“Take it as a learning moment, Your Grace,” Mrs. Hughes soothed.
The second attempt was much better, and the baby was able to drink to her heart’s content. The win made Victoria feel a lot better about herself. She normally did very well in all the things she attempted out of pure instinct and talent. It might be the first one she had to put much effort into.
However, as the baby started settling down, her thoughts turned to Richard once more. She could still feel his mouth on hers, even if she didn’t touch it.
The kiss. The kiss.
Oh, why did she have to think about it all the time?
Richard was just as bent on forgetting about it through activity. He and Jonathan had been engaged in a tedious hunt for Melody’s identity. In a world full of gossip, it was a surprisingly difficult task.
“Not from this register,” the duke muttered, slamming a church book shut.
They had picked the less dusty registers, seeing that Melody was likely only a couple of months old.
“Patience, Hawksford,” Jonathan advised, seemingly too calm and collected for such a tiring task. “Illegitimacy can never be tidy. Too many secrets.”
“So, why are we even looking for answers in the most likely places?” Richard grumbled.
Still, they continued their pilgrimage to churches. They even questioned some willing priests about babies that were christened not too long ago. They asked about names and details that could be linked to the mysterious child in the duke’s home.
The struggle was physical and internal. Richard swore some of the priests had begun looking at them with suspicion, but he’d offer a bit of donation to sweeten the deal.
Whenever he was caught off guard, his mind would turn back to the uncorseted body of his lovely wife. Yes, he had the right to admit that. He could remember the warmth of her mouth on her lips.
What had she done to him?
“Uh, if you are not careful, you will walk into that wall,” his friend noted, steering him away from the offending brick. “You are horribly distracted. Don’t argue. We know why.”
“Well, let us focus on the priority. The baby.”
“If you say so. Perhaps one more church will enlighten your mind?”
So, they headed to the last church on their lists. It was a humble stone structure near the docks, not one that would catch Richard’s attention normally. The two ambled into it, not expecting much of anything. But it seemed that they were finally in luck.
“A Melody was christened here three weeks ago,” the priest declared, tracing a line on his book with a finger.
“Who are her mother and father?” Richard asked, as he felt his blood run cold.
“Er, the column is blank, Your Grace,” the priest admitted, looking guilty. “The mother insisted on discretion. I took pity on her because she looked so frightened, but wanted to do right with her child.”
“Can you give me any more details about her? Appearance? Name?” the duke pressed, finally feeling his body alert.
“She was with an older, quiet woman. You can say she was chosen for her discretion. Her name was Mrs. Tallow.”
Finally, a solid lead. Richard exhaled audibly, threading his fingers into his hair as he and Jonathan exchanged a glance. He then pressed a large amount of money into the priest’s hand.
“Thank you, Your Grace! It will go a long way here in the parish. As you can see, the church needs a lot of help.”
Richard and Jonathan left, feeling lighter. The former returned to Hawksford House, trying to use Mrs. Tallow’s name to ward off other thoughts, such as those of his own wife.
Richard was fully aware of the mistake he was making. He was supposed to seek her out and speak to her about the lead. She deserved to know. However, the memory of their last encounter was still fresh in his mind.
He would talk to her, but not tonight. He needed to focus on finding Mrs. Tallow.
Chapter Eight
“What am I doing wrong?” Victoria muttered.
