Chapter 2
“You are in over your head,” Lady Honoria Ashfield said. “Anyone with two eyes can see it. No… one does not need two eyes. In this instance, common sense will do the trick”
“Is that why you came to see me just now? To mock me?”
“Is it mockery to tell the truth?”
His Grace Marcus Ashfield, the Duke of Calderwick, looked flatly at his older sister.
“If I wish for your advice, Sister, I will ask for it. Until then, feel free to go back the way you came. And then, feel free to continue walking. It might be that you come upon someone who cares to hear your opinion.”
Honoria snorted. “Do not get defensive with me.”
“I was not getting defensive,” Marcus said simply. “I was merely pointing out how little I care to hear both your opinion and your advice.”
“It was neither,” she said rightly. “It was fact. I am sorry if you do not like hearing it, Marcus, but someone must tell you as it is. If it makes it easier to stomach, feel free to see it as an act of love.”
This time, it was Marcus’ turn to snort. “If that is love, I would hate to see loathing.”
“Continue to ignore my good advice and you just might.” Then, she grinned. “And that goes the same for my opinions, which we both know, are never wrong.”
“How nice it must be to know everything.”
“It is a gift and a curse,” she said with a sigh before stepping into her older brother and resting her hand on his shoulder. “I worry about you, Marcus. You know that’s all it is.”
“I know it.” Marcus offered Honoria a weak smile before turning back to what he had been doing before she interrupted him. “And while I appreciate it, forgive me for choosing to ignore it at the same time.”
“You always were stubborn.”
“A man has to have a failing,” he said with a sigh. “Let it be known that this is mine. Stubborn to a fault.”
“Only one failing? Shall I list off some more?”
Marcus’ response was a warning glare, which turned into a smile that his sister returned.
There were few people in this world who could speak so plainly to Marcus – who would dare to do so.
His sister was one of them, and while she frustrated him terribly with her ill-given advice and her tendency to always see the negative in any situation, he appreciated her all the same.
She is the one person who I might be willing to listen to… but only when it suits me. And even then, only when she wears me down like a gale blowing against stone.
With their bickering and bantering finished, the brother and sister stood silently in the doorway of the nursery, their attention now turned on its sole occupant: a sleeping one year old baby.
And thank God that he is asleep.
The babe had been awake most of the night, hollering and screaming as if the world was ending and it wished to warn everyone before it was too late.
It was early morning now, the sun having just started to peak its head over the distant horizon but seeing as Marcus had not slept so much as a wink since the baby started to cry, the time of day was vastly irrelevant.
His eyelids drooped. His head throbbed. His entire body felt as if it had been beaten to within one inch of its life.
And while Marcus would have liked nothing more than to stumble into his room and go to sleep, he felt a need to confirm that the baby was indeed asleep.
That it was comfortable… that it was safe.
“I wish to ask you a question,” Honoria began, sure to keep her voice soft to not wake the baby.
“And you’re asking permission?”
“I am warning you of it,” she corrected. “Because you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
He withheld the urge to groan. “Say it.”
“Something needs to give, Marcus.” She kept her hand on his shoulder, and they both stood to face the sleeping baby whose cot sat silently in the middle of the room. “This is what? The fifth night in a row now?”
“The sixth,” he corrected.
“All the more reason to admit that the situation is unfeasible. Look at yourself.” Honoria’s voice cracked, which told Marcus how worried she was. “Tell me truly, how many hours have you slept since…” She hesitated. “Since then.”
“Enough,” he said.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is,” he said. “It’s just not the answer you wished to hear.”
“What do you mean to do?” Her voice hardened.
“I will help where I can, Marcus. You know that I will. But this is not something you can guess and stumble your way through.” He could feel her looking at him, demanding his attention.
“Well? Do you have an answer? This is not something that you can fix with a cold glare.”
Marcus refused to meet his sister’s eyes.
He stayed staring at the cot, as if to do so kept the baby inside calm and asleep. All the while his stomach twisted with guilt, because he knew that his sister was right, just as he had no idea what answer he might give her.
“You are trying to do the right thing,” she pressed.
“And I admire it. But have you considered that the best way to honor Harry is to…” She hesitated, and Marcus was tense with the expectation of what she was about to say.
“To give the baby away? To a family who can look after it. Who knows what they are doing.”
“That is not an option.”
“And why not?”
“You know why.”
“I know why you said,” she argued. “But that is not an answer. All I am suggesting is –”
“I hear what you are suggesting.” There was a growl in Marcus’ voice, anger brought because he and Honoria had engaged in this conversation already.
The last time that they had done, it did not end well for his sister.
“And might I make a suggestion of my own?” He tore his gaze from the cot and looked at his sister.
When he did, she balked under the fury of his warning stare.
“Do not raise this topic again with me, Honoria.”
“But –”
“Enough,” Marcus growled; it was a low rumble rising from his chest. “I hear what you have said, and I will take it into consideration. Let that be the end of it.” A final glare and he turned away.
This time, Honoria was wise enough not to argue. She was the only person in the world who might dare to do so, but even she knew that Marcus’ patience had its limits, just as she knew the price paid for testing them.
It won’t last. Another night like the last and she will raise the same points, which she is right to do. That’s the worst part of it. While I know in my heart this is the right path, I wish I knew how to walk it… if walking it is even possible.
The baby, which slept so soundly in the cot, did not belong to Marcus.
His name was James, the son of Harry, who was Marcus’ steward and one of his closest friends.
