Page 63 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
“I know that,” she said. “And I understand that you must do what you must to manage the estate. It is only that I—” She stopped. “I do not wish to speak of it further.”
“I will not press you,” he said. He paused. “I will only say this. I have noticed more than once how you react to a show of temper near you. And if something happened to you I want you to know that Huxley Vale is very fortunate to be already dead. Because otherwise I would have something rather pointed to say to him.”
She said nothing. But the stiffness went out of her shoulders, very slightly, and she looked down at Lavinia’s sleeping face.
“Will I see you at dinner?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. She hesitated. “And perhaps tomorrow — for breakfast. Together.”
He had not expected that. He felt it land somewhere in his chest and stayed there warmly.
“I would like that very much,” he said.
She got up, carried the sleeping Lavinia out, and left him behind — feeling, for the first time since they had arrived at Blackthorne, that something had shifted between them. Not much. But perhaps enough.
CHAPTER 27
HELENA
The following morning, Helena walked down the stairs with Lavinia at her side. The little girl was learning to manage the stairs but took her time about it, which was just as well. It gave Helena time to sort her thoughts and calm herself.
Her conversation with Gideon still sat heavy in her bones. She knew that sooner or later she would have to tell him the truth about what had happened in her past. About how cruel Huxley had truly been. She also knew that she could not go on letting the past govern her present. Still, it was difficult.
Blackthorne was beginning to feel like a real home. The estate, the people in the village — all of it was beginning to feel like something she might belong to. What concerned her more than anything, though, was Gideon. It was becoming clear that he was imagining something more for their marriage than they had agreed upon. And the truth was that sometimes she wished for that too.
“Mama?” Lavinia said, looking up at her with wide eyes. They had reached the bottom of the stairs, and Helena had not even noticed. She scooped the little girl up and crossed into the breakfast room.
She and Gideon had dined alone the previous evening, not speaking very much, and he had not pressed her — which she had appreciated. This morning, when she entered, he rose and pulled out a chair for her beside his own. They settled Lavinia into the small chair designed for her, placing her between them.
“I hope you slept well,” he said.
“I did,” she replied. “Quite well. It is a lovely estate.”
A servant brought in a fresh tray and Gideon, without ceremony, cracked a boiled egg, removed the shell, and set it on Lavinia’s plate. Lavinia grabbed it at once and attempted to insert the whole of it into her mouth. He removed it with equal speed. “I do not think your mama was quite finished with that yet, little lady.” Then, to Helena’s surprise, he cut it into small pieces and arranged them on the plate, leaving Lavinia to manage them herself.
“Mrs. Strom taught me something about feeding small children,” he said. “Or rather, allowing them to feed themselves.”
Lavinia crammed several pieces into her mouth simultaneously, missing some, and smeared yolk comprehensively across her cheek. Gideon took a napkin and cleaned her up.
“I know it is futile and we shall have to do it again afterward,” he said.
“And yet,” she replied. “You are really trying. I appreciate it.”
“I told you — this is her home now. I want her to feel comfortable here. And I want her to think of me as her father, if that is all right with you.”
She nodded. They had never properly discussed what his role in Lavinia’s life would look like day to day. It was good to hear it said plainly.
“I thought perhaps we might walk into the village today,” he said. “There is a market on Mondays and Thursdays. I should quite like to have a look. Several of the farmers sell there, and I understand there is an abundance of belly timber on offer.”
She looked up. “I heard there are apple and strawberry pies, and all manner of seasonal ones. I should very much like to try them.”
“You like pies?”
“I adore them.”
“Pie pie pie,” Lavinia announced, and slammed her hand on the table.
“Not for you,” Helena said. “And you are not coming to the village today. You are going with Miss Marlena.”
