Page 29 of The Duke and his Hellion
Hugh looked up at his sister, a rare smile gracing his features. “Would ye like to hold him, Abby?”
With trembling hands, Abigail took the precious bundle, marveling at how light he was, how perfectly he fit into her arms. The baby yawned, his tiny fist waving in the air, and Abigail felt a surge of love so strong it nearly took her breath away.
“Hello, little one,” she whispered, gently rocking him. “I am your Aunt Abigail. We're going to have such wonderful adventures together, you and me.”
“Have you decided on a name?” she asked, looking up at Hugh and Harriet.
Harriet nodded, her eyes shining with joy. “We're calling him Graham, after your father.”
“Graham,” Abigail repeated, smiling down at the baby. “It suits him perfectly.”
As she stood there, holding her nephew and surrounded by the warmth of her family's love, Abigail felt her earlier worries begin to fade. Tomorrow would bring what it would, but today, in this room, all was right with the world.
“He truly is perfect,” Abigail said, reluctantly handing Graham back to Harriet. “You must be exhausted, though. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Harriet shook her head, stifling a yawn. “Just having you here is enough, Abby. Though perhaps you could run interference with any callers? I am not quite up to receiving visitors just yet.”
“Of course,” Abigail agreed readily. “I'll make sure you're not disturbed.” She paused, then added hesitantly, “Actually, I... I may have a caller of my own tomorrow. The Duke of Grouton.”
Hugh's head snapped up at this, his earlier contentment replaced by a look of concern. “Grouton? Why would he come and visit so quickly again?”
Abigail swallowed hard, steeling herself. “I've asked him to call. There are... matters we need to discuss. About our engagement.”
Hugh opened his mouth, likely to protest, but Harriet laid a hand on his arm. “I think that's wise, Abby,” she said softly. “You two have much to talk about, I am sure.”
Abigail nodded gratefully, relieved at Harriet's understanding. “Thank you. I... I should let you rest now. I'll be downstairs if you need anything.”
As she left the room, closing the door softly behind her, Abigail could not help but wonder if she too would one day experience the joy she saw now in Harriet. Would she hold her own son or daughter in her arms? Would the baby look like her or like Charles?
A blush rose to her cheeks at the mere thought of it and she shook her head. There was no time to think of it now — the first thing she had to do was face Charles.
CHAPTER16
Charles sat in his usual leather armchair at the club, a glass of brandy untouched before him. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes distant as he stared into the crackling fire. The usual hum of conversation in the club seemed muted, far away, as his thoughts churned.
Despite his demeanor indicating otherwise, he was overly aware of Joseph's eyes on him. Charles knew full well that Joseph had known him long enough to recognize the signs of his brooding. With a sigh, Joseph set down his own drink and leaned forward.
“Alright, out with it,” Joseph said, his tone filled with exasperated concern. “What's got you looking like you've swallowed a lemon?”
Charles sighed deeply then shook his head, taking care to avoid his friend's gaze. He glanced at Joseph, then back to the fire. “It's nothing,” he muttered, reaching for his brandy and taking a sip of the amber liquid that burned a path down his throat.
Joseph snorted. “Nothing, he says. Come now, Charles. I've known you since we were in short pants. You can't fool me.”
Charles took a long sip of his drink, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. He set the glass down with a soft clink, then looked at his friend. “It's... complicated.”
“Is it not always?” Joseph leaned back in his chair, a wry smile on his face. “Let me guess. It is about the girl. The one you're engaged to.”
Charles nodded reluctantly. “Abigail. Yes.”
“Do not tell me you are already having second thoughts, Grouton,” Joseph said, raising an eyebrow.
“No... yes... I do not know.” Charles ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. “It is complicated. I want to do right by her, Joseph. She doesn't deserve to have her reputation ruined because of me.”
Joseph nodded slowly. “Noble of you. But that's not all, is it?”
Charles was silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost a whisper. “I can't risk it. I can't let it happen again.”
Joseph leaned forward, his expression serious. “Charles, about what happened before?—”