Sadly, Harry had died just last week, taken by a coughing sickness brought on by the change in seasons.
He was not supposed to die… the doctors had assured Marcus that he would live…
and then, one morning, he simply had not woken up.
Marcus was a man with few friends, so Harry’s death had hurt more than Marcus was willing to admit to anyone… even himself.
Worse, Harry had left behind a one-year-old son – the boy’s mother had died giving birth to the babe. Not knowing what to do, guilt ridden and desperate to honor his late friend, Marcus had elected to raise the boy as his own.
Just then, the baby coughed and both Marcus and Honoria froze. Thankfully, the baby did not wake up, and both breathed a sigh of relief.
“Shall I fetch someone?” Honoria asked. “Give you a chance to get some rest?”
“Who?” Marcus sighed. “I sent those who stayed up last night to bed. They need sleep.”
“As do you.”
“I am fine.”
She scoffed. “If this is fine, I would hate to see you weary. Little James is sleeping, Marcus. Go and get some rest.”
Marcus knew it was good advice, but he was not willing to take it just yet. As had been the case for the last six days, every waking thought was dedicated to James and how he planned on looking after the child that was not his.
Standing in the doorway, watching the sleeping child, he decided to give voice to these ideas. If for no other reason than to hear his sister agree with him for once, because he needed to hear it. For his own sake… so I know this is the right path. It must be.
“I will hire the best governess in England,” he said. “No matter the cost. The child will have everything he could ever desire and more.”
“Is that so?” Honoria asked.
“It is.”
“Dare I ask, will the boy have a mother too? Although our childhood is not exactly a ringing endorsement for motherhood, you must admit that James will need a mother above all else.”
“He will be fine without one.”
She sighed. “Marcus, I am more than aware of your objections toward marriage. Everyone who knows you is.”
“Then why bring it up?”
“Because if you want to do right by this child, and by your friend, then you ought to start searching for a bride. Even had you not decided to adopt so suddenly, you would still require one. Your title and place in society demands it.”
Marcus groaned, and he purposefully avoided looking directly at his sister. There is no need because she knows what I am thinking. This is not exactly a new topic…
As a duke, Marcus was expected to marry. He had known this his entire life, even been raised to accept it so that when the day came, he would not object. The irony in all of this was that the way he was raised was precisely why he did not want to marry. Ever.
His parents were a cold and calculating duo.
Marcus’ mother cared only about perception, and everything that she did was designed to mold Marcus into the perfect son of the ton.
His father, on the other hand, was as cold and cruel a man as existed, and his ire was legendary.
Nothing was ever good enough, nothing was ever close to right, and Marcus was always to blame.
There was no love in the household that Marcus was raised in. Not between husband and wife. Not between parents and children. They were products, born and bred for a purpose, and the effect of this was still felt today.
To marry… to have a child of his own… Marcus did not see the point. In fact, he thought he was doing the world a favor by refusing such a thing.
“Marcus?” Honoria began softly as the silence stretched between them. “Do not get upset, but there is something that I wish to bring to your –”
Suddenly, the baby woke up and with its waking came hell.
The baby screamed murder so that the walls started to shake. Marcus hesitated, not certain how to act. Although he had spent the last six nights watching over the child, he had always had help, and rarely was he needed directly.
The baby’s cries grew louder… pain-filled and scared… and Marcus swallowed back his uncertainty and hurried into the room.
Again, when he reached the cot he hesitated, no idea what to do or how to do it. He half-reached for James, paused, felt as if he was doing something wrong…
And still the baby cried, forcing him to scoop it into his arms and gently rock it back and forth. It was awkwardly done, proof that he was in over his head in everything.
Proof that the child needs a mother, as loath as I am to admit it.
Honoria watched from the doorway, and she wore a sad frown. “You need help, Marcus. Anyone can see it.”
“I am quite fine.”
“As I was saying…” She started carefully into the room, wincing as the baby cried louder. “Later this week, Lady Fairvale is hosting a charity patronage. It is said to be a casual affair…” She scoffed. “Or as casual as people from this town are capable. I think you should go.”
Marcus looked flatly at his sister, no need to say anything.
“You do not have to decide on anything,” Honoria pressed, forced to speak loudly because the baby made such a noise. “There is no pressure. But you need a wife, Marcus. James needs a mother. And it will not hurt to at least get a sense of who is out there.”
“It is a waste of time.” He gently stroked the baby’s back, no idea if it was making a difference.
“No,” Honoria said. “What you are doing now is a waste of time. This is necessary, and it is good for the child.”
“You do not know what is good for the child.”
“Nor do you,” she said rightly. “Imagine if James was still alive. What would he say? What would he want? He would want what was best for his son, and you know as well as I that this is best.”
Marcus groaned under the weight of her argument.
She is right… about everything. I do not wish to marry. A wife, that life, it is the last thing I desire. But it’s not just my life anymore, and if I mean to do this, it is time I accept that.
“I will attend,” Marcus sighed, just as James started to find calm; somehow, he seemed to understand what was being spoken about, just as he agreed with its rationale. “But I will not do so with an eye toward courtship. Looking is all I will do. Getting a sense, as you put it.”
Honoria breathed a sigh of relief. “This is a good thing, Marcus. In time, you will come to see it.”
To that, Marcus said nothing.
Pride kept him quiet, because he hated admitting when his sister was correct. Deep down, however, he accepted the truth of her words. Marcus had no desire to wed, but he had made a promise to a friend, and he intended to keep that promise… no matter the cost.