“And those can take care of themselves,” he agreed. “I guess they’d have to. It would be hard not to spend every minute watching over my baby.”
“That’s impossible for anyone to do. You need sleep, for one. Plus, there are clients who need your help with missions.”
“You see my conundrum.”
“You could hire a nanny,” she suggested.
“I want an army of nannies. Round-the-clock shifts. Armed with playthings and sweetmeats.”
“So you have thought about it. Presumably, this theoretical baby would not drop into your arms from a crane or spring forth from the sea?”
“A wife. Yes. One does tend to lead to the other.” He tilted his head. “Unless I were to adopt, which I am not opposed to. Our home does have an awful lot of empty bedchambers to fill.”
“You wish to avoid marriage altogether?”
“Not at all,” he said softly. “I would very much like a wife. Whether she’d want…”
The carriage stopped suddenly, throwing them off-balance.
He turned toward the window. “What in the… Why, the duke’s coach just stopped in front of ours! His driver halted so abruptly, our horses nearly trampled into their wheels. What the devil is Faircliffe about?”
“We arrived at the same time,” said Viv. “Maybe he didn’t see us behind him. Is the door to their home wide open? I see—”
Chloe.
The Duchess of Faircliffe was up ahead. She’d fled from her house in stocking feet with her infant clutched in her arms, her face pale as milk and her brown eyes wild.
Viv scrambled from the carriage as fast as she could, with Jacob right behind her.
“Chloe,” she called out. “Are you all right?”
A foolish question. The duchess was very far from all right.
Faircliffe was faster, sprinting across the grass to gather his wife and baby in his arms. He was clearly as lost as Viv and Jacob were, but he wrapped his arms around Chloe and pressed a kiss to the top of her bare head, his face confused and his eyes afraid.
A maid trudged out the door, sobbing, a valise in her hand and her gaze never leaving her shoes.
“Chloe, what’s going on?” Faircliffe murmured, his tone calm but urgent. “Where’s Hastings?”
“He quit his post,” said the maid without looking up. “I was dismissed from mine.”
“Hastingsquit?” Faircliffe goggled at the maid. “He’s been butler here since I was a child. Chloe, darling, please. What on earth has happened?”
“Take Dory,” she mumbled. “Hold him tight.”
Faircliffe did as instructed. Viv and Jacob flanked his sides.
“This is what happened.” Chloe pulled a folded piece of parchment from her bosom. The paper rattled in her shaking fingers as she handed it to Viv. “You read it. I can’t look at that again.”
The two men crowded over Viv’s shoulders as she unfolded the note.
You’re lucky the cradle was empty.
If you don’t want it to stay that way,
no more rhetoric about voting reform.
Viv’s mouth fell open.
