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She put down her teacup. “Tony could have done with your support.”

“Looks like he did well enough without me. He had all of you in any case.”

She put down her teacup with such force that some splashed over the edge into the saucer. “That is not the point.”

He sighed and shook out his paper. He was not in the mood to argue with his sister over something he could not undo.

“Lucinda will have to stay a few days until she is recovered enough to leave,” Rose informed him.

“I thought that might be the case. As long as you have informed the staff they are staying.”

“We have,” Marianne replied. “Will you see him and give him your blessing?”

“Blessing? I didn’t with the others, so I hardly think it will be necessary.”

“I thought it was mandatory for the head of the family.” Rose looked at him expectantly.

“Only if one wants to bestow a courtesy title, and I do not.”

Marianne chimed in, “He is cute as a button, is he not, Mama? He looks like he may be blond, but I thought I saw some red in there too.”

Edward did not care what hair color the child had. He knew what they were doing, and he was not taking the bait. Trying to make him feel bad or regret his decisions from eight years ago was not going to be undone by seeing Tony’s son. The heavy burden of that time never left him.

All social engagements were canceled that night, although he could not be sure why. It was not as though their going out would make any difference to Lucinda, Tony, or the baby. When Lucinda refused to put the baby in the nursery, which was farther away from the family’s rooms, they all had to endure the baby’s cries at night.

He spent his nights in his study, as far away from Tony’s room as possible. He threw himself into his work, but every time he heard the baby, he paused. Was he all right? Then little William would quiet down, and Edward would breathe again. When would this torture end?

There was a knock at the door, and he wished it was Rose while also hoping it was not. It was not. The butler took two steps into the room.

“Lord Dunstan is here, Your Grace. He would like a word before he takes Lady Marianne out to promenade.”

“Very well, send him in.”

“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” Dunstan said with a bow.

Edward stood as the man entered. “Dunstan. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I thought you might like to know what I heard today.”

Edward pointed towards the chair opposite his desk, and Dunstan sat.

“What did you hear?”

“Actually, I did not hear it directly, but I put out that I was interested in investing in the fishing grounds in Oregon. It has come back to me that the Americans have a plan to show our delegates an altered map of the lakes there. It could mean an altered map may be presented on the border issue as well. I suggest we make sure we have our own maps present when the discussions happen, so we can discuss any changes in the map. Of course, this could be just rumor, but I would not be surprised if they would pay for our plans for that area before the Convention even starts. It would give them an advantage to know what we want.”

“Good work. I will contact Goulburn and make him aware.” He took out a new sheet of vellum. “Did your source tell you the name of the man who told him this?”

“He would not disclose, of course, but if Tony’s men could shadow him, he may lead us straight to the mole.”

“Thank you. I will speak to him.”

“I hear congratulations are in order. Marianne told me when I arrived.”

“Ah, yes, thank you.” Promptly changing the subject, he asked, “Is Rose going with you on your promenade?”

“I believe so. Would you like to join us?”

“No!” He motioned towards the piles on his desk. “I have far too much to do,” he said.