Page 152 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

“Neither did I,” Leopold said, holding her closer still.

“You are a duke. Anything you wanted was always available to you.”

“I could have had anything that could be arranged,” he said. “That is never the same thing as what I truly want. I discovered the difference rather late in life.”

She laughed softly against his coat.

They stayed there together until the light began to fade. Only then did they finally walk back toward the house, and neither of them hurried the whole way there.

Martha was waiting on the kitchen steps with Cecily on her hip, wide awake and clearly delighted about it.

“She was asleep,” Honora said, stopping in surprise.

“Well, she woke up,” Martha said, wearing the picture of innocence as she said it.

“Indeed,” Honora said, staring at her with fresh suspicion.

“She did,” Martha said, her mouth twitching.

Cecily reached for her at once, and Honora took her gladly. The baby seemed to sense that something thrilling was happening, as she began to squeal and kick with furious joy. Martha smiled at the two of them.

As they all moved down the hallway, Honora noticed movement near the study door. Barnaby stood there with a glass in one hand, and Sabina stood beside him in a green dress.

She had one hand resting lightly on his arm. Honora thought he looked as though he had recently lost an argument and had thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. It was the same expression Leopold always wore when she proved him wrong about something. She understood that Leopold’s and her romance was not the only one growing inside Belgrave’s walls.

“It is about time,” Barnaby said raising his glass, speaking loudly enough for the words to carry the length of the hall. He then took a drink as though he had said nothing at all.

“Ridiculous,” Martha mouthed silently, shaking her head. Honora had never seen a wider smile on her face, even when Cecily first tasted cake and reacted with an expression of such profound betrayal that the entire kitchen stopped working to watch her.

Honora laughed at all of it.

Then, the dowager came into the hall carrying a small box in both hands.

Everyone fell silent immediately. Honora’s smile faded slightly, though not from any displeasure. She simply had no idea what to expect.

“I have something for you,” the dowager said, stopping in front of her.

She opened the box. Inside lay a ring, old in style, but elegant, and clearly well-polished and cared for.

“It was my mother’s,” the dowager said. “I would like you to have it, if you want it.”

Her voice held perfectly steady, though her hands did not, trembling as she held out the ring. Honora understood. The dowager duchess knew that Honora was still struggling to trust and forgive her.

The ring was not an attempt to gain Honora’s favor more quickly. It was an heirloom that was being offered to her to let her know that no matter what happened, she was being warmly accepted as a member of the Harcourt family.

Accepting it as such, Honora reached out, and the dowager placed it into her open palm.

“Thank you,” she added, after a moment.

“Nonsense. It is an honor to gift this to you, Honora,” the dowager said.

The dowager took her hand then. Her grip tightened and held on a moment longer than handing off the ring required. Honora let her hold on for as long as she needed to.

It seems there will be room in my heart for forgiveness for her someday, after all, she thought, giving the dowager duchess a genuine, tearful smile.

Then the dowager released her hand and stepped back, looking at Leopold. Leopold did not hesitate. He stepped forward and embraced his mother. No one said anything more. The moment needed to speak for itself. And it was.

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