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“But it... it isn’t. He-he-he... he said…” She choked on the words as tears sneaked down her cheeks, but she did manage to lift the letter in invitation.
Scarlett took it in her free hand and read quickly. Then she dropped it with an exclamation of disgust. “Why that... that beast of a man! He may be your father, Nora, but I’d give him a slap in the face sooner than the time of day if I met him.” She hugged Nora fiercely. “And threatening to take our girl... I’d give him more than that. As if he deserved the least glimpse of our little angel.”
Hearing Scarlett defend her so fiercely helped steady her nerves. “You are right.” She gulped back further tears. “You are right.”
She took a few deep breaths, leaning on Scarlett’s arm as she gathered her composure.
Let her father say what he would. She had been there for her daughter since she drew her first breath. She had been the one to give her love and gentleness. She was the one who had fed her darling babe, who had sat with her through the nights when she was colicky. She was the one who had changed her messy nappy cloths and saved up coin by coin to buy soothing comfits and ointments when her darling girl was cutting her teeth. She was the one who had gathered scraps and cloth and secondhand clothes for the babe and sewn clothing for her as well.
No, Scarlett was right. Her father did not deserve to have a relationship with her daughter. He certainly did not have the right to take her darling babe away from her. But there was little way short of withholding her address to prevent her father from taking her child. And even that might not be enough if he or her mother were determined enough.
A disowned and disgraced daughter of a noble without a husband could not prevent her lord father from taking her child.
Without a husband…
Nora stood and crumpled the letter in one hand before throwing it in the fire. There was a way to prevent them from stealing her child. The Duke’s proposal.
A powerful and influential man like the Duke of Bedford as a husband would be more than enough to protect her little family.
CHAPTERNINE
Arthur sighed and paced out another circle of the drawing room where he waited with his mother. Less than an hour previous, they had received a short note from Nora, written in an elegant, flowing script.
I have made my decision. - Nora
He had wasted no time informing his mother and giving the appropriate instruction to Bradstone before taking himself to the family drawing room to await Nora’s coming. His mother joined him moments later, smugness radiating from her smile and posture as she seated herself gracefully.
The minutes ticked past, and they’d never seemed to be so long. He couldn’t help pacing, nervous energy thrumming through him.
In the light of day and completely sober, he was less sure than ever of his chances of obtaining a positive response. And more than that, he was more aware of the possible repercussions should she refuse him.
“Arthur.” He jolted, his thoughts brought back to his current position. He blinked and turned to his mother, stuffing his hands in his pockets to resist the temptation to fuss with his cravat.
“Yes, Mother?” He managed to keep his voice relatively level, despite his nerves.
“What colors do you think I should wear to the wedding? I rather thought your bride-to-be might do well with blues to complement her eyes, though with that dark hair and lovely complexion, something in a rose color might also…”
“Mother.” Arthur shook his head, irritation surging through him in counterpoint to the nervousness he felt. “You might wait until Nora has accepted me, if indeed she does, before picking out colors.”
His mother smirked, a sly smile gracing her finely crinkled cheeks and deepening the lines of laughter there. “Nora? Am I to take it that you actually remember the young lady’s name now?”
“Dash it all, of course I do. It’s not as if I could have proposed to her otherwise, and not likely that I should forget it so soon after the fact, either.” He tugged one hand free and scrubbed it through his hair in an effort to steady himself. “And in any case, that is an entirely different matter. You can’t possibly know if she will accept.”
“She will.” The Dowager folded her hands in her lap with a little smile.
“How in deuce could you possibly know that?” He shot her a scowl that he knew looked petulant.
His mother’s sly smile widened, but she didn’t answer. Another voice, however, did.
“How your lady mother knows, I cannot say, but she speaks the truth. I will accept your proposal, subject to certain conditions.”
Arthur spun on his heel. Nora stood in the doorway, clothed in a simple dress that she managed to make fully as elegant as any ball gown. Her hands were folded in front of her in a manner reminiscent of his mother’s seated pose, and her eyes were clear and bright.
Relief choked him and rendered him unable to speak for a moment. It was his mother who asked the question that filled his mind. “And what conditions might those be, my dear?”
Nora tossed her head slightly and squared her shoulders before she answered. “There is really only one that I must insist on. You know, both of you, that I return home every night. I have family in London that I take care of. Should I accept the Duke’s proposal, then I would like to be able to continue visiting them and seeing to their needs as I can. I should not like to neglect them merely for a change in my fortunes.”
“I think we can accommodate such a benevolent desire. It is simple enough.” Arthur swallowed again as his mother rose from her seat, beaming as she moved forward and captured Nora’s hand. “And what an honorable young lady to have such concerns!” She reached up her free hand and patted Nora’s cheek. “Indeed, it is only more proof that I was correct in my belief that you will make a fine Duchess.”
