Page 7 of A Necessary Wife

“I’m glad to be home, too,” Milo promised, settling the child in his arms and rocking him. “Now, off to sleep with you, Charlie boy. I insist you obey your big brother and do as I say. Papa has guests to entertain and must dress appropriately. Dinner, port and cigars later, all of which you are far too young to partake in yet.”

Father chuckled weakly, turned away before sinking into a chair by the fire with a groan. He rubbed his hands over his face. Milo paced the room, concerned about his father’s state, while he studied his brother’s chubby face.

From what he could see, Charlie resembled the duchess slightly more than the duke, but at this young age, his features could still change a great deal more, and perhaps his hair might turn fair like they all once were.

Charlie seemed darker but his hair was turning to curls. His small fist was clenched against his mouth, and a look of discomfort suddenly crossed his face.

Milo adjusted him up onto his shoulder, drawing up his knees beneath him, and after a moment, the boy passed wind loudly.

The duke looked around in surprise. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Milo smiled. “Because you haven’t slept properly for days, I expect. Have you eaten today, Father?”

“Yes,” Papa promised, but then he squinted at Milo. “You came directly here from somewhere?”

“Yes. I was at the estate of a friend. Reynolds.”

“You rode from there?”

He nodded. “My carriage will arrive soon.”

Father subsided with a heavy sigh. “Well, your sisters will be overjoyed to know you haven’t abandoned your children. Rebecca was asking only yesterday what kept you away for so long.”

“And Jessica, too, I suppose?”

The duke sighed. “Jessica is preoccupied with offspring of her own these days.”

“Of course. How is Whitfield taking to fatherhood?”

“He looks astonished every time he holds his son. He never expected children of his own, I suspect.”

Milo laughed softly. “No one thought the last bachelor in the district would ever wed. And to my sister? But he was always fondest of her. Once she decided it was love between them, he stood no chance of escape.”

“I don’t believe he’s once complained about the loss of his bachelorhood,” the duke said with a laugh.

Milo believed his sister’s marriage to his oldest friend—his father’s best friend—was a good match for Jessica, but it had caught the family by surprise. Gideon was not titled, but he was sensible and wealthy in his own right. A good man. The marriage also kept Jessica close to the ducal estate, and to Papa, which made it instantly acceptable to everyone.

Milo made a mental note to call there tomorrow to see the pair—no, a trio now—and share his news with them as well. If Jessica were the last in the family to know about his marriage, she would never forgive him.

As he passed his father’s chair, he noticed his head droop, and he held his tongue about his plans for tomorrow. Milo took Charlie toward the tall windows overlooking the gardens, determined to allow his papa to fall sleep if he could.

“Nicholas?”

Milo spun about as the door to the duchess’ chamber swung fully open, revealing his stepmother, Gillian. The duchess looked dazed, ten times sleepier than Papa had seemed.

She blinked when she noticed Milo in the room, and holding her son no less. She cast an anxious gaze about the room for her husband and sighed when she spotted him.

Milo drew closer to the duchess, bent awkwardly into a bow. “Father is resting.”

“I should take him from you,” she whispered, reaching for her son.

“No, no. I volunteered.” He glanced over at his father and noticed that the duke’s chin now rested on his chest. “I should have been told you were having difficulties with the boy.”

“Isn’t that what marriage and parenthood is all about?” she said with a soft laugh. “Suffering and sleepless nights and endless worry.”

“I suppose so.” He glanced toward the window, worried about how long it would take for Amelia to arrive.

“It’s good to see you home again, Milo,” Gillian whispered, drawing his attention back to her. “Your father has missed you.”