Page 142 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

“Perhaps one day, you shall,” she said.

Silence settled between them for a while, and neither of them tried to fill it for some time.

“Is Cecily safe?” Gideon finally asked.

“Yes.”

“And you?”

The question caught her completely off guard. Honora thought of the nursery upstairs, the baby asleep in her crib, Leopold somewhere within the house, and Martha working in the kitchen. She also thought of the bag she had finally unpacked and had not looked at since.

The answer came without any hesitation at all, for the first time since she had started asking herself that question.

“Yes,” she said. “I am safe.”

Her father nodded. “Good. It might be difficult to believe now, but I have been very worried. About both of you.”

Honora nodded. “It is rather difficult to believe.”

Her father’s shoulders lowered visibly as he looked down at his hands. “I am sorry, Honora,” he said softly.

His apology was simple and plain, yet it was the most powerful and convincing thing he had said. There was no excuse attached to it, and no explanation trailing along behind it, only the words offered without any expectations.

“Your apology is late,” she said, looking at him for a moment.

“I know.”

“But I hear it,” she said, nodding slowly.

“I am glad,” Gideon said, and his face eased ever so slightly.

By the time her father left a few minutes later, it was close to dinnertime. Honora watched from the window as he walked down the long drive with his hat held in one hand. She did not wave. He did not turn back to look. But something inside her felt less tangled than it had been that morning, and she found she was grateful for that small change.

***

That evening, as Cecily sat playing with some blocks after her dinner, a quiet knock sounded at the nursery door.

Honora looked up, surprised. The dowager stood there, and for once, she looked uncertain of herself. “I was hoping I might get here before she was asleep.”

Honora quickly picked up the child, reflexively holding her tightly. “She will likely be awake for another hour or two. Did you need something?”

The dowager looked at Cecily, who was watching her with silent wariness, as if she somehow knew that was the person who had been planning to send her away from yet another family.

Her true family, Honoria thought as her father’s words returned to her.

“I was wondering if I might hold her for a moment,” the dowager duchess said.

Honora looked at Cecily, who had decided to wave a fist and point at her grandmother. “It seems that she wishes to get a better look at you.”

The dowager smiled softly, entering the room slowly. Honora held Cecily out to her, and she took the child with careful but slightly awkward movements and trembling hands. She stared down at her granddaughter for several seconds without saying anything at all.

Cecily regarded her with the same solemn interest she had given Leopold when he came to check in on Honora on her first day posing as the nursemaid. Then, the baby reached up and caught the necklace at the dowager’s throat.

The chain pulled taut. The dowager made a small, startled sound.

“No, darling,” Honora said, stepping forward and reaching for the child’s hands.

The dowager laughed. “It is all right. I do not mind.”