Page 128 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

Barnaby nodded once. “And she will retaliate.”

“I know.”

“She will give them her version.”

Leopold’s expression did not change. “I am counting on it.”

Barnaby lowered the letter. “That is an unusual thing to say.”

“She will name Honora.”

Barnaby understood at once. “And your solicitor will name everything she left out.”

“Yes.” Leopold looked at the third letter. “She cannot say anything about Celestine or give the reason why Honora came to Belgrave. The truth does not disappear because she has distorted it.”

Barnaby nodded. “Then let her try.”

Leopold looked at him.

Barnaby’s expression softened. “You know, for a man who spent most of his life avoiding public attention, you have chosen a method of exposure that will make it a remarkably difficult way to do so now.”

Leopold gave him a faint smile. “I have had a difficult month.”

“That is one way of putting it.”

***

Leopold lost track of how long he and Barnaby discussed the letters. After some time, they were collected and resealed, with Barnaby personally volunteering to post them. By the time Leopold returned to the study after seeing his friend out, the sun had risen properly over the grounds.

He stood at the window. Somewhere upstairs, a door opened and closed. For a moment, he wondered whether it was Honora. He hoped it was.

He had tried to give her and Cecily time to rest and recover from their ordeal. But he could not deny that he missed sitting with them in the nursery, just like he had before their harrowing incident. Before I forced them out, he thought with roiling guilt.

He did not know if Honora blamed him, though he certainly blamed himself. But he had decided that until Honora was ready to speak with him, it might be best to give her space, despite his longing to be near her and Cecily.

Leopold was still standing there when Wilfred appeared.

“Your Grace.”

Leopold turned.

“Her Grace wishes to speak with you.”

He knew at once what it was about, and his anger flared again. “Take me to her.”

He followed Wilfred to the drawing room. His mother was seated near the fire, with a long piece of paper laying on a table in front of her. As he drew closer, he saw that it was a birth record. The birth record for Celestine…

Leopold stopped. He looked at the document, then at her.

“You have been reading it.”

“I have.” His mother’s voice was quieter than usual, and her eyes were red, as if she had been crying.

He crossed the room and took the chair opposite her. For a moment, neither spoke.

“What do you intend to do?” she asked at last.

Leopold looked down at the birth record. “What you should have done sooner.” Her eyes lifted. “I intend to acknowledge Celestine publicly.”