Page 51 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

Leopold looked toward the estate wall. “What now?”

“Sabina sent another letter about the survey maps.”

Leopold raised an eyebrow. “Did she?”

Barnaby’s tone became dry. “She has opinions, and a remarkable talent for sharing them without apology.”

Leopold glanced at him. “Would you like to handle the correspondence yourself?”

Barnaby shot him a look. “That will not be necessary.”

“Pity.”

Barnaby’s expression became more pointed. “You are only saying that because you know I dislike the task.”

Leopold smirked.

“I thought you might relish a reason to correspond with the lovely lady.”

Barnaby snorted once and looked ahead again, not denying Leopold’s remark. “In any case, I will continue with the maps.”

Leopold nodded. “Good.”

Barnaby was silent for a while, then said, “You do look better when you are not trapped in the study.”

Leopold turned his head slightly. “Was that intended as a compliment?”

“It was intended as an observation.”

“That sounds suspiciously like your version of flattery.”

Barnaby smiled faintly. “Do not be vain. It does not suit you.”

Leopold carried Cecily up to the house. “You are one to lecture anyone on vanity.”

Barnaby’s reply was immediate. “I suit myself.”

Leopold laughed, surprised at how light and honest it sounded. It sounded like Miss Redmond’s did when she allowed herself to relax, even a little, and Leopold marveled at his own comparison.

***

That evening, after dinner and after the house had settled, Leopold delayed retiring longer than usual. On his way upstairs, he passed the nursery corridor and saw the door standing open.

The room beyond was lit only by the lamp near the window. Phoebe sat there in the dark with Cecily asleep in her arms, singing something low and soft. He caught no words, only the tune—a quiet thread of sound so gentle he noticed it only after it had already drawn him in.

Leopold stopped in the corridor. Phoebe did not look up at first. Her head was bent toward Cecily, and one hand moved over the baby’s back in a slow, absent rhythm. Then the floorboard beneath his boot gave the faintest creak. Phoebe lifted her head at once. The song stopped.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to interrupt. I just came to see how you were feeling after this afternoon.”

For a second, she did not answer. She only looked at him.

Then, with nothing more than a small smile and nod, she turned her face back to Cecily and resumed the song from the place she had stopped.

Leopold stood where he was as her voice drifted through the room again. He was not offended by her silence. Her expression had answered him well enough: tired, but otherwise content, and unwilling to wake the child. Still, he could not make himself leave at once.

He remained in the corridor longer than he should have, listening to the low song and Cecily’s quiet breathing, until at last, he moved on. Even after he had gone upstairs, he could still hear the melody in his head.

Chapter 10