Page 93 of A Remarkable Rogue

“Yes, and it makes no difference to me.”

“It might.” He curled his fingers around hers. “Because the Sinclairs want to recognize me.”

Her breath caught. She couldn’t have possibly heard… “Recognize you?”

“I want nothing from them. I’ve made my own way in the world, and I will continue to do so. Acknowledging who my father is won’t change the past.” He blew out a hard breath, and his shoulders sagged beneath the weight of it all. “But recognition might make things easier for you as my wife, especially now that Robbie will be with us.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “What do you think, Baroness? Could you tolerate having the Sinclairs as in-laws?”

In other words, would she let him sacrifice his pride in order to possibly make life a bit easier for her and Robbie? Her heart swelled, unable to fathom how selfless and heroic he was, even with something as personal as this.

“I think that would be lovely.” She meant it. She couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than to have a large and loving family.

“Just remember you said that come Christmas,” he grumbled, “when we’re all crowded around the dining table in Harlow House, pretending that Lady Agnes didn’t spike the punch.”

She laughed, then reached up to affectionately brush a chestnut curl from his forehead. “You and St James do look alike.”

“We’re nothing alike,” he growled irritably.

She resisted the urge to laugh again. Oh, they wereexactlyalike!

“You have the same cheekbones and jaw, the same hazel eyes…” She trailed her fingers along his jaw to the curve of his ear and felt him shiver. “How long have you known the truth?”

“A while.” When she arched a prompting brow, he clarified, “Since I was a boy. I knew my mother once worked for St James at Pelham Park as a maid, but I never knew why she left or why there were no traces in our home of the man she said was my father, whom she claimed died when I was a baby.” He leaned forward to place a kiss to the side of her neck. “When I was fifteen, I wrote to the local vicar in the village near Pelham. I learned that there was no record of death or marker in the churchyard for a George Reed, that he had never been a tenant farmer there, and that my mother had never been married at all.”

“Oh, Nate…I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I never had a father so there was no one to miss when I learned he’d never existed.” A grim smile tugged at his lips. “A few years later, right after St James died, my mother received an inheritance from some distant relative we’d never met. It was exactly enough to pay for my commission into the army. That was Isabel Sinclair’s first attempt at making amends.”

“And offering recognition is another.” Her eyes softened on him. “Be kind to her, Nate. She’s not your mother, but she has a mother’s heart. I know how that feels.”

“Yes, you do.” His gaze drifted to the stairs that spiraled up into the tower overhead. “How do you think Robbie will feel about being my best man at our wedding?”

She couldn’t stop another tear from falling. “I think he’ll love it.”

“Let’s find out.” Grinning with happiness, Nate shouted toward the stairs, “Major Robert! Come here. We need you.”

“Sir?” A few moments later, McTavish appeared on the wooden landing halfway up the tower, with Robbie’s young face peering out from behind his legs.

Sydney slipped quickly off Nate’s lap and fussed with her skirts. She turned away from her son’s curious stare as her face heated.

“Robbie, the baroness and I want to marry, and I want you to be my best man,” Nate announced as he climbed to his feet. “What do you think about that?”

“Deuces!” Robbie shouted.

“Deuces, indeed,” Nate agreed with a wink at Sydney, which deepened her blush.

Robbie raced down the stairs. Nate scooped him up into his arms and brought their eyes level, man to man.

“Do I have your permission to marry your mother, Major?” he asked the boy.

“Aye, Captain!” Robbie gave an enthusiastic salute.

Nate tossed him into the air. The boy burst into giggles and laughed joyfully as Nate passed him off to a very befuddled-looking Sergeant McTavish, who had finally reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Off to bed with you.” Sydney placed a tender kiss to the top of the boy’s head. “We’ll see you in the morning, and we’ll discuss it more then.”

McTavish led Robbie back upstairs, taking on the unenviable task of putting to bed the now overly excited boy. There was zero chance of Robbie sleeping a wink.

“So we’re engaged.” She wrapped her arms around Nate’s neck and teased half-heartedly, with more truth than she’d admit, “But you’re still leaving me at dawn, aren’t you?”