Page 120 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

Leopold stepped back. All the pieces began to move at once. The shawl, the private account, the baby, his mother’s silence and the way she had looked at Cecily on the morning she arrived.

“My mother knew?” he asked, feeling the need for that specific confirmation, despite what Mr. Bellamy had just said.

“Yes,” Mr. Bellamy said again. “She and your father were worried about what people would say when they saw a child with such a striking appearance. They were not prepared to handle any gossip or scandal they might endure. My wife and I were just happy to finally have a child of our own to raise.”

Barnaby spoke quietly. “The shawl? Where did you get it?”

“The late duke gave it to me on the day my wife and I took Celestine home.”

Silence settled over the room.

“And your daughters never saw it?” Barnaby asked, still with a gentle, soothing voice.

Bellamy shook his head. “After Celestine outgrew it, I kept it hidden.”

“For thirty years?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I promised that I would never tell a soul about what we had done. What the late duke and duchess had done.”

Leopold looked toward the door. He did not know if he believed what he was hearing. Yet something deep within him knew that everything Mr. Bellamy said was true, just as with Barnaby’s account of Honora’s true identity. It made too much sense not to be.

“I kept this secret for thirty years,” Mr. Bellamy said, a sob bubbling its way to the top of his throat. “And now my daughter and granddaughter are being held because of it.”

Leopold looked down at the ransom letter. Cecily was his niece. Celestine had been his sister. And Honora was just as innocent and clueless as he had been.

She is more innocent than me right now, he thought, swallowing a lump in his throat. Her only sin in any of this was loving Cecily enough to do anything to protect her, while I sent her away to what might be her death.

He thought of the nursery floor, the fever, Honora’s face when he told her to leave. For one moment, the guilt was enough to bend him. But he forced it aside. There would be time for guilt later. Right then, he needed to act quickly.

Leopold turned toward the door. “I would like to speak with Mother.”

Mrs. Pritchard was summoned, and she went to fetch her. Within minutes, his mother entered the study. She stopped when she saw Mr. Bellamy. For the first time Leopold could remember, his mother looked as though she had been caught without a plan. Her eyes went to Mr. Bellamy, then to the ransom letter, then to the shawl.

She did not speak.

Leopold pointed toward the desk. “Tell me whether he is telling the truth.”

The dowager duchess’s face was pale. She looked at the shawl. Her hand trembled once. He did not elaborate or explain. He was sure he did not need to. She glanced at Mr. Bellamy, who surprisingly held her gaze. She took a shaky breath and looked back at Leopold.

“Yes,” she said.

Leopold stared at her. “Celestine was your daughter.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “Yes.”

“My sister.”

“Yes.”

“You sent her away.”

She opened her eyes. “I did. At three days old.”

“And you never told me.”