Lord Beaufort nodded, frowning ever so slightly. Tristan could hear the pitter-patter of footsteps behind him and guessed that Madeline was hurrying toward them, probably eager to hear what he was saying to her father. It was hard to blame her.
“I was not aware that you and my daughter were acquainted, Your Grace.”
Tristan let out a slow breath. Now was the time to break the news, he decided. He did not expect a very good reception, but that hardly mattered. Madeline arrived alongside him, out of breath. She scowled up at Tristan. He offered a wide, cheerful smile.
“About that, Lord Beaufort. I am, in fact, your daughter’s husband-to-be.”
There was a heavy silence.
“I beg your pardon?” Lord Beaufort managed.
He seemed a little tired and required the coachman’s help to get into Tristan’s high-sprung carriage. While he was clambering up, Madeline grabbed Tristan by the elbow and hauled him aside.
At least shetriedto haul him aside. Tristan merely humored her.
“What onearthdo you mean by saying such a thing to my father?” she hissed, red-faced. “Engaged indeed!”
“Your father seemed almost thrilled at the prospect,” Tristan shot back smoothly.
“That is because he thinks that marriage will make me happy. You had no right…”
“Marriage equals happiness? What a strange opinion to hold,” Tristan murmured, tilting his head. “And insociety, of all places.”
Madeline reddened further. “Do not change the subject. If you must know, my mother and father were exceptionally happy. Whatdoyou mean by telling my father that we are to be married? I cannot conceive why you would do such a thing!”
Tristan sighed. “Come now, Lady Madeline, you must admit that it is the obvious choice.”
“I will admit nothing of the sort.”
He leaned forward, catching her crisp green gaze and holding it. It occurred to him, quite out of nowhere, that it was rare indeed to find somebody withtrulygreen eyes. Plenty of people had green-blue eyes, or hazel eyes, but a proper grass-green color was rare.
He collected himself, swallowing down a sudden, intense desire to grip her by the chin again and turn those pretty eyes up toward him.
“The death of my brother and your friend has changed everything,” Tristan managed at last, feeling as though he had missed a beat. “Both of us are duty-bound to care for this baby, and neither of us is willing to concede.”
“I’m in!” Lord Beaufort called breathlessly. “Madeline, dearest, do hand that baby up to me. I would rather fancy a little cuddle. Babies of that age are so very sweet.”
Madeline wordlessly obliged, leaning up to gently transfer the baby into her father’s arms.
Adam, Tristan noted, had fallen asleep, clearly comfortable and safe in Madeline’s arms. Lord Beaufort held him with practiced ease, clucking fondly at the baby before leaning back into his seat and out of view.
Madeline turned back to Tristan, folding her arms tightly across her chest.
“You never mentioned a word to me about marriage,” she hissed.
“The idea is a newish one.”
“Hmph. Well, it’s a ridiculous idea.”
“Is it? How else are we to share the guardianship of this child? You want to raise him for the sake of your friend, and I want to raise him for the sake of my brother. We are barely even in London at the sametime, Lady Madeline. When we arrive in London, I shall want to go my way with the babe, and you’ll want to go yours. Do you suggest we take a leaf out of King Solomon’s book and slice the baby in two?”
She blanched. “Goodlord, Your Grace, don’t be vile! Anyway, King Solomon never intended to hurt the baby. He did all that only to make the real mother show herself.”
“I shall take your word for it.”
She sighed, passing a hand over her face. “Marriagecannot possibly be the solution here. There must be another way we can share Adam’s guardianship.”
He shrugged, turning toward the carriage. “If you can think of another solution, I’m all ears. We’ve got a long enough journey for you to consider it. We are going to have to share this child.”
