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CHAPTER4
The chit was indeed daring. He allowed the silence to linger, to grow until it had the power to intimidate yet she did not rush into nervous speech. A slight admiration pricked his chest, and he canted his head, unwillingly curious about her.
“You have me at a slight disadvantage,” Ethan said, stepping from the shadows into the meager light of the nursery. “What is your name, and why have you recklessly concerned yourself in my business?”
A slow blush mounted to her cheeks. “A question one should have insisted upon earlier, instead of threatening me from your home.”
Ethan tasted the acid in her remark. And he found her inexplicably lovely. It meant she was not afraid to cross wits with him, or perhaps she was just the foolish sort. By chance, he had entered the nursery to keep the boy company. If he had left a few minutes earlier, the boy could have been lost to him. His gut knotted, and a sliver of unfathomable emotion wafted through him. That she could place it there felt unforgivable.
“This child is mine,” he said with icy precision.
“You are unbelievably shameless,” she hissed. “He is not yours.”
“Neither is he yours,” he said, though he recalled her earlier claim of being the boy’s aunt.
Her eyes sparked with her anger. “This babe is the child of the Earl of Preston and Lady Catherine Stanton.”
The name sounded familiar. He vaguely recalled the scandal around the time of Oscar’s death. Ethan closed his eyes, pained as he recalled the last name his friend had breathed. Catherine. “A rare beauty who fell from grace for having a child out of wedlock. The whispers chased her from town to some obscure part of the countryside.”
The girl’s expression brightened with tentative hope. “You admit the child is not yours, and you have no right to keep him here?”
“I admit you are a thief who broke into my home. I can see you off to prison by the morning.”
The eager step she had taken toward him faltered. “You are the thief, Your Grace. As I told you, little Thomas is my nephew.”
Lady Catherine’s sister.
“Ah,” he said just as softly, studying her. “To your left, there is a lamp. Turn it on.”
Surprisingly she complied, and it was a good thing he was a man in command of himself and his reactions. The lady was stunning, even dressed in servant garb. “What was your goal, to steal him from under my nose?”
“Yes,” she said tersely.
A faint smile curved his mouth. “How fearless you are, Lady…?”
“Lady Verity,” she said, and he noted that her lips trembled. “Should you not hand over Thomas, I will be a pest in your life, I vow it. Your enemy until the end of time.”
He was tempted to smile at that fierceness. “How do you plan to do that from prison?”
She held herself still, and he watched as the implications sank into her bones. The little lady narrowed her eyes on him, clearly assessing how much of a threat his words promised.
“I have the sense I would regret it keenly to have you as my enemy,” Ethan said, taking a few steps closer to her. A notion teased at him, and his heart tripped in a manner that vaguely alarmed him. Perhaps the realization which had kept him from sleeping could be solved in this very moment, perhaps it need not be as brutal and difficult as he had earlier envisioned.
“I believe I have a solution that will suit both our purposes,” Ethan said, watching the detailed nuance of her expression.
“You are giving me Thomas?”
The bright light of hope that entered her blue eyes was painful to see. “In a sense.”
She gave him a wary look. “I do not understand. Please explain it well, Your Grace.”
“It is simple. I realized earlier than Thomas will need a mother’s love if he is to receive all the care, attention, and love that is due to him. You clearly love him and would meet that role in his life.”
She nodded eagerly. “I do love him, Your Grace and will love him as my own!”
He allowed his mouth to curve though he felt no amusement, “He will also need a father.”
A frown flickered over her face. “Your Grace, I—”
