Beatrice looked away, giving them privacy, though her own eyes stung fiercely. She stood close enough to offer support if Lady Amelia faltered.
She didn’t. For once, the young woman seemed held up by something stronger than fear—love, fierce and aching.
Beatrice’s heart swelled with a mix of love and impending loss. Pip had woven herself into her life with such ease.
She reached out absentmindedly, smoothing the edge of Pip’s blanket. She swayed a little with habit, even though the baby was no longer in her arms.
After a few moments, she glanced toward the doorway. Edward was gone.
She drew a slow breath and looked back at Lady Amelia, who was lowering her forehead to the baby’s tiny one. The nursery was quiet except for her soft, rhythmic sniffles.
After a long moment, she whispered, “Thank you… for giving her what I couldn’t.”
Beatrice swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “She found her way here,” she said gently. “The least I could do was love her until she found her mother again.”
CHAPTER 23
Edward stepped back quietly from the doorway, the sound of Lady Amelia’s soft crying and Beatrice’s low, soothing voice following him into the corridor. He lingered only long enough to draw a steady breath, then turned toward the stairs.
Finding Simon could not wait.
He descended quickly, shrugging on his coat as he crossed the hall. Hargreaves appeared to ask whether he needed the carriage, but Edward dismissed him with a curt shake of his head.
“No. I’ll manage.”
The front door closed behind him with a muted thud.
Seeing Beatrice’s arms fit around the child as though they had never known another place had made his jaw tighten. He hadwatched as Lady Amelia’s tears rolled down her cheeks, her entire world gathered in that small bundle, and his guts twisted.
For weeks, he had chased the answers to the questions that formed the foundation of his marriage. Tonight, the truth had walked straight into his house and laid itself bare.
This changed everything.
Lady Amelia’s arrival had turned uncertainty into obligation. Not just for her, but also for Simon.
Edward quickened his pace as he walked in the starless night, his resolve hardening with each step. There would be no more excuses. No more hiding behind their fathers’ names or Society’s indulgence.
Simon would face what he had done. He would take full responsibility publicly, and Edward would see to it.
He reached Simon’s townhouse within minutes. He didn’t bother knocking gently.
The butler opened the door at once. “Your Grace.”
“Where is he?”
“In the drawing room, Your Grace. He returned not long ago.”
Edward strode past him, the crackle of a fire and the clink of a glass guiding him.
Simon sat slouched in an armchair, staring at a near-empty tumbler, his coat discarded over the back of the chair, his waistcoat undone. Not drunk—Edward knew the difference—but unsettled.Deeply.
He looked up when Edward entered. “Well,” he drawled, “you’ve found me.”
Edward didn’t waste a moment. “Get your coat.”
Simon blinked. “Ed?—”
“Now.”
