Page 104 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

“Yes.”

“And the Bellamy family.”

“Yes.”

“The child.”

“Yes.”

Leopold shook his head slowly. Everything she said seemed built on facts. Facts that were arranged into a story. He did not know where one ended and the other began. He was also not convinced that the facts added up to the story Isolde was telling. Something still did not seem right to him. His mother’s odd silence did little to ease that feeling.

Isolde reached for his hand and then stopped before touching him. “I am sorry.”

He looked at her.

“I only investigated because I care about you,” she said, “and I could not stand by while someone used you this way.”

Leopold’s expression hardened.

Isolde lowered her hand. “I know you wanted to believe the best of her.”

Leopold said nothing.

“She counted on that.”

The words were quiet, almost gentle. They hurt anyway.

Isolde stepped back. “I would never have said anything if I did not believe you needed to know.”

Leopold’s gaze went once more to his mother. His mother remained silent, her face still. She did not look at him. He knew, suddenly, that if he asked her whether Isolde was telling the truth, she would not tell him the truth. If what she said was a lie, she would never admit it.

Leopold turned toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“The nursery.”

Isolde’s expression changed, and she almost looked startled and worried. “Leopold.”

He did not answer, only left the room.

The corridors were dark. Most of the household had gone to bed. The lamps burned low, leaving long shadows along the walls. Leopold walked toward the nursery, unsure what he expected to find. He only knew he needed to see her, needed to hear her answer, needed to know whether he had been a fool. The nursery door was slightly open. He pushed it wider.

Phoebe sat beside the crib, Cecily in her arms. She was singing softly, a lullaby, her voice quiet, warm, and unguarded, the same voice he had heard once before in the corridor.

The sound stopped him before he entered. He remained in the doorway and listened. Cecily’s eyes were closing. Honora stroked her back and continued singing. Leopold felt something twist in his chest. Then he thought of the name.

Honora Bellamy.

He stepped inside. The nursemaid did not see him right away. She focused entirely on the baby, an expression of pure contentment on her face.

There was nothing smug or sinister, nothing that indicated her thoughts were occupied with schemes or deception. In fact, the innocence in the gentle smile she was giving the child did not appear capable of any malice at all. It was a foolish thought, he was sure. But it made him less confident in what Isolde had told him.

At last, he made a decision. He positioned himself so that the nursemaid would have to turn to see him before he spoke.

“Honora,” he said, his heart pounding as he prayed that she would not react. But his heart fell when she turned to look at him. For a brief second, her expression was the same as when he had called her Miss Redmond, as if she was simply answering to her name. But another second later, she seemed to realize what she had done. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to find words to recover the moment.

“Your Grace, I came to talk to you this morning…”