“What is it, Your Grace?” Mrs. Alridge inquired, baffled by her sudden burst of energy.
“Please ensure that little Catherine is fed, and that she stops crying. I have to go and pen an urgent letter.”
CHAPTER 5
Harriet sealed the letter, and called for Mrs. Alridge.
“You must make sure that this letter is delivered to my sister at the earliest notice,” she said, handing it over to her. “I have realized that taking care of the baby is something that is well outside my ambit of experience, and I need her assistance.”
Mrs. Alridge hesitated for a moment. “Your Grace, I do not mean to meddle but I do not believe that it is wise to let others know about the baby. If news is to get out, then it could raise questions about you.”
A frown pulled on Harriet’s lips. She had not even considered what it would look like to the outside world if they knew that a strange baby had been delivered to her doorstep. Surely, they would draw the same conclusions as she did, if not worse.
“I trust Esther with my life,” Harriet said. “I believe that she will keep the news to herself. Besides, I have not told her what the emergency is, only that I need her presence here at the estate.”
Mrs. Alridge nodded, although she did not seem completely convinced. “If that is what you have decided, then I shall make sure the letter reaches the duchess at the earliest.”
“But…” Harriet started, a new concern having sprouted in her mind, “to be safe, please instruct the staff that they are not to let the news get out of the walls of the estate. I understand now how this could go awry very quickly if it were to reach the wrong ears.”
“I shall do, Your Grace.”
Mrs. Alridge exited the study with the letter, and Harriet was left alone with her thoughts once again. She knew that she could perhaps tell Esther to keep things private, but what would she do if her mother was to show up at her door?
Hiding the baby was one possibility, but considering just how loudly she cried, it would be difficult to keep her secret entirely.
Harriet slumped back onto the sofa, sinking into it as she let out a deep sigh.
When the duke had left her to her own devices, she had assumed that perhaps childbirth was not on the cards for her. While it would be something that most women be devastated by,the thought did not bother Harriet as much. She had resolved herself to believe that a life with her own self could be sufficient, if not ideal.
Now, she had a baby to take care of. If it truly was Simons’ child — which he had denied outright, but she could not help but wonder still if there was some truth to it — he would not want to abandon it, surely. And given his busy lifestyle, the onus of childcare would fall upon her eventually.
In just a few days, her life had been turned upside down. Now, she had to plan everything from the beginning again.
Simon had retired to his bedchambers early that night, exhausted by a long day of travel. He told himself that he would begin investigation on the origin of the child early tomorrow, as there was little he could do anyway once night had fallen.
But, as he lay there on his bed, he tossed and turned, unable to get a lick of sleep. He had not anticipated this obstacle to arise, and the uncertainty of the situation filled him with unease.
Finally, after the stroke of midnight, he was able to fall asleep. But his slumber was short-lived, shattered by Catherine’s cries. Simon woke abruptly, the sound piercing through the silence of the night.
“Oh for heaven’s sake,”he muttered, irritated and got out of bed.
If he was going to get any sleep, it was best that he took matters into his own hands. Groggily rubbing his eyes, he followed the sound of the cries down the hallway, and into the nursery.
The door was cracked open slightly, indicating to him that he was not the only one who had been awoken by the disruption.
He entered the room quietly and found Harriet standing by the cradle, holding the baby.
“Hush, baby,” she whispered to her, rocking back and forth.
The sight caught Simon off-guard, and once again, stirred a strange feeling inside of him but he quashed it quickly.
“Harriet—” he started but was met with an urgent shushing.
“Don't make a sound,” she whispered, her voice firm.
Simon felt a flash of anger. No one ever spoke to him in such a manner. “You dare shush me?” he hissed back, keeping his voice low to avoid waking the baby.
Harriet shot him a warning look. “Yes, I dare. Do you want to wake her up again?”
