Page 54 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

She looked down at her muddy skirt again and then back up.

“Thank you.”

Leopold gave a small nod as if thanks were unnecessary but accepted. “Go before you catch cold.”

Honora did not argue. She climbed carefully back up the bank, her hem heavy with mud, and went at once to the house. By the time she had changed into a dry dress and pinned her hair up again, her hands had stopped trembling.

She went to the window of her room before returning downstairs. From there, she could see the rear gardens and the stream beyond the trees.

Leopold was still there with Cecily on his hip, walking slowly along the path while the baby reached for his collar and then settled again, content to be carried. The sight of them together gave Honora an unexpected, deep tenderness. It came so suddenly that she had to put one hand to the window frame.

Leopold stopped once to shift the child higher and then went on. Cecily’s head was tucked against his shoulder. Honora watched them for a long moment.

She did not know if her fondness for the duke was because she cared for him or because she loved that he seemed so doting to Cecily, who was her entire world. She only knew the feeling in her chest was almost too much. When she finally looked away, she was breathing more carefully than before.

***

That evening, after Cecily was put to bed, Honora went downstairs to the kitchen. Martha was there already, sleeves rolled up, a cloth over one shoulder and a pot on the stove. She looked up as Honora entered, rubbed her hands together, and said nothing at first. Then, she poured a second cup of tea without asking and set it down across from the chair nearest the table.

Honora sat. The kitchen felt warmer than the rest of the house, the fire lower, the work for the evening mostly done, and the light was soft enough to make the room feel private.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Martha took a seat with her own cup and stared into it for a moment before speaking.

“You look as though you were nearly drowned,” she said at last, having no doubt heard about the unfortunate near-accident from a gossiping servant.

“I was not,” Honora said defensively, despite the cook’s light tone.

Martha raised one brow. “That is clear, since you sit before me. I said nearly.”

Honora laughed softly. “The bank was wetter than it looked.”

“Hmm.”

Honora wrapped both hands around her cup. “His Grace caught me.”

Martha’s mouth twitched. “He was walking with you?”

Honora shook her head firmly.

“Nothing so improper. He was apparently walking nearby and saw Cecily and me slip in the mud by the bank.”

Martha studied her with a half-unconvinced gaze.

“What luck.”

Honora ignored the doubt as she stared at her own teacup.

“He took Cecily first.”

“That sounds like him.”

Honora looked up. “How do you mean?”

Martha shrugged one shoulder. “He is protective of those who cannot protect themselves.”

Honora nodded. The duke had surprised her many times since she arrived, disproving every assumption she had of higher nobility. She was not stunned to learn that he could be protective.

“He seems like he can be very kind,” she said cautiously.