He moved to the bell pull. “I’ll have Peters?—”
“No.” The word came out sharper than intended. “I mean, not yet. We need to discuss this first. What we’re going to tell people. How we’re going to…” She trailed off feeling overwhelmed by the magnitude of what they were considering.
Claiming another woman’s child as their own. Living a lie for the rest of their lives.
“We’ve been married for over a year.” The Duke’s tone turned businesslike. “The timing is perfect. We’ll say that you gave birth in the countryside, away from the prying eyes of theton, and your health required privacy.”
“You’ve figured this out very quickly. One would assume you expected it, Your Grace.”
“It is my duty to resolve problems. And no, I did not expect this, Duchess. I did not expect this at all.” He moved closer, and she fought the urge to step back. “The alternative to this situation is sending Evie to an orphanage or a workhouse. Is that what you want?”
“No!” The vehemence in her voice surprised her. She looked down at Evie’s peaceful face and the tiny fingers which were curled into fists. “No, she deserves better than that.”
“Then she’s ours.” His voice held a finality that made her chest tighten. “Lady Evangeline Sencler, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Carridan.”
The title sounded strange. Their daughter. As if they were a real family instead of two strangers bound by a contract and necessity.
“Unless you object,” he added.
For the first time, Iris heard uncertainty in his voice.
Did she object to raising another woman’s child? To perpetuate a lie that would follow them forever? To binding herself even more closely to a man who couldn’t bear to be in the same house as her?
Evie made a small sound, and her face scrunched up in sleep. So innocent. So undeserving of the chaos surrounding her arrival.
“No,” Iris whispered. “No objection.”
“Then it’s settled.” The Duke moved back to the bell pull. “Peters will prepare a nursery. We’ll need a wet nurse immediately, and?—”
“I’ve been managing.”
He paused and looked at her with something akin to surprise. “You’ve been feeding her yourself?”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “No! I mean, we found a wet nurse in the village near Carridan Hall. A farmer’s wife who recently had a baby. She’s been coming to the house, but obviously, she couldn’t travel with us to London.”
“You’ll need someone here immediately, then. A proper live-in wet nurse.”
“Yes, I know. The woman at Carridan said that Evie’s taking well to feeding, but it’s been hours since…” She trailed off, feeling like she was giving him too many details.
“I’ll have Peters send for someone tonight,” he said firmly. “There are agencies that provide discreet services for noble households. The staff here can be trusted, but?—”
“Your Grace.” The title felt strange on her tongue after so long. “Stop.”
She waited for his eyes to connect with hers.
“You’re doing it again,” she continued. “Making decisions, giving orders, arranging everything to your satisfaction. Just like our wedding.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“No, you’re trying to control.” She shifted Evie to her other arm as exhaustion pulled at her bones. “I’ve been managing for two days; I can continue to manage. What I need from you is not orders, but answers.”
“I told you?—”
“That she’s not yours. Yes, I heard.” Iris studied his face, searching for cracks in his composure. “But you know who she belongs to, don’t you? This isn’t some random abandonment.”
Owen’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “What makes you say that?”
“The way you’re handling this. This calm consideration of our dilemma instead of immediate outrage.” She stepped closer despite her better judgment. “Someone you know left her at the estate.”
