Page 118 of The Viscount and the Vixen
“Tired and weak, but the physician says that’s to be expected. She’s sleeping now.”
“I’ve heard it’s easier with the next one.”
But Locke was still bothered by his earlier reaction, was rather certain he understood the reason for it. “When did you realize the truth about her child?”
His father had the good graces to look uncomfortable. “Shortly after we learned she was with babe. She was showing too soon, increasing too fast.”
“Yet you held your silence.”
“I didn’t want to interfere with your developing relationship. When did you realize it?”
“While we were in London.”
“Do you know who the father is?”
“I’m the father.”
The older man smiled. “Jolly good for you.”
Locke leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs, his glass clasped between his hands. “You wanted an heir. Why didn’t you say something?”
“I wanted you to find love. Gaining my heir was an excuse.”
“And if she’d had a boy?”
“Love is more important. Which I think you came to realize.”
He’d come to realize it was the only thing.
Portia opened her eyes, striving to ignore the aches and discomfort. It had all been worth it.
“You’re awake.”
Glancing in the direction of Locksley’s voice, she saw him sitting in the chair by the window, cradling their daughter bundled in swaddling in his arms. “How is she?”
“As beautiful as her mother.”
At that moment, she suspected she looked quite a fright, nowhere near beautiful. He rose, approached, and without her saying a word, placed the child in her waiting arms. The joy that swept through her with the weight of the small body nestled to her breast nearly made her weep. “How can she be so small yet cause so much trouble?”
“You’re not particularly large.”
“Are you claiming I cause trouble?”
“An abundance of it.” His smile was warm. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired, but happy. I want to name her Madeline. I thought it would please your father, but you know the truth of her, and if it would upset you or not be a proper homage to your mother, I’ll call her something else.”
“The truth of her, Portia, is that she is yours, and therefore she is mine. That is the only truth that matters. To name her after my mother will please my father... and me as well.” He tipped his head to the side, gave his lips an ironic twist. “And my mother’s ghost, no doubt.”
“We could call her Maddie.”
Leaning down, he bussed a quick kiss over her lips. “We shall do that.” Straightening, he studied her and she had the sense that something was troubling him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, but you should be aware that he knows. My father. He figured out that it wasn’t I who planted the seed, but I’m not going to tell him who did as it’s not important.”
“Does he hate me?”
