Page 74 of The Wolf of Mayfair
Oh, Caroline.
I write to you with the most miraculous news. After so much heartbreak, I am about to deliver my precious bairn. I feel him moving and kicking. I have not previously shared my pregnancy in my previous letters as every time I’ve done so, I then had to write another informing you of another devastation.
Wingrave passed over to the end and the signature at the bottom of a long letter.
Your most loyal and loving friend,
Mairi
His gaze fixed to the joy-filled missive, Wingrave grabbed another, swiftly opened the letter, and read.
My dear friend,
First, you maintained my marriage would be a loyal and loving one. Then, following the eight miscarriages of babes I wanted with all my heart, you promised there’d one day be a babe for me. As always, you proved to be correct once more, when you predicted I carried not a boy and heir but rather, a feisty, strong-willed girl. Oh, Caro, Bruce is overjoyed. He rocks her to sleep each night, and as he does, his eyes glitter with tears and pride. He tells her stories of the great things she’ll do and everything he’ll teach her.
Wingrave paused in his reading and tried to imagine a world where the Duke of Talbert would have ever been anything but livid and disappointed that, after years of trying and failing to conceive an heir, he’d instead sired a daughter.
There wasn’t one. There wasn’t such a world. To the duke, daughters were acceptable only following the birth of a required and desired heir and spare, and then, with their only purpose being to expand the power and riches of the Talbert line.
Despite his earlier resolve, it proved nigh impossible to not envy a child so beloved by her parents.
Absently, he skimmed the last sentences.
She is the center of our universe, as radiant as the sun. We’ve named her Helia—
Wingrave stumbled. His mind froze. His gaze remained locked on the page.
“HeliaMairi Wallace,” he said, and shock pulled the name out as a soft exhale.
Miss Helia Mairi Wallace hadn’t been lying when she’d claimed a connection—albeit a secret one, unknown to all—to the Blofields.
He reeled under the enormity of that discovery.
All along, she’d been telling the truth, which meant he could absolutely not allow her to set out on her own, and she needed, in fact, to remain here.
A heady relief filled Wingrave. That profound, undeniable emotion had absolutely nothing to do with the idea of her staying, and absolutelyeverythingto do with the fact that he’d not been duped.
Stuffing the note inside his coat pocket, he quit his mother’s office.
“HeliaMairiWallace,” he thundered, irritatingly frustrated that she didn’t instantly appear.
He took the corner quickly and collided with Humphries, sending the man’s always impeccable slicked brown hair sliding out of place.
The servant tottered on his feet but managed to keep himself upright. “My l—”
“Miss Wallace,” he barked.
His butler tilted his head quizzically.
“Magnificent auburn curls, Humphries. A big, mischievous smile. Sparkling green eyes.”
The man’s eyes went big and glinted with an even greater stupefaction.
Bloody hell. Wingrave didn’t have time for this.
“This high.” Wingrave held a palm up to the lady’s respective height. “She showed up on my doorstep in the midst of a snowstorm. Does any of this sound familiar?”
Humphries found his voice. “Yes, my lord, very familiar.”
