Page 40 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

Barnaby’s gaze lifted then, steady and interested. “And what do you think she meant?”

“I do not know.”

“Do you have a theory?”

Leopold was quiet for a moment. “It sounded as though she already knew.”

“Why would she keep such a secret from you?”

Leopold shrugged.

“That is one question I keep asking myself, and I cannot think of a single reason.”

Barnaby nodded.

“Perhaps it is as simple as more rumors she heard long before that baby showed up here.”

Leopold thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“She hates scandal, but she would never behave so irrationally over mere speculation.”

“So you believe she is keeping some kind of secret?”

Leopold nodded slowly.

“I suppose I do think that,” he said. “It is at least a prominent thought.”

Barnaby looked at the board for a moment, then back at him. “That is unpleasant.”

“Yes.”

“She could mean any number of things.”

“Could she?”

Barnaby’s mouth quirked. “You sound as though you would prefer a simpler problem.”

Leopold moved a pawn with more force than necessary. “I would prefer a problem that had not arrived wrapped in shawls and society gossip.”

Barnaby’s expression was dry. “That would be a remarkably inconvenient preference for a duke.”

Leopold did not answer. He tried to be irritated at Barnaby’s ceaseless jesting. But he had to admit, at least to himself, that even though he could not laugh, his friend trying to show him that it was not the most serious trouble in the world did lift his spirits, if only a little.

Barnaby studied him. “You are worried.”

Leopold made a low sound of protest. “I am thinking.”

“That is usually how it begins.”

Leopold gave him a flat look. “You are insufferable.”

“And yet you continue playing.”

Before Leopold could answer, there was a knock at the door.

Mrs. Pritchard entered with a tray of post in one hand and a folded note held on top of it.

“Your Grace,” she said, “there is a letter.”