“Oh, Your Grace. What fun we are having.” She sighed and pulled away.
He also sat up. “Indeed we are.”
“It does my heart good to see you this way.” She glanced at Adam and tousled his hair. “When Adam laughs, he looks just like you.”
Trevor’s laughing stopped suddenly, and she met his wide eyes. For a moment his expression flashed anger, but then quickly changed to confusion.
“Your Grace? Did I say something wrong?”
Deep in her heart she hoped she hadn’t messed up—again. But what else could explain the sudden change in his countenance?
Chapter Nineteen
Shock vibrated throughTrevor’s brain, numbing him for a brief moment. He couldn’t possibly have heard Louisa correctly.
“What?” He glanced from her to Adam, then back to Louisa.
“Did… did I say something wrong? Are you feeling well?” She leaned closer and touched his forehead. Her gaze narrowed from worry. “You lost the color in your face.”
“You think Adam looks… like me?”
Louisa blinked as confusion wrinkled her forehead and around her eyes. Of course she wouldn’t know he doubted her opinion, and at this point, he wasn’t about to explain why. Trevor didn’t need her pity.
“Of course he does,” she said, pulling Adam beside her as she studied his face. “He might not have your hair or eye color, but his nose slopes like yours does—” she ran her finger along the angle of Adam’s nose—“and his lips are shaped like yours.”
She smiled at Adam, making him giggle, before meeting Trevor’s hard stare. He loved watching how tender she was with the twins.
“Not only that,” she continued, “but when you both laugh, your eyes twinkle the same way—like stars glimmering in a cloudless night’s sky. And…” she scooted closer to Trevor—“when you laugh hard enough, both of you have a cute little dimple right here.” She stroked the skin on Trevor’s chin where he knew his dimple flashed on occasion.
When she moved her hand away, he slowly lifted his finger to the spot she’d just left. Louisa’s touch was so sweet. So warm. He loved the way she touched him. He had since the first day they met.
“In fact,” she said, taking Amanda and pulling her closer, “once in a while Amanda’s dimple makes its debut, but not as often as Adam’s.” She smiled wide and stroked the little girl’s chin.
Trevor remained silent as he studied the twins. Could Louisa be correct? He’d never thought the children looked anything like him. They took more after their mother. Yet now that Louisa had made him think about the similarities…
Good heavens.Now that Trevor could actually see the boy’s features, Adam bore a striking resemblance to Trey when he was a small child.
Realization pounded in Trevor’s head, along with the extra flow of blood heading to his brain. The guilt-stricken throb started in his skull and churned his stomach. Could he have been wrong all this time?
Trevor jumped to his feet and stumbled backward, rubbing his temple as guilt knocked so hard he feared it would create another hole in his head.
“Your Grace,” Louisa gasped as she lunged for him, still on her knees. “What’s wrong?”
“I—I—I need some time to myself to think. Please excuse me.” He turned away and hurried up the hill toward the manor, praying Louisa wouldn’t come after him and beg for an explanation.
Memories from when the children were born rushed through the cobwebs of his mind, and his headache grew. When the doctor had allowed Trevor into Gwen’s room that glorious day he learned he’d become a father of twins, his wife had been propped up against the headboard, holding the most beautifulchildren he’d ever seen. The image was as clear now as it had been that day. She gazed upon the twins with love in her eyes. His mother chatted happily, cooing over the babes, pointing out how much they looked like Trevor when he was born. Suddenly Gwen’s countenance changed and the loving emotion in her eyes disappeared. Trevor remembered wondering why she’d had such a dark, forlorn look on her face as if she’d longed for something she could never have.
Now he knew why. Shehadwanted Adam and Amanda to be Putney’s children.
Joy burst in Trevor’s chest as he ran into the house and straight for his study. He shoved the doors closed behind him, then hurried to the liquor tray for a glass of brandy to help relieve the pain in his head. Swallowing the amber liquid was hard because of the lump in his throat. Tears burned in his eyes that had nothing to do with the liquor.
He caught his reflection in the mirror and turned to fully gaze at himself. Shame washed over him. Guilt gnawed at his gut like a terminal disease for the way he’d treatedhischildren when he doubted their parentage. He’d withdrawn himself from them after their mother had died, when he should have been closer to them, and comforting them for their loss.
Sinking into the nearest chair, he allowed the tears to fall. He’d gone from being the most loving father—to the worst. What kind of deranged father abandons his children in their time of need? Adam and Amanda couldn’t possibly have understood what was going on during that time, or why they couldn’t see their mother again.
He gulped down the rest of the brandy, nearly scalding his throat. He pushed the sting aside. He deserved the pain—and more for what he did to his wonderful children.
My children!
