Page 122 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

They clearly wanted money, but perhaps they had decided to wait to send the letters until they were certain Isolde would not return or send their payment by courier. And even if they had sent the letters, she did not know how long they might take to reach Leopold and her father, or how long it might be before either man could reply or act.

Worst of all, Cecily had developed a cough during the previous night. Every time the child coughed, Honora’s stomach tightened. She had been walking the small room with her for hours, keeping her against her shoulder, stopping only long enough to sit on the edge of the bed and rub her back.

The room was too small for pacing properly. Honora did it anyway. Three steps toward the window. Turn. Three steps toward the door. Turn. Again, and again.

Cecily coughed.

Honora kissed her hair. “Easy.”

The baby made a tired sound against her shoulder.

“I know.”

The men had not brought enough food that morning, and the last of the milk was gone. Honora had given most of the bread ration to Cecily as soon as they brought it and kept the rest for the child for later.

She suspected that the smaller portion was the result of her attempt at defiance the day before and her request for more food. It was some sick punishment for challenging them, and Cecily would be the one to suffer most.

The house below had been strangely quiet all day. Too quiet. Honora noticed because there had always been some sound before: footsteps, voices, doors opening, men arguing. Right then, there was almost nothing.

She closed her eyes and prayed. Not to God, as her faith in a higher power grew more strained with each suffering cry that came from Cecily. Instead, she prayed to her sister, silently speaking to her as she once had when Honora had thought her whole world was falling apart.

Celestine, please let her be all right.

Please let Cecily be all right.

I’m unsure how much longer I can do this. I do not know what I am supposed to do when she cries and I cannot make it better.

You always knew what to say.

You always made everything seem less frightening.

So please, wherever you are, stay close to her.

Just a little longer.

Please let someone find us.

Please let her go home.

Please let me get her home.

The only reply she received was another cough from Cecily. That time, she had trouble catching her breath, and Honora held hers. When the child at last stopped coughing, she whimpered weakly.

Too soon, the bread rations would not be enough even for the child. There was no medicine to be had, so Cecily’s cough could only get worse. And Honora knew well that a child could only be so sick for so long. If something did not change in the next day or so, her prayers, hopes, and efforts would be for nothing. Cecily would die, and she would be not far behind her.

She paced for hours that she no longer bothered to track. Sometime after breakfast, she stopped beside the window. Cecily coughed again and again. Honora looked outside. The light had begun to change. It was late afternoon. She had no idea how many more hours she could keep going. Her hunger was making every step feel like a mile.

Cecily, while a little bit lighter than when they had first arrived days before, became heavier and heavier in her arms the longer Honora stood with her. Even her earlier prayer began to feel foolish. Celestine could not help them. She was gone. It had been up to Honora to care for and protect Cecily. She had failed. And now, Cecily would be punished because of it.

Then, she heard hoofbeats. Honora froze, terrified to move until she was sure the sound was real. She listened, summoning the strength to hope once more. Hooves struck hard against the ground below, seeming to vibrate the ground as they drew closer. Her heart began beating faster.

Had someone learned of their disappearance and come searching for them? Or had the men gone to find more of their ilk and take their payment in the form of Honora’s and Cecily’s lives, as they had threatened?

Voices followed. There were men shouting.

She moved toward the door, holding Cecily tightly. At first, she could not make out any of the words. More voices joined the original shouting, and it sounded like a racetrack full of men who had lost their respective bets.

Then, she heard a voice she knew.