Page 79 of An Orphan for the Broken Duke

Rhys exhaled with such relief that he felt it like a weight falling from his shoulders. It was such a small thing, but that single gesture was enough to tell him that Lucy did not hate him. Better still, she knew him, as she knew who he was and what he meant to her.

Maybe I do have a chance, after all?

Rhys smiled as he leaned into the cot and scooped Lucy into his arms. Her little arms went around his neck, and he held her close to his body.

“Woah, you have gotten big,” he chuckled as he clutched her to his chest. “You might be able to carry me soon.”

Lucy giggled at the joke, or at least the tone of it.

“Come on then…” He turned and they started from the room together. “Let us get you fed.”

It was just as they reached the doorway that the sun spread its warmth across the entire room. Rhys felt it on his skin, and it seemed to infuse him with energy and hope that he sorely needed.

This was one small step. He was not such a fool to believe that things would be easy from now on. But that Lucy was at least willing to give him a chance… it is one that I will not ruin.

Rhys would be a father to her. And not because he had to be one, but because he wanted to be. She was his daughter, her life was in his hands, and he would not ruin her life as he had ruined so many others.

Twenty-Nine

Rhys sat on a chair by the window in the morning room; he was positioned so the mid-morning rays spread across his body in a way that was warm and comfortable. Also, its light made it easier for him to see the book that he read from.

Sitting at his feet was Lucy.

She had her toy horse clutched in her hands, as it was a favorite of hers and rarely did she go anywhere without it. But she did not sit on the floor because she was trying to avoid Rhys, rather, it was because she had seen something on the floor a moment ago that had caught her eye.

He had laughed as she waddled across the room, her focus set on whatever it was that she spotted. And he laughed further when she reached that wayward item, only to find out that it was nothing more than the sun’s reflection on the wooden floor.

She pouted in realization and looked at Rhys as if he might do something.

“Come on…” He waved her over. “Do you want me to finish the story?”

Her smile grew wide and she hurried back. When she reached his feet, she fell onto her bottom and giggled. Rhys thought to leave her there, but there was a throbbing on his right thigh where she had just been sitting, a sense that he was missing something.

“Do you want to come up?” he asked her.

She smiled further and lifted her arms for him. He smiled back, leaned forward, and scooped her onto his lap. There, she snuggled into him, getting comfortable. Then, she started to paw at the book he was holding.

“Are you reading or am I?” he laughed.

“You!” she said. “Start.”

Rhys smiled at the top of her head. Who would have thought that such joy could be found in something so simple as this? He had work to do. He had business meetings he needed to organize and attend. There were matters of the estate that could not continue until he ran his eyes over them. And yet…

All Rhys wanted to do at that moment was sit with Lucy, his daughter, and read to her.

It had been this way most of the week. Or rather, most of the week had been a slow and careful journey that ended with a moment that now felt natural and right, even if it had not always been that way.

Rhys had been careful that week not to force things. He did not want to pressure Lucy into spending time with him, but wanted her to want it. It started with breakfast on that first morning. That was followed by time spent in the nursery as she played with her toys. More than once she asked about Violet, and more than once she threatened to burst into tears.

But Rhys did not retreat. He did not give up. And he did not find himself questioning if he had what it took to do this. He committed, was what he did, determined to be there for Lucy no matter what.

Lucy was only three, but he believed that she understood what he was doing, as she recognized what it meant. She missed Violet, of that there was no doubt. But she must have known that Rhys was important to her.

The days wound on and each one saw them grow closer together to a point where Lucy was no longer his adopted child but his true daughter. He found that he not only cared about her but loved her. What was more, he was not doing it because it made him feel better. He did it because Lucy needed him to.

Is that what love is? Is this what I have been missing?

“Now, where were we…” Rhys turned his attention back to the book; it was a collection of children’s stories that he knew Lucy adored.