Page 35 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

“Does everyone here speak in riddles?”

“Only when the plain truth would cause trouble.”

That did not comfort Honora. It made the house feel suddenly crowded with secrets, hers only one among many.

“What happened? With the servants just leaving that way, I mean.”

Martha’s expression closed with finality. “People leave when a house stops feeling like it has a future.”

The words alone were innocuous enough, yet Martha said them as if there was poisonous meaning behind them. Something told Honora that there was some real trouble with the duke and his family, and Martha did not seem to trust her enough to tell her exactly what.

Before she could ask more, Mrs. Pritchard appeared in the doorway.

“Miss Redmond,” she said. “His Grace asks to see you in the study after breakfast tomorrow.”

Martha did not move, but her face became closed off, as if she suddenly did not want anyone to read her. Honora set down her cup carefully.

The study, she thought. After breakfast tomorrow. Not tonight. Just soon enough to make sleep difficult.

Martha rose and gave her a long, knowing look.

“Rest tonight,” she said. “You do not want to go in to speak with His Grace looking as though you have not slept in months.”

Honora nodded, silently leaving the kitchen and heading down the corridors. She went back to her room after that and shut the door behind her.

Her bag was still packed by the bed. She stood and stared at it for a long time. Leaving would be easiest before the house had a chance to expose her secret. She put one hand on the door handle. Then, she crossed to the bag, picked it up, and slid it under the bed.

Chapter 7

Leopold met Miss Redmond in the study after breakfast, exactly as he had said he would. He had not intended to make it a formal summons. He had simply told Mrs. Pritchard to ask her to send for her before she became too busy for the day and had expected, at most, a few minutes of practical discussion about Cecily’s feeding and sleep.

He was at the desk when Miss Redmond was shown in. Barnaby had not yet arrived, the fire was low, and the morning papers lay folded at the edge of the blotter where they waited for him to read them again.

Miss Redmond stepped into the room with the same quiet composure she seemed to wear as naturally as her gloves. But he noticed that she looked rather tired, and he wondered if Cecily was struggling to sleep.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” she said.

“Good morning.”

She waited.

Leopold gestured to the chair opposite his desk, but she did not sit at once. She remained standing with her hands lightly folded, attentive and still. It was the sort of stillness that suggested either discipline or exhaustion. Or perhaps it was both.

“How is she?” he asked.

Miss Redmond’s face brightened.

“Cecily is well, Your Grace.”

He watched her closely. “Eating?”

“Yes.”

“Enough?”

She paused, and he thought she was trying not to smile. “More than enough, to be sure.”

Leopold looked at her. “You hesitate to say it.”