Page 92 of Married to the Icy Duke
“I am not …” Matthew’s voice cracked, and he was obliged to compose himself. “I am notdanglingthe child anywhere.”
“No?” It was time to act. Isaac met Tommy’s eye. The child looked back, entirely free of any sort of fear or revulsion at the sight of Isaac’s face.
He doesn’t care. He loves me anyway.
“Tommy, come here,” Isaac said, his voice light.
Tommy carefully placed the buttons down and slid to the ground. He made to run over to Isaac, but Matthew leaned forward, quick as a flash, and grabbed onto his arm.
Tommy glanced at his arm, then at Matthew’s hand, with a sort of quizzical confusion.
“Let go,” he said, his little voice high and piping, with barely a hint of disuse in it.
Matthew’s face crumpled. His arm fell nervelessly at his side.
He’d barely let go of Tommy before Isaac snatched him up, heart pounding. Tommy, unaware of any danger, wrapped his arms around Isaac’s neck and nuzzled there, smothering a yawn.
“Papa,” he pronounced.
“Is he safe?” Charlotte gasped, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Isaac …”
“He’s unharmed,” Isaac responded, his knees threatening to buckle in relief.
Tommy twisted around to beam down at Charlotte and reached out to touch her glinting copper curls.
“Mama,” he managed. “Charlotte.”
Charlotte gave a sobbing laugh. “Yes, darling, IamCharlotte!”
Slowly, very slowly, Matthew slid down from the windowsill, landing on his knees. He gave a ragged sob, reaching up to cover his face in his hands.
“You have called the constables, I suppose?” he whispered.
“Yes, we have,” Isaac responded, his voice tight. He waited for rage to come, that blinding rage which had always carried him through before. As he stared down at his old friend, broken and blind with grief, no rage came. Only pity.
“Good,” Matthew whispered. “That’s good. Oh, what have I done, Jasper? What have I done?”
No one had an answer for him. Isaac only wrapped his arms tighter around his wife and his nephew and promised himself that nobody would ever take them away again.Nobody.
CHAPTER 27
“Will he hang, do you think?”
Isaac flinched, blinking. He had not realized that Charlotte knew he was there.
Tommy was fast asleep, tucked up in his bed. The little boy was clearly unaware of the danger he'd been in.
Had he been in danger? Would Matthew have hurt him? Isaac wasn’t sure. Now that the danger was over, his gut told himno, but he wasn’t sure he could rely on anything he felt at the moment.
It was past midnight now. Mary had gone to bed, and the guests were gone, herded out by the constables. Far from ruining their party, Isaac wryly thought that it had only made them more infamous, the invitations to any future parties more sought-after. The constables had taken Matthew, who did not resist. Statements had been taken from all present.
Now that the panic and excitement were over, Isaac found that he could not sleep. He’d paced the halls for a while, then his feet took him to Tommy’s nursery door.
Inching it open, the light from the hallway fell across the little boy’s bed. Charlotte lay beside him, curled up on top of the covers. Her eyes were open and distinctly watchful, and she mechanically smoothed Tommy’s hair back from his forehead.
“Hang?” Isaac repeated. “Matthew, you mean?”
She nodded. “What he did was wrong, but I am not sure he deserves to hang. He never meant Tommy any harm; he only wanted to replace his brother, I think. A large part of me pities him.”
