Page 134 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

Forever and always your sister,

Honora

She read it through once, folded it carefully, and set it on the table rather than tucking it into the lining of her bag with the others. If Leopold wanted to read it, he could. There was no need to keep her sister a secret any longer. In fact, perhaps it was time that he read for himself how dear Celestine was to her, so he could truly understand why she had lied to him.

***

Cecily awoke that evening with a series of short coughs. Honora took her from the crib and soothed her gently against her chest. The child rubbed her eyes and grunted softly, coughing only three times as she did so.

“Are you hungry, darling?” Honora asked, brushing the child’s hair off her clammy forehead.

The baby chewed on her fist, but offered no other reply as her head lolled back onto Honora’s neck, as though she had figured out that vocalization made her cough again.

Honora took the broth and soft, fresh bread that was brought to the nursery moments after Cecily woke up and fed the child slowly, pausing when she started coughing and offering water to soothe what Honora was sure must be an irritated throat.

When Cecily began waving the food away with a weak fist and rubbing her eyes with the other, Honora gave her more of her medicine and then rocked her to sleep. Cecily fell asleep again within minutes, and Honora hoped that with a full belly and the aid of her medicine, the child would sleep more peacefully than she had the previous night. Honora, however, was far too wakeful to try to sleep. She tucked the baby into her crib and slipped from the room, leaving the door cracked so she could hear Cecily if she woke up distressed or coughing.

She had not planned on speaking to anyone when she went downstairs. She only meant to wander and allow her thoughts to settle and try to understand everything she had learned in the previous days.

But when she passed by the drawing room door and saw the dowager duchess sitting inside, staring at the wall with a resigned expression that was so unlike her usual cold composure, she paused. The dowager did not look as though she had moved in some time. On impulse, Honora decided to step inside the room.

The dowager looked up. Her eyes were red at the rims, and she made no attempt to hide it, which was both disconcerting and relieving to Honora. She did not look like she wanted to harshly dismiss Honora. She looked very much like she needed to talk.

For a moment, neither woman spoke. Honora thought of everything she might say, and none of it seemed adequate, so she said something that surprised her.

“I have questions about Celestine.”

The dowager’s expression did not change, but her posture eased, as though she had been waiting for that precise moment. “I suspect that you do.”

Her voice was soft but raspy, confirming that she had been crying.

“I would like honest answers,” Honora said, her voice softening at the vulnerability in the dowager’s demeanor. “Whatever they are.”

She meant it, and the silence that followed frightened her a little. There would be no unhearing whatever came next.

The dowager held her gaze for a moment, but she did not look angry or defensive. She only looked tired, and more than a little wistful.

“Of course,” she said. “Please. Come sit down.”

Chapter 27

Leopold found Wilfred in the corridor before breakfast. The butler was carrying a stack linens toward the rear of the house when Leopold stepped aside to let him pass, then changed his mind and called after him instead.

“Wilfred.”

“Your Grace?” The butler stopped and turned to face him.

“How long have you been at Belgrave?”

“Thirty-one years, Your Grace.” Wilfred looked mildly surprised by the question, though he answered without hesitation.

“Were you here the night Celestine was born?” Leopold studied him for a long moment before he asked it.

Wilfred’s composure slipped for the first time since Leopold had known him. It was not much, only a slight clenching of his hands around the linens and a lowering of his gaze before he looked back up.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Leopold had spent the last several weeks uncovering pieces of a history that everyone else in the house seemed to have known for decades. Now, at last, he had the chance to ask someone who had actually been present for it.