Mrs. Weatherby’s face blanched. “Oh, sir. How callous of me. I didn’t mean to imply...”
“Think nothing of it.” He rose. He needed to remove himself. To pull himself together and ponder what Mrs. Weatherby had said. “I think I’ll stretch my legs and take a stroll in the gardens by the lake.”
Honoria glanced up from where Mr. Beckham had told one ofhis nonsensical stories, no doubt. Laughter from the happy couples grated against Colin’s skin like metal shards.
“Colin?” Honoria’s expression grew concerned. “Are you ill?”
He shook his head; the word stuck in his throat like day-old porridge.No.If only he did feel ill. At least he’d feelsomethinginstead of this persistent, unrelenting numbness.
Childish laughter echoed on the soft summer breeze, and he rounded the corner of the house, hoping to see his daughters happily at play.
He was not disappointed—exactly.
At the edge of the lake, Cassie and Ellie raced after Burwood’s new pup. Ashton’s sons, Montgomery’s daughters, and Weatherby’s twins joined them. It would have been a welcome sight had it not been for one other member of the party.
Skirts pulled up to her calves, Miss Weatherby romped along with them, her own laughter melding with the children’s and slipping over his skin like a gentle caress.
They all appeared so happy, so carefree, as the puppy yipped and ran between their legs, eluding every attempt to catch it.
Unbidden, he touched his chest and smoothed the strange squeezing sensation. When had his daughters last been so happy? Ellie even appeared healthier, her cheeks flushed pink from exertion.
There had been little joy in their lives since Margery had died. God knows, he didn’t help matters with his own sullen moods and repressed guilt. As Margery had wasted away with consumption, Colin found himself disappearing with her.
Alice Weatherby’s words accused him anew. He was a shell of the man he had been before. Alive on the outside but dead inside.
But something stirred to life within him as he watched the vivacious woman play with his daughters. So full of life, so exuberant and joyful. Good medicine for his girls, who had suffered too much in their young lives.
They needed a mother, and he needed an heir. Perhaps it was time for him to join the land of the living and find a wife.
CHAPTER 8
Anne bent over, trying her best to catch her breath. Perhaps she wasn’t as young as she thought. Flash’s tail wagged, his little bottom in the air. Was the pup taunting her to continue her pursuit?
Sneaking up from behind, Ellie scooped the puppy up in her arms. “I got him!”
Anne smiled at the girl’s enthusiasm. In truth, Anne was more than pleased it had been the youngest and seemingly frailest of the girls to capture the rambunctious pup, although Anne suspected her eldest sister and the other children had made allowances.
Subtle sadness, hidden beneath the surface but still palpable, muted the sparkle in Ellie’s eyes. Cassandra’s as well, and Anne’s heart broke for the two motherless girls.
“Well . . . done, Ellie!” Anne managed the congratulations in-between panting breaths.
Ellie cradled the squirming puppy and gave him a kiss on his wet nose.
Anne laughed, not wishing to tell the girl that very kissable nose had no doubt poked its way into a variety of disgusting items.
Cassandra petted the pup’s head. “I do hope Papa allows us to have a puppy of our own.”
Anne very much doubted that possibility, but she didn’t want to dash the girls’ hopes. “What would you call him or her?”
Ellie pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, her expression growing serious. Her eyes popped open. “I know! Floppy! It could work for a boy or a girl.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Sounds like a name for a rabbit.”
“I like it,” Indira said.
Anne always appreciated Indira’s kind heart, never more than at that moment as Ellie’s face brightened.
“Auntie Anne,” Eleanor said, “do you think our papa will let us have one?”
