Page 8 of The Duchess Debt

“Yes.”

“What for?”

The four-year-old dared to raise her gaze from the Aubusson rug, but she didn’t take a single step toward him. But then, he hadn’t expected her to. Their relationship had never been affectionate.

“Is it true?” she asked softly.

“Is what true?”

“What Mrs. Brimley an’ Larkin said.”

He frowned at her reference to household gossip. “What did they say?”

“That…” Her voice grew impossibly softer. “That I’m to have a new mother.”

“Astepmother.” Gabe corrected, then grimaced at the memory of that morning’s meeting. “Perhaps.”

“Oh.” The single word possessed a world of uncertainty.

“Her name is Miss Sinfell. Aunt Verity is most likely with her now in her room, upstairs in the family wing.”

She nodded soberly, but she couldn’t hide a curious—if confused—expression.

“Lady Alice!” Nanny Potts hurried into the room, huffing and puffing from chasing the child through the house. “Please do not run away from me when I—” She saw Gabe and dropped into a curtsey. “Your Grace.” Her round face glowed red. “My apologies.” Then she scurried forward and took Alice by the hand, giving the girl a frustrated look. “We didn’t mean to interrupt you gentlemen.”

“No interruption at all,” Caleb assured her. “We had just finished our discussion.” He cast a smile onto the girl. “Besides, it’s always a delight to see Lady Alice.”

Gabe turned back toward the window and ordered Nanny Potts, “Take her back to the nursery.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Behind him, he heard the rustle of skirts that signified the bobbing of curtsies and a quick scurry toward the door. He didn’t glance away from the window.

“Alice is growing into a lovely young girl,” Caleb commented as he settled back into his chair. “You’re a fortunate father.”

No, I’m not.He took a gasping swallow of brandy.

“I couldn’t help but notice when you spoke to Alice that you didn’t sound confident of marrying Miss Sinfell.”

“I’m confident.” He turned away from the window and walked back to join Caleb in front of the fire.

“Hmm.” The disbelief in that single sound was telling.

“I am determined to make this marriage work. Helena and I will both benefit from it.”

“And affection?”

“Irrelevant.”

“Hmm.”

Gabe’s mouth twisted. Why did the world think husbands and wives needed to be in love to have a happy marriage? Dozens of society matches were made every year, lasted for decades, and never once concerned themselves with affection. Why should his be different? Besides, he’d tried with Clarissa—he’dtrulytried to find affection for her—but in the end, every kindness he’d shown her was thrown back in his face.

But Helena understood the kind of marriage he intended to have. One without the strings and problems caused by love. In that, at least, they were off to a good start.

“A marriage doesn’t have to be anything but convenient,” he insisted.

“Hmm.”