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“All my friends are married now. And we only have one maid for my mother, Emma, and me.”

He closed his eyes, but she noticed the way his fists clenched and unclenched as if fighting with his anger. “Why didn’t you marry Blakely two years ago when he proposed?”

She rose and paced the length of the room from the fireplace to her empty chair. “I don’t know...yes, I do. I just couldn’t...I mean, how could I? He was a lovely man. I should have been able to...but I couldn’t. Could you imagine me with him? It just—”

“Louisa, you are babbling.”

She stopped in the middle of the room and placed her hands on her hips, breathing hard. “He talked more about his damn horses than any other topic.”

He cast her a ghost of a smile. “The man does love his horses.”

She returned to her seat with a sigh. “I’m a spinster, Harry. Once Emma marries, it will be Mamma and me, living in the house slowly driving each other mad. I cannot live that way. I must marry.”

“You have a major flaw in your plan.”

Considering her lack of thoroughness, it was entirely possible.

“How exactly am I supposed to help you? My father was instrumental in the ruination of your family’s name.”

His hands continued to tighten into fists. Perhaps it wasn’t just anger causing his emotional distress, she thought. Irritation. Her being here had brought back all the memories of the evils his father had wrought. Why would he wish to help her?

“I want you to find me a husband. Foolish of me, I know.”

Harry looked up at the ceiling. “I am sorry, Louisa. But you ask too much of our past friendship.”

Past friendship?

Now they couldn’t even be friends? Her heart ached with sadness.

Of course, he was a duke and didn’t want to help a plain woman, whose family reputation was questionable at best, find a husband. And being a duke, he certainly couldn’t maintain a friendship with her. She rose and commenced pacing again, only so he wouldn’t detect how her eyes welled with tears.

She’d been so wrong about coming here and asking him for assistance. Leaving seemed her only recourse now, but she was stuck until the snow was packed down enough for the coaches to get through again.

“Louisa—”

A slight rap on the door sounded. “What is it?”

“Your Grace,” Jenkins said as he opened the door. “I am sorry to intrude, but Lady Charlotte insists you join her for tea.”

Lady Charlotte? Who the devil was Lady Charlotte?

“Of course, we have finished here anyway,” Harry responded with a glance at her. “Excuse me, Miss Drake.”

Before she could get a word out of her speechless mouth, he strode from the room. Had Harry remarried? If so, why hadn’t his wife joined them for supper last night? Louisa stood and then followed Jenkins out of the room.

“Jenkins, where is Lady Charlotte? I have not greeted her properly.”

“In the nursery, miss.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Thank you.”

Had he remarried and had a child already? Without even telling her? Without introducing her?

She clutched the balustrade for support. No! He couldn’t be married already. Everything would be ruined. No wife would allow her husband to help a woman find a husband.

Determined to discover the truth, Louisa raced up the stairs to the third floor where the nursery was located. She could hear high-pitched giggles emanating from the room. Slowly, she peeked into the room and then covered her gaping mouth. Harry lay sprawl

ed out on the floor of the room with a small dark-haired girl no older than three sitting on top of his chest.

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