperate to know her thoughts on the matter, and he hoped that she liked everything about her new home.

Even me.

He took another shaky breath. Utter fool. He knew that she seemed glad to have him there while Tim was sick, that she needed comfort, but after his embarrassing display after their night together and the fact that he was so delayed in reading her urgent notes, he feared there was no hope for him now for her to think him anything other than the rake and rogue he had so intentionally and sometimes unintentionally forced her to believe he was. He was terribly ashamed.

Mrs. Wright had always been kind to him, and he was glad to hear what truth came from her lips, and yet it also felt dangerous to believe it. Turning back to the house to look at Cordelia’s window, he wanted nothing more than to set himself free. Free to love her as she ought to be loved, free to love the children with his whole heart, and yet something still held him back. His father’s voice rang in his head once more.

Useless. Weak. No one will want you, boy. Not even your mother could stay to be with you.

He was glad for the interruption of a footman bringing his writing box. Sitting down, he first wrote a note to Darren, letting him know that he would not be in the gambling den for a little while. He also hurriedly wrote a note to the dowager viscountess and sent it on its way. Glancing once more at the bright, sunny garden, refreshed after a day of rain, he turned back toward the house, not yet ready to linger in the past nor forge ahead into the future.

A few hours later, the viscountess along with Emma and Danae arrived, practically rushing in through the sitting room door when the footman opened it.

Nicholas was playing with Olivia on the floor, which had been scrubbed clean, and was enjoying herself greatly. They’d just seen how Tim was faring, and the twins had burst into tears again at the sight of each other. But soon enough, once playing again, Olivia’s smile had return. Turning, they saw a bright-faced viscountess looking at them with surprise at where they sat on the floor.

“My lady,” Nicholas said, rising, surprised at the little color he could feel coming to his cheeks. “Thank you for coming.”

“Forgive us. We were not at home when the message first arrived,” she explained, a little furrow between her blonde brows. “Or else we would have come as soon as we could.”

“But we are here now. What can we do?” Emma asked.

Danae peeked around her mother and, with a bright smile, she walked toward Olivia, who seemed delighted to see her.

“Well,” Nicholas began, unsure himself why he had called upon them, and he realized right then and there that it was the first time in a long, long time that he asked for help. Normally, he might have felt some shame, but seeing them there looking at him expectantly and with kindness, he just felt relieved. “You will find us at sixes and sevens. Tim is upstairs feverish, and we have a new nanny, but Cordelia is attempting to do everything herself. She was persuaded to sleep, at least for a little while, and I am here with Olivia.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I think…I would like some help.”

At that very moment, a child's cry came from upstairs, and Olivia looked up from where she played. It had been like that off and on for the whole of the day.

He sighed, and the viscountess smiled, reaching out to touch his arm. “We are so very glad to help you. For you are family now, Your Grace. I am very experienced with running a household when sick children are about! Come Emma. Danae, you stay with Olivia. We shall go to the sickroom and relieve the nanny or find a rebellious Cordelia overtaxing herself. Your Grace, you may take your rest as well, if you like.”

He shook his head. “I will stay here with Olivia. But I will ask for Mrs. Wright to set a few more plates at dinner.”

They all left the room but for Danae and Olivia, and when they parted ways at the stairs, he said to the viscountess and Emma. “You may call me Nicholas, Lady Valeton. As you said, we are family now.”

She beamed at him. “Then, you shall call me Fiona. Come, Emma. We have that sister of yours to tame.” Together, the two ladies rushed up the steps, and Nicholas’s gaze followed after them, feeling now, as though everything was going to be all right.

CHAPTER 26

Cordelia rose from her bed, having slept in a fresh gown after being practically forced to bathe by Anna and Mrs. Wright. She sat on the edge of her bed, her mind instantly turning to Tim. Was he well? And what time was it?

When a cry burst forth, she jumped out of bed and grabbed the bedpost to steady herself. She had rushed too quickly and sat back down again, feeling dizzy. She looked at the tray of tea Anna had brought for her, hardly touched, but she had at least gotten some of it down before falling into a deep sleep.

At least the sleep had done a little to take the edge off her fatigue and worry, but she still felt an ache in her belly and in her chest. Tim was ill, and there was nothing she could do about it but wait. Olivia too could succumb to the illness, and then she could perhaps lose both of them. That prospect horrified her beyond words.

Helen and David trusted us with the children. We must keep them safe. They cannot leave me. They cannot leave us.