Page 107 of My One and Only Duke
“Sometimes, we have to fight,” she said. “Turning the other cheek, letting go of the past, they have a place, but for who and what we love, we can’t help but risk everything when called upon to do so, and I love you so very much.”
Quinn rose, the small space making his size more imposing, as did the gravity in his gaze. “Your father threatened to petition for guardianship of your child?”
Even here, surrounded by wool, leather, and hay, Jane could discern the fragrance of Quinn’s shaving soap.
“The notion is laughable,” she said. “I told him as much. Told him a man who couldn’t pay his own bills wasn’t fit to take on the expenses of a child, and I left much unsaid.”
Quinn tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Such as?”
“Such as a child needing a father figure to trust and love, not some pontificating buffoon to make excuses for. I eloped to Scotland rather than deliver Papa the dressing down he deserved. Accompanied him to the prisons, said nothing when he stole my inheritance…and I’ve turned into a watering pot.”
Quinn took her in his arms. “My watering pot.”
“You found Mama’s treasures and brought them back to me.”
“You were your mama’s greatest treasure, and you’re mine to treasure for all time.”
He was such a poet, such a good, dear…Jane simply cried in Quinn’s arms for a good long while. Cried for her mother, for Gordie, for disappointments and losses too numerous to name, and for the sheer relief of having Quinn to love.
She clutched his handkerchief and clutched him, until the tears were spent, and lightness replaced her sorrow and anger.
“We have four more months of this?” Quinn asked, kissing her forehead.
“More or less.”
“I like it. You’re very cuddly when you weep.”
She smacked his chest, then looped her arms around his waist. “What will you do about the Earl of Tipton?”
“I’d like to forget about him, but instead I’ll ask you if we might decide his fate later.”
We…“Yes, Your Grace, though not too much later. Somebody has been considerately collecting invitations to discuss with me. That will not be a short conversation.”
He scooped her into his arms and sat with her on the trunk. “I meant to do just that, but then I realized I was being followed by Tipton’s man and my patience came to an end. The conversation regarding the invitations will be short, Jane. You tell me whom we’re to call on, and when we’re to call. I dress up in my duke clothes, and we pay calls.”
Jane closed her eyes, because the comfort of Quinn’s embrace was irresistible. “It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, love. When a duke loves his duchess, it’s exactly that simple, and I do love you so very, very much.”
The baby moved, or maybe Jane’s heart turned over. “I love you too. I’d like to take a nap now.”
Quinn rose with her in his arms. “I’d like to join you.”
“I’d like that too.”
Quinn had carried her as far as the garden gate when a gig clattered up the ally, Duncan at the reins. A smaller man in laborer’s attire sat beside him on the bench.
Quinn settled Jane on the garden wall. “Duncan, welcome home and thank you for a job well done. Mr. Pike, so glad you could join us. The magistrate will be wanting a word with you, so don’t think to decamp anytime soon.”
“Mr. Pike wouldn’t dream of being so cowardly,” Duncan said. “Duchess, good day.”
Jane hopped off the wall and threw her arms around Quinn. “Well done, Your Grace. Well damned done.”
“Somebody has become a Wentworth,” Duncan said, offering a rare smile. “You’re in good looks today, Duchess.”
“My duchess is fatigued,” Quinn said. “I’ll see her upstairs. Thanks again, Duncan, and we’ll chat further at dinner.”
As it happened, Jane and Quinn did not come down for dinner, though Mr. Pike did indeed bide long enough in London to offer a sworn statement to the magistrate: Quinn Wentworth had made him a small loan in that dark alley, wished him well, and gone about his business without doing anything more violent than shaking Pike’s hand.
