Page 44 of How the Duke Saved Christmas

Truthfully, I am worried over the baby’s late arrival, and I cannot leave Marie now. I need to be here until the birth.

“Of course, you do,” she whispered, completely understanding and wishing her brother to be nowhere else but pacing the hall outside his wife’s room when the baby finally decided to arrive. Yet understanding didn’t keep her chest from aching when she read the rest of the letter.

To my deepest regret, I will not be able to return for you until after the New Year, and I do not feel comfortable sending you north without a male relative at your side. I am terribly disappointed that we will not all be together for the holidays as we had originally planned, but we will celebrate the holidays well when weareall finally together.

A knot formed in her throat, but for the life of her, she had no idea what to feel at that news. Only a few days ago, she wanted to be anywhere else but Northbourne Park. Now she knew how much she would miss it once she left.

Wakefield will take the best possible care of you, and I am certain he hopes you will consider Northbourne a second home. Please try to enjoy your stay there. Be certain to drink up all of his best cognac on my behalf. (He keeps it in his study).

With all love—

Anthony

A soft knock sounded at the door, and Michael slowly entered the room. When he saw that she’d already read the note, his shoulders relaxed, and he closed the door.

He nodded at the pianoforte. “I hope this means you’ve been playing.”

“A little.” She grimaced. “Not well.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

She had no intention of falling for his baiting again as she had in the stables and playing for him to prove him wrong. Instead, she carefully turned completely around on the bench to face him and put her back to the keys.

“But I am glad you’re putting the room to use for your music.”

“And for hiding away from Mrs. Bailey,” she admitted a bit shamefully.

The woman was caring and thoughtful, and Clara would never have been able to do without her.

But she could also be irritatingly underfoot and suffocating, and truly, Clara needed a companion, not a nurse. She’d come to realize that. She wasn’t helpless, as Michael was making her understand more and more every day. Perhaps she had been at first. The adjustment to not being able to walk more than few feet had been horrible, and she’d spent more time crying and feeling sorry for herself than she wanted to admit. But now, she didn’t need to be watched at every moment. It took Michael’s insistence that she could reclaim large portions of her life—and Mrs. Bailey’s ongoing absence—to prove it to her.

He gave her a wide grin, as if he could read her thoughts. Double drat him.

He crossed the room to the fireplace. He’d removed his jacket before going upstairs to say goodnight to the children, leaving him scandalously half-dressed in his shirt sleeves and even more shockingly so when he paused to unfasten his cuffs and roll his sleeves up his forearms. Yet oddly, that casual gesture worked to make her feel more at ease, despite the warmth that blossomed low in her belly at the sight.

She cleared her throat. “The children are all in bed for the night, then?”

“I put them into their beds.” He cast her a knowing glance over his shoulder as he reached for the iron poker to stir the coals. “That doesn’t mean they’ll stay there.”

“You’re very patient with them,” she commented as she watched the firelight grow brighter and play softly over his handsome face. “You’re going to be a good father someday.”

He tossed a small chunk of coal onto the fire and said thoughtfully into the flames, “I do want that, a big family with lots of children and eventually grandchildren.” He cocked his head as if listening to the house around him as he murmured, “This place is too empty, too quiet. Having my nieces and nephews here has made me realize that more than ever before. I like having noise and chaos in the house, little boys to run through the halls, and little girls to spoil.”

A dark place in her heart made her ask, even as she feared the answer, “Then why haven’t you gotten married?”

“I was going to,” he said as quietly as a whisper, but his soft words ripped through her chest. “But the woman I loved changed her mind.” He returned the poker to the rack and faced her. “Why haven’t you?”

Because I loved you too much…She didn’t dare answer. Those days were gone, and he deserved a wife who could be a true partner and duchess for him, who could give him the children he wanted, who wouldn’t be a burden.

Instead, she held out the note to him. “Anthony wrote to us. Would you like to read his note?’

He shook his head and kept his distance as he moved from the fire to the drink tray on the side table. “What did he write?”

“That Marie is stillenceinteand so he didn’t miss the birth.”

He selected a crystal decanter from the mirrored tray and pulled out its stopper. “That’s good to hear.”

“That the roads to the north were worse than he’d thought and nearly impassible.”