Page 89 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

“Here and there.”

Lady Isolde nodded, as if that answer suited her entirely.

Then, with the sort of calm Honora found more dangerous than cruelty, she said, “You manage the child very well.”

Honora said nothing.

Lady Isolde’s smile returned. “Belgrave is fortunate.”

A moment later she turned toward the nursery window as if the question had already been settled and there was no reason to pursue it further.

Honora watched her go, and when she looked back, she understood something that had not been clear at the beginning.

This woman was dangerous.

Not because she was cruel, not because she was cold.

Because she was comfortable.

Comfortable with the house, with being there, with Leopold, with the child, with the whole arrangement, as if she had already accepted the part she was meant to play.

That was dangerous for Cecily.

Not for Honora.

She knew that much at once.

When Lady Isolde left the room with Leopold still outside, Honora stood in the nursery doorway. She watched her go down the corridor, tall and elegant and entirely certain of herself.

She did not like the feeling that settled in her chest as she watched.

It was not jealousy.

Not exactly.

It was fear.

***

That night Honora woke before dawn from a dream so vivid it left her with tears she had not realized she was crying.

Celestine was in it.

A garden.

Bright light.

The two of them sitting side by side the way they used to when they were younger and the world had not yet split. Celestine had been saying something. Honora could not hear the words. She had woken before she could.

What remained was the sound of Celestine laughing.

Not a memory of the laugh.

The sound itself.

It stopped Honora in the dark.

She lay very still, staring at the ceiling, and listened to the quiet of the room around her while the dream slipped away piece by piece.