Page 100 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

Honora stared at her, wondering how Martha seemed to know things she could not possibly know. Then, she nodded and left the kitchen. She hurried toward the study, seeing the door was open before she reached the doorway.

She wanted to pause to catch her breath and rehearse what she would say. But she knew that if she did, she was as likely to turn and flee as she was to enter the study and tell Leopold the truth before her nerve completely left her.

Honora drew in a breath and stepped inside. Leopold was not there. The room was empty except for one person. Lady Isolde stood beside the desk.

A folder lay open beneath her hand. She looked up. Their eyes met. For one long second, neither woman spoke. Honora paid little attention to what Isolde was doing. It did not occur to her to wonder whether it was unusual for her to be standing at Leopold’s desk with him not present.

Then Lady Isolde smiled. “I was looking for writing paper.”

Honora’s gaze dropped to the folder. Lady Isolde closed it.

“You startled me.”

Honora did not answer.

Lady Isolde stepped away from the desk as though there was nothing strange about being alone in Leopold’s study. “How is Cecily?”

“She is better.”

“I am glad.” Her voice was warm, almost convincing. “Was Lord Belgrave up all night with her?”

Honora hesitated. “Yes.”

Lady Isolde’s expression shifted into concern. “How devoted.” She glanced toward the papers on the desk. “He left very early this morning for London. Estate business, apparently. He will not be back until dinner.”

Honora stared at her.

London. Early morning. Not here, not now.

She had finally decided to do the right thing. For once, she had chosen honesty over fear. And she had chosen the wrong moment.

Lady Isolde smiled again. “Was there something you needed, Miss Redmond?”

Honora shook her head. For the first time since she entered Belgrave, she had the uncomfortable feeling that she had walked directly into something she was not supposed to know.

Suddenly, she felt sure that someone else there was keeping secrets, as well. And though Isolde looked perfectly calm and pleasant, Honora was sure it had something to do with her.

Chapter 19

Leopold spent the journey back from London trying not to think about Phoebe. The estate business had been arranged before dawn and could not be postponed, though leaving Belgrave after the long night had felt abrupt even to him.

But he was far from successful in keeping his thoughts upon it. The carriage moved along the road as dusk settled over the countryside, the last gray light thinning behind the trees.

He closed his eyes briefly. He had spent most of the day telling himself that his thoughts were simply the result of interrupted sleep and too much work. He was tired, having been awake half the night.

His judgment was not at its best. Nothing more than that. It had nothing to do with the woman who had somehow become part of his every waking thought without his permission. He remembered the village: her laughing at Cecily’s latest opinion, her embarrassment in the draper’s shop, the look she had given him when he laughed, the way she had fallen asleep against his shoulder during Cecily’s fever.

He pushed the memories away. Isolde had been waiting at Belgrave for two days. He had agreed to give the courtship a chance. He had promised his mother he would try, even though he did not want to marry her then any more than he ever had.

That should have been enough. A respectable marriage would settle the scandal, protect Cecily, and make the household easier to defend. He would do what was required. That had always been his strength.

So why could he not stop thinking about Phoebe? Why did he feel so much different, so much more like himself, when he was near her, even when Cecily was not present? And why did it feel that marrying Isolde would remove something from his life that only Phoebe could offer?

By the time the carriage reached Belgrave, it was fully dark. Wilfred was waiting as the carriage came to a stop in front of the house.

“Your Grace.”

Leopold stepped down and handed off his coat and gloves. “Has anything happened?”