But if Viola was to be believed, Kirsty’s birth had been a straight-forward affair. She had faith that this next baby’s arrival would be the same.
Viola and Lady Isolde both bent to study a gilded copy of Mr. Coleridge’s poems, Beowoof now curled at their feet.
Seeing an opportunity, Ethan quickly brushed Allie’s lips with his. Instead of blushing or looking scandalized, his weeladragrasped his lapel and insisted on a decidedly more thorough kiss.
The tell-tale patter of Kirsty’s feet in the hallway forced Allie to release him.
“Laggie!” Kirsty burst through the parlor door, running headlong for Allie and setting Beowoof to yipping in excitement.
Allie had quickly become a tremendous favorite of his niece.
Malcolm and Viola had given up trying to teach Kirsty to pronounceLady Allegraproperly and had agreed thatLaggiewas the best their daughter could manage.
Scrambling onto the window seat, Kirsty crawled into Allie’s lap.
“Pocket?” she asked, eyes bright and curious.
This was a game they played—Kirsty begging to see what was in Allie’s pocket and Allie surprising Ethan’s niece with some unexpected trinket.
Today, Allie dug into her large pocket and pulled out a wee carved frog.
Kirsty clapped her hands and the two of them set to examining the small toy.
This,Ethan realized.
This was Lady Allegra Gilbert.
A woman surrounded by friends and family who adored her.
A woman who gave love and accepted it in equal measure.
Allie simply hadn’t realized it yet.
Kirsty slid off the window seat—giggling as Beowoof tried to lick her face—the frog clutched in her dimpled fist.
“Look, Mamma.” She raced to Viola and waved the toy under her mother’s nose. “Look. A fwog! Laggie gots a fwog.”
Viola, like all mothers everywhere, dutifully inspected the toy and made appropriately impressed noises.
Ethan took advantage of the distraction to wrap Allie’s hand in his.
Her returning look of contentment, eyes wide and shining, sang joy to his soul.
If only she would pull a love for him out of her pocket, as well.
Then his happiness would be complete.
But even that thought did not dim the joy that lingered long after Allie and Lady Isolde had taken their leave.
It still lingered the following morning when Ethan received a dire letter from his publisher, warning him that the Duke of Kendall had threatened to purchase and dismantle the publishing house if His Grace found Ethan’s behavior questionable.
Ethan had stared at the letter for a solid five minutes, trying to summon a sense of fear or outrage. Instead, love for Allie pulsed through him. She fought Kendall at every turn. Ethan would happily join her in that struggle, if only she would remain at his side.
Of course, on the heels of his publisher’s warning, Ethan received yet another letter from Uncle Leith demanding to know how things had progressed with Kendall and when Ethan would be returning to London.
The answers, clearly, werenot farandwhen Allie herself quits Muirford House.
Not the replies his uncle sought.
