Richard’s jaw was clenched so hard that Victoria was afraid it might stay lodged like that. He turned to her with blazing eyes.
“Penwike knows,” he declared, to which she nodded. Her husband’s tone was terrifyingly flat. “It’s why he keeps on making an appearance. He isn’t merely trying to see if he can destroy my reputation. He knows he sired a child, and Lord knows what he will try to do with Melody.”
“The marquess knows Sophie had a child,” Martha said, her eyes alert with fear. “However, he didn’t know that she had a girl child. He wouldn’t have been certain.”
“What do you mean?” Victoria asked, leaning forward. Melody whimpered, and she had to rub the baby’s back to comfort her.
“When Sophie died, Penwike came to visit me. It seems that Sophie was right. The marquess had enough connections and men who could find her even in the narrowest alleys of Soho. I don’t know how he did it, but I don’t doubt that he has his ways. When he came, he was trying to act oh so polite, but there was something about him—something not quite right—that made it clear he wasn’t a good man.
“Did you tell him about Sophie’s child?” Richard asked.
“I told him that Sophie gave birth to a boy, and that he was too sickly because his mother had been ill during the latter part of the pregnancy. I told him that I had left the baby at an orphanage not long after he was born. I said that I didn’t even name the boy because he looked so frail, and even if he recovered, it would be best if his new family would give him a name.”
“But why an orphanage? Why that particular lie?” Richard sounded curious.
“Because babies are left at orphanages all the time, Your Grace. And after what Sophie told me of him, I reckoned he wouldn’t go searching for a needle in a haystack, nor would he ask anyone for help. And from what I gathered during our brief meeting, the very thought of trying to find a sickly little boy with no name, among all the others abandoned there, would have horrified him. He called me useless, but… I knew it was worth it.”
“You are right, Martha. It was worth it,” Victoria reassured through her growing nausea.
Richard stood up, then. He moved swiftly, taking over the space of the small one-room house. His presence felt heavier than when they arrived, expanding and towering. He walked toward the small window as if to inspect the alley where they would have to go out.
“They’re still there,” he muttered, referring to his men.
“Of course, they are,” Victoria replied, as she herself rose, more carefully, as she had the baby in her arms.
Melody looked tired, her eyes closing as she whimpered some more. She probably wanted to rest in her bassinet, and the duchess could not blame her.
Richard turned around and reached into the pocket of his coat, and pulled the purse he had been taking gold coins from. This time, he didn’t reach into it to take a few. Instead, he placed the purse on top of Martha’s table. The sound of the coins clinked heavily against each other. Victoria was aware that the amount would be large enough to support the seamstress for a long time.
“This is for your kindness to Sophie,” Richard declared. His voice was gentler now, as if he had managed to tame the emotions that were warring inside him. “It is also for your discretion. It helped protect Melody. We will not forget you for doing this, and you are always welcome at Hawksford whenever you need help or if you simply want to visit. The child you protected is now in our protection.”
“She is now our child,” Victoria added breathlessly, her chest feeling tight.
“Your Grace, you need not give me anything. I did not do it for money,” Martha pleaded.
“I know,” Richard reassured her. “However, you should think of yourself now. Find a better location for your shop and a bigger place to live. Find one that has bolts and possibly neighbors whowill not hesitate to come to your aid when the need arises. My men will also be patrolling this area until you decide to move.”
Melody stirred even though she had barely even closed her eyes. She reached her hand out to Martha. The seamstress placed the tip of her forefinger on the baby’s own. The little one giggled.
“Thank you, Martha,” Victoria said fervently. Again, she felt like bursting into tears. It was not like her at all. She was the tough Brighton girl. “You gave Melody the opportunity, and we’ll gladly give her as much as we can.”
They bid goodbye. When Victoria and Richard finally went out into the street, Soho felt colder than when they first came. How long had they been there?
The fog had thickened, and they were greeted with scents they had been trying to ignore earlier. They walked with long strides toward the carriage. They were quiet the whole time. The things they wanted to say could not be said out in the open.
As the carriage started rolling, Richard looked at Victoria from the seat across from hers. He still had not relaxed, and she could completely understand.
“Penwike will pay,” he said. “I will find a way to?—”
“No, please,” Victoria interrupted. “I can understand the need to protect and defend, but I don’t want you to focus on vengeance, Richard. For now, let us think of the blessing that we havereceived. She may have been a Penwike by blood, but she is more of a Bramer. I’d like to think so. Now, she is also fully a Brighton-Weston.”
Richard looked her in the eye. Then, he smiled, finally relenting. He reached for her hand, letting his thumb trace her whitened knuckles. She realized how tense she’d been. She finally relaxed with him, as Melody sighed happily.
“Melody is ours,” he whispered. It felt like a vow, one that Victoria would be holding on to.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Icannot stop thinking about Sophie,” Victoria confessed, as she and Richard sat near the nursery hearth.
