Page 14 of A Duke in Her Fate
After all, this was not the world that young Oliver Ward was supposed to be living in. He deserved something else, something better. Already he had lost so much. All Ronan had been able to give him so far was a family name and maids who could make him smile any part of the day.
Just thinking of the boy made his heart wrench in a painful manner. He didn’t know what he was doing. He’d never been an uncle before. He’d hardly been a brother. All Ronan wanted was to make amends. He was willing to do whatever it took, even be a father.
If only I knew how.
“Does she know?” Hobbes asked when they resumed their walk.
“No.”
“She should. Everyone should. The fact that there was no announcement…”
Ronan scoffed loudly. “To say what? A healthy boy who has no parents?”
“You took him in. He’s family.”
“The ton will want to know more. They always have questions. Their noses are everywhere they don’t belong,” Ronan added on a harsh note. “I have kept him hidden and safe.”
Hobbes nodded. “I know. You’ve done well by him. But what about when he wants to see the world? We all know your father couldn’t stop you from exploring. Will you lock Master Ollie up when he grows older? He deserves to belong in your world as you have before.”
Blast it, I hate it when he is right.
It wasn’t that Ronan disagreed. He simply didn’t want the world to know. To care. To see without understanding. Yes, he intended to formally adopt the boy as his own. But he hadn’t announced the birth––just the death. Few people knew of his existence, and that offered a modicum of peace out here.
All along, I have known I would need to introduce him to the world. Already there are questions and eyes on us. Now that he visits the village with us, people see. They talk. And the rumors will grow into a dragon I cannot slay.
“I will right this,” Ronan said as they reached the house. The two men clambered inside but stayed close for Anne and Oliverto make their return as well. “The marriage will help matters. Everyone loves a wedding.”
“Very well. I suppose it makes sense, then, your requests,” Hobbes added with a short wave to the notebook. “I shall do what I can. Will it be a quick wedding, then?”
He shook his head. “No, there’s no rush to marry. Custom expects a betrothal. This will give me time to observe the lady, see what sort she truly is. Above all, she must be trustworthy.”
Nodding, his servant gave him a thoughtful smile before opening the door. There was Anne scooping the sleeping boy out of the pram. She struggled with him in his arms, coming around the wheels. It jerked slightly so Hobbes stepped up to manage the miniature vehicle.
As for Ronan, he offered his arms. “I’ll take the boy.”
“Are you certain?”
It was easiest for him to be around Oliver when the young child was already asleep. Most nights he watched Anne sing him to sleep, hiding back in the shadows before taking a turn in the rocking chair. “I am. We can skip his bath tonight, I think. Shall we take him to bed, Anne?”
“Yes, yes, Your Grace. I think that’s a fine idea. Poor boy is tuckered. Might I lead the way for you? Let me take a candle.”
“I’ll prepare your evening soak,” Hobbes murmured quietly.
Ronan nodded in agreement as he followed after Anne. They made their way through the quiet house. In his arms, he carried the warm body of the boy who slept peacefully without a care in the world. He looked so angelic it nearly broke Ronan.
Tonight, he didn’t stay long. He returned to his bed chamber and spent most of the night staring out into the starry sky, cursing his own existence.
CHAPTER 6
“But this isn’t even an invitation,” Isla muttered while her mother pranced around the hall. “It sounds like an order.”
Snatching the letter from her grasp, Margaret moved back to read it herself. The message wasn’t very long. Hardly three lines beyond the naming conventions.
A most unexpected and disturbing letter. What is he thinking? I must be dreaming. Perhaps the faeries are real and they have caught me just like Lacey keeps saying.
“It is rather… commanding,” her sister admitted with a partial smile.
Huffing, Isla snatched the cream-white paper back and read the fine penmanship. It was almost as fine as hers.
