upon me, then disappear, but rather stay and offer some advice on how to handle him.”
“I did not dump ...” Hannah began to protest. The words faded on her lips when she realized he had spoken the truth. “Er...that is...of course, your lordship.”
She glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Dear me, I must be going, or Peter and I will be late for church. Since you have less than usual to occupy you today, perhaps I could call at the Wilkeses’ cottage on my way back and bring Arthur for a visit this afternoon.”
Hannah wondered if she might be pressing her luck with that suggestion. But she wanted the earl to spend as much time as possible with his children while he was confined to bed with few other matters to claim his attention.
His lordship hesitated for a moment, then replied, “That is an excellent idea. I look forward to it.”
* * *
After what seemed like a very long time, but what the mantel clock insisted had only been two and a half hours, Miss Fletcher returned to Edgecombe. It struck Gavin that she looked rather attractive in spite of her black mourning dress and bonnet. Her cheeks had a dapple of healthy color, and there was a becoming softness about her features that might have something to do with the baby she held in her arms. Or perhaps he was so desperate for company that even the old butler would have looked attractive in his eyes.
“Lord Hawkehurst.” She perched on the edge of his bed and held up the baby for his inspection. “May I present your younger son, Arthur Gavin Horatio Romney.”
The child was dressed in identical garments to his twin sister, a white gown and cap with a blanket wrapped around him. Yet Gavin thought he could detect subtle differences in their looks. Little Arthur had darker brows than his sister and a tiny dimple in his chin. Unlike Alice, he was wide-awake and seemed less placid. His small fists flailed and his gaze swept the room, gradually focusing on his father’s face.
“Well,” said Gavin. “That is an impressive name for such a little fellow to live up to. I suppose you will have no choice but to pursue a military career. Which do you fancy—the army or the navy?”
Both were popular choices for younger sons of the nobility who would not inherit the family lands and fortune...unless some harm came to their elder brothers. Most peers liked to have at least one extra son—a spare who could inherit if anything happened to the heir.
“Would you like to hold him?” Miss Fletcher asked with a warm flicker of encouragement in her eyes. “I will not run off, I promise. I shall stay right here, prepared to take him back if you need me to.”
Gavin’s face must have betrayed his misgivings.
“There is no danger of breaking him.” Miss Fletcher bounced the child gently in her arms. “He is sturdier than he looks. Remember how well you managed with little Alice yesterday.”
“Very well, then.” Gavin held out his arms, not wanting to appear a coward. “I suppose I cannot do much worse than yesterday. I will keep try to keep my voice down to begin with.”
“That would be a good start.” Hannah Fletcher leaned closer to transfer the child into Gavin’s waiting arms. Somehow, she seemed more awkward about it than the previous day when she’d foisted his infant daughter on him without ceremony.
Today she proceeded with much greater care. “There we go. Make certain you support his head. He is a bit too young to hold it upright on his own yet. But he will be soon, won’t you, Arthur? You’re strong for your size. I reckon you will grow up to be a big, strapping man like your papa one day.”
Her remark ambushed Gavin. Was that truly how Hannah Fletcher saw him? Even the way he was now, unable to rise from his bed and as dependent on her care as any little child? His chest seemed to expand even as he fumbled to get a proper hold on his small son.
Yesterday, with Alice, he’d been too much taken by surprise to notice the brush of Miss
“I did not dump ...” Hannah began to protest. The words faded on her lips when she realized he had spoken the truth. “Er...that is...of course, your lordship.”
She glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Dear me, I must be going, or Peter and I will be late for church. Since you have less than usual to occupy you today, perhaps I could call at the Wilkeses’ cottage on my way back and bring Arthur for a visit this afternoon.”
Hannah wondered if she might be pressing her luck with that suggestion. But she wanted the earl to spend as much time as possible with his children while he was confined to bed with few other matters to claim his attention.
His lordship hesitated for a moment, then replied, “That is an excellent idea. I look forward to it.”
* * *
After what seemed like a very long time, but what the mantel clock insisted had only been two and a half hours, Miss Fletcher returned to Edgecombe. It struck Gavin that she looked rather attractive in spite of her black mourning dress and bonnet. Her cheeks had a dapple of healthy color, and there was a becoming softness about her features that might have something to do with the baby she held in her arms. Or perhaps he was so desperate for company that even the old butler would have looked attractive in his eyes.
“Lord Hawkehurst.” She perched on the edge of his bed and held up the baby for his inspection. “May I present your younger son, Arthur Gavin Horatio Romney.”
The child was dressed in identical garments to his twin sister, a white gown and cap with a blanket wrapped around him. Yet Gavin thought he could detect subtle differences in their looks. Little Arthur had darker brows than his sister and a tiny dimple in his chin. Unlike Alice, he was wide-awake and seemed less placid. His small fists flailed and his gaze swept the room, gradually focusing on his father’s face.
“Well,” said Gavin. “That is an impressive name for such a little fellow to live up to. I suppose you will have no choice but to pursue a military career. Which do you fancy—the army or the navy?”
Both were popular choices for younger sons of the nobility who would not inherit the family lands and fortune...unless some harm came to their elder brothers. Most peers liked to have at least one extra son—a spare who could inherit if anything happened to the heir.
“Would you like to hold him?” Miss Fletcher asked with a warm flicker of encouragement in her eyes. “I will not run off, I promise. I shall stay right here, prepared to take him back if you need me to.”
Gavin’s face must have betrayed his misgivings.
“There is no danger of breaking him.” Miss Fletcher bounced the child gently in her arms. “He is sturdier than he looks. Remember how well you managed with little Alice yesterday.”
“Very well, then.” Gavin held out his arms, not wanting to appear a coward. “I suppose I cannot do much worse than yesterday. I will keep try to keep my voice down to begin with.”
“That would be a good start.” Hannah Fletcher leaned closer to transfer the child into Gavin’s waiting arms. Somehow, she seemed more awkward about it than the previous day when she’d foisted his infant daughter on him without ceremony.
Today she proceeded with much greater care. “There we go. Make certain you support his head. He is a bit too young to hold it upright on his own yet. But he will be soon, won’t you, Arthur? You’re strong for your size. I reckon you will grow up to be a big, strapping man like your papa one day.”
Her remark ambushed Gavin. Was that truly how Hannah Fletcher saw him? Even the way he was now, unable to rise from his bed and as dependent on her care as any little child? His chest seemed to expand even as he fumbled to get a proper hold on his small son.
Yesterday, with Alice, he’d been too much taken by surprise to notice the brush of Miss
Similar Books
