Page 23 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

Honora sat down on the floor with her niece without thinking. The rug was soft beneath her skirt. The nursery fire crackled quietly. The room felt warm in a way the rest of the house had not. Cecily’s weight in her arms was solid and real and somehow almost unbearable in its ordinary comfort.

Honora lowered her head and shut her eyes for a moment. She had planned to leave before dawn. Cecily patted her shoulder with one small hand. Honora pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She could worry about her next move later. Right then, she needed to hold Cecily close. She needed time to feel as though all was right once more.

She did not know how much time had passed when the door opened again a little later. She looked up at once, one arm tightening around Cecily before she could stop herself. His Grace stood in the doorway.

He wore a dark coat and a white shirt, though one cuff was not properly fastened, and his hair looked as though his fingers had passed through it only once. He carried a folded newspaper in one hand, and for a moment, he simply stood there and looked at the room.

Then his gaze found Honora on the floor with Cecily in her arms. His expression became curious and thoughtful. For one absurd moment, she wondered if he had heard her latest thoughts of escaping with Cecily and had come to catch her. He closed the door behind him and came farther in.

Honora looked away first because she had intended to remain composed and had no wish to discover how long that would last if she looked at him too directly.

He was handsome in a way that was most inconvenient to notice. But more irritating was that Cecily, upon seeing him, gave a little eager sound and reached toward him with the hand not buried in Honora’s collar.

Leopold stopped. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, my lord,” Honora said.

He glanced from her to the baby. “She appears to disagree.”

Cecily made another sound, more insistent this time.

Honora’s mouth twitched before she could stop it. “She seems partial to interruptions.”

“That is unfortunate for all of us.”

He crossed the room and sat in the chair opposite them, the newspaper folded against his knee. Honora rose and adjusted Cecily high on her hip and tried to behave normally.

The duke opened the paper and read for a while in silence. Honora looked at him, then away, then back again despite herself. Cecily, however, seemed to want to look at nothing else. She twisted and squirmed, straining to see the duke, who was still engrossed in his paper. It was the first time the girl had acted that way with anyone but her.

Not wanting the child to disturb the duke, Honora took her to the cabinet, searching for a toy. She found a rattle and placed it in the girl’s hand. Cecily stared at it for a minute, shaking it fiercely before throwing it down onto the floor.

She cooed at Honora and patted her mouth, but it only took another second before she was grunting and trying to turn her head in the direction of the duke once more.

Before she could search for another means of occupying the child’s attention, the duke folded the newspaper again and set it beside him. He looked at the two of them not with annoyance, but with amused curiosity.

“Surely, she cannot read already,” he said.

Honora giggled despite the tension knotted in every inch of her body.

“I should think not.”

“If it is not the paper she wants, what has enthralled her so?”

Honora shrugged, slowly moving closer to the duke.

“I suspect we shall not need to wait long to find out,” she said.

His eyes held hers for a moment longer than necessary. Then he stood, opening his mouth as if he wanted to speak, though he hesitated for a moment.

As Honora expected, Cecily turned at once, as if sensing the movement, and stretched one little hand toward him again. The duke paused. Honora held her breath as he approached close enough so that Cecily could catch hold of his finger. She did so at once, staring intently. She frowned at his hand, then at his coat cuff, then poked the leather button with scholarly seriousness.

The duke waited. Honora watched him crouch to Cecily’s level, and her heart beat faster. And when he spoke to her in a voice Honora had not heard him use with anyone, it stopped altogether for a second.

“Is this your assessment?” he murmured, returning the gravity of Cecily’s expression, as if whatever answer she gave him was of grave importance.

Cecily looked up at him, blinking solemnly.

Leopold’s gaze remained steady on her face. “I see. And is it favorable?”