“Have I?” Iris glanced at the window, surprised by how low the sun had gotten. “I lost track of time.”
“Should I take her so you can have your tea?”
“No.” The refusal came out sharper than she had intended. She softened her voice. “That is, she’s sleeping so well. I don’t want to disturb her.”
Mary set the tray on the side table. Her expression showed her understanding. “She’s lucky to have you, Your Grace. Whatever her circumstances.”
After Mary left, Iris thought about those circumstances again.
Who was Evie’s mother? Where was she now? Did she think about her baby? Did she wonder if she was safe and loved?
“I hope she knows,” Iris told the sleeping infant. “I hope wherever she is, she knows you’re protected. That you’ll never want for anything.”
She caught herself smiling down at Evie and felt that familiar warmth spreading through her chest. It should have frightened her, this growing attachment. Instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re safe now,” she whispered while adjusting the blanket. “Whatever brought you to us, you’re safe.”
The baby stirred slightly and her tiny fist curled against Iris’s finger. It was such a small gesture, but it felt like trust. Like acceptance.
For the first time, Iris felt truly needed. She was not just a Duchess who fulfilled social obligations but was someone who mattered to this precious life. Iris’s presence made a difference to Evie.
The nursery door opened again, but this time no footsteps announced the visitor.
Iris looked up to find the Duke standing there. He still wore his day clothes but had loosened his cravat. He looked tired. The shadows under his eyes seemed deeper than they had been this morning.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she whispered.
“I didn’t want to wake her.” He moved into the room with surprising stealth for such a large man. “Or you. You looked peaceful.”
“Just thinking.” She shifted slightly because her legs were beginning to cramp from sitting on the floor for so long. “What time is it?”
“Nearly seven. You missed tea.”
“I didn’t notice.” She looked down at Evie again. “She’s been sleeping so well, I didn’t want to move.”
“You’ll hurt your back, sitting on the floor like that.”
“Probably.” But she made no move to get up.
He was quiet for a moment, and she could feel him watching them.
It should have made her self-conscious, but there was something oddly comforting about his presence. It was as if the three of them existed in a bubble outside of time and complications.
“Has she eaten?” he asked finally.
“About two hours ago. She’ll wake up hungry soon.”
“And you? Have you eaten?” he said, gesturing to the tray of untouched food.
The question surprised her. “I… no. I forgot.”
“You forget too often.”
Before she could respond, he moved to the chair Mrs. Pemberton had vacated. For a moment, she thought he would lecture her again about proper meals. Instead, he simply sat, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
“The investment meeting went well,” he said after a moment. “The railway venture looks promising.”
“That’s good.”
