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will be required. The nursery is currently being deep-cleaned and preparations are being made
to compensate for my absence. All that’s left is for you to shower and dress in anticipation of
your brother’s arrival.”
Hugh wheezed at him.
“I understand that this is a very trying time, sir,” Finch said as he squeezed Hugh’s arm. “Rest
assured that no detail has been overlooked. All will be well. Now, please see yourself into the
shower. You wouldn’t want to look disheveled when Everard arrives, would you?”
Hugh’s head wasn’t all there, but the neurons he had left fired off a prickly memory. “That cake-
stealing bastard.”
Finch smiled. “Yes, sir. That’s the one. Speaking of, while I don’t condone such activities taking
place on the grounds of the estate, would you like me to get in touch with Gabriel? I’m sure he
could arrange to have something brought to you that would help take the edge off, so to speak.”
What did Gabriel have to do with Everard? There was a nagging sensation in the back of
Hugh’s mind like he should have been able to make the connection, but everything was a little
hazy. The only thought able to permeate his thick cerebral fog was that in no time at all, Finch
would make him a father. The thing he’d wanted all his life was finally coming to pass, only
now not only would he have a son or daughter, but he’d have a perfect partner to share
fatherhood with.
Blood rushed to Hugh’s face. He was sure every bit of skin from his shoulders up was red.
Stunned, he stared at Finch and announced to any eavesdroppers, “We’re going to have a
baby.”
“Excellent deduction, sir.” Finch patted his knee, then pushed him toward the side of the bed.
“Go shower. It’ll help you feel better. While you’re in there, I’ll get in touch with Gabriel and see
if he doesn’t have something to help you calm down a little.”
Hugh left the bed, the bottoms of his bare feet meeting the cold wood floor. “You shouldn’t be
doing anything, Finch. I’m the one who should be doing everything. You’re having a baby. Our
baby. I—” The gravity of the situation hit, and Hugh’s knees threatened to buckle. He caught
himself on the side of the bed. “You’re having our baby,” he gasped.
“Yes, sir.”
“We’re going to be fathers.”
