Page 14 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

“A baby on the duke’s doorstep,” one of them said.

The other gave a little gasp. “I heard it was found in a basket.”

“That is what I said. Left there all wrapped up. The poor little thing.”

“Is he keeping it?”

“So they say. And if you ask me, it is probably his.”

Honora’s hand stilled on her spoon.

The first woman leaned in. “They say the baby is dark-haired and has gray eyes. And the shawl—”

“The shawl?”

“The shawl had his house emblem on it. Imagine that.”

A hard ache bloomed beneath Honora’s sternum.

The women went on talking, but she heard very little after that. By the time she rose from the table, she knew three things.

Cecily had been brought to Belgrave.

The duke had found her.

And the whole county had already begun to decide what story to tell about it.

Back in her room, Honora set down the candle and stood motionless for a long time.

Then she took out her bag again.

If Cecily was there, she would go there too.

She would claim her niece and leave before anyone asked questions. She would figure out a way to slip into the house and just take Cecily.

That was the plan.

It was a simple plan, foolish perhaps, but simple. She knew how to lift a child, quiet her, hold her when she woke afraid, leave quietly, and lie when she had to.

She told herself that was enough.

She packed that night with hands that had finally begun to shake.

At the bottom of the bag she placed Celestine’s locket once more.

She opened the clasp. Looked at the little painted face. Closed it again.

Then she said softly to the empty room, “I am coming for her.”

There was no one there to answer.

***

The morning was raw and pale when she reached the Belgrave estate gate. By then, she had realized how dangerous her simple plan was. She could try to break into the Belgrave estate. But if she was caught, she would be arrested before she could ever grab Cecily. So, she had come up with one more plan, even simpler than the first. She would merely ask.

The house rose beyond the drive in gray stone and winter light, broad and formal and larger than she had expected. Honora stood outside the iron gate with her heart beating hard enough to hurt.

She had rehearsed what she would say most of the night.