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“Fuck. We’ve noticed the looks between them.”
Declan nodded. “I have to tell Mum.”
“Holy shit.” I massaged my neck as sympathy for my mother intensified. “Should we talk to him first?” I tossed a pebble into the pond, trying to make it skip.
“I’m not sure. But they’re to marry next week.”
“They haven’t exactly hidden it. How has Mum not seen it? She doesn’t normally miss a bloody thing. And why’s he still going ahead with the marriage?”
Declan puffed. “Watch out for the quiet ones, they say.”
We walked back through the iron gates with Elysium scrolled in filigree.
Theadora walked over to Declan. “Shouldn’t we make that announcement?”
“Announce what?” I asked.
“We’re having a baby.” Declan’s eyes shone with emotion.
My mouth fell open. “Wow. And you’re telling me now?”
Declan shrugged. “With everything going on in your life, I thought it best left to my darling wife.” He kissed her hair and draped his arm over her shoulder.
If ever anyone needed an image of what a loved-up couple looked like, my brother and his wife were that marriage-venerating poster couple. Only they were real. Very real. And it warmed my very existence to be part of their lives.
I kissed Theadora’s cheek. “That’s great news.”
Declan’s eyes had a mist over them. Yep, us Lovechilde boys had forgotten about that stiff-upper-lip rule drummed into us as boys via expensive and dated education.
I hugged Declan. “I’m happy for you.”
He looked at me with sympathy. “You’re okay? Really? I wasn’t sure whether to tell you yet.”
“I’m elated. Really.” I set my bottle on the glass tabletop. “I have to leave now, though.”
“Really, but this is only just started,” he said. “And what about that other matter?”
“Let’s talk a little more later.” I’d almost forgotten about my mother’s new problem. All I could think of was seeing Mirabel and mypossibleson.
Chapter 27
Mirabel
Cianbitonmynipple, and I flinched. “Ouch.” His big brown eyes looked up at me, and I wagged my finger at him. “You’re like your father. You’ve got a thing for my nipples.”
I laughed at myself. Was that sick of me to think of that while my baby fed on my breast? Probably.
Just as I was putting Cian back into his crib, a knock came at the door.
Assuming it was Audrey popping in for a cup of tea and to hold Cian, I opened the door without thinking. I nearly fell over. My knees came close to buckling. Before me stood Ethan, his arm above his head, leaning against the doorframe. The sleeve of his pale-blue shirt looked like it would burst.
I shouldn’t have been surprised—I’d been expecting him since that meeting with his mother. And I was about to call him anyway. I was just trying to summon the courage to ask him for a hair sample. Not that I actually believed it necessary as I was now convinced Cian was Ethan’s son. And for that alone, I knew I had a lot of apologising to do.
My throat tightened from nerves.
His gaze pierced mine, and my lips strained into a trembly curve.
“I’ve come to see my son.” He looked serious. No softly spoken, caressing words that could make me give everything. Just a demand.
