“He who?” My heart beat hard. Mr. Marks had changed his mind. “My barrister? What a lovely surprise.”
“No, it’s Wycliff, and he’s carrying a bouquet of daisies. Did you invite him, Ruth? I thought you banished him.”
Chucking Marks’s note on the table, I craned my neck to see what Ester saw, but these old lenses showed nothing but blurs. “I didn’t invite him.”
Mama rose from her chair and balled up her project. She jabbed her needles deep inside the wool. “I accepted his invitation. He’s here for me and Christopher.”
Ester and I weren’t twins. A few years separated us, as did our differences in height and Shakespeare and knitting, but we looked at each other with identical mouths, wide-openOs.
Clancy announced the baron and led him into the parlor.
I fiddled with my spectacles to get a good look at him.
He made a slight nod in my direction but went straight to Mama.
She held her hand out to the exquisite man.
Buff breeches, a chocolate-brown coat, and ebony-colored waistcoat embroidered with indigo stars—why did he have to look so well and be here, when all I had was a note?
“Mrs. Bexeley, Mrs. Wilky.” He bowed to us but then turned again to my mother. “These are for you, Mrs. Croome. Are you and my little cousin ready?”
“Yes, Mrs. Fitterwall is getting Christopher dressed. He’s been jumping up and down all morning since I told him.”
“Come, Ester, help me catch our little frog.”
Ester’s head swiveled between Mama’s and mine. The girl lifted her hands to send me some sort of signal, but everyone did as Mama wanted. Ester followed Mama, almost dragging from the room.
The baron and I were alone.
I counted to three, pinned a smile to my lips. “I thought we had an understanding, Lord Wycliff.”
He flopped into Mama’s chair. “Yes. You made it clear that you want nothing romantic between us.”
I tucked away a confession of thinking of sending for Wycliff. “Then why are you here?”
“I promised the boy to teach him the proper way to chase frogs. I keep my promises.”
“You said that to cheer him up from his fright.”
“No. I said it because I meant it. That boy bears Adam’s name. He’s my heir until I marry and am fortunate to be blessed with a son.”
A son? I hadn’t thought of that.
“I’ve publicly declared that you are Adam’s widow. There are expectations that come with that responsibility. I’m not ignorant of this. Nor do I take the responsibility lightly.”
I hadn’t thought of that, either. “Oh.”
“And until the other half of the registry is found, I should act in a manner that supports our claims. I am tending to my heir, Adam’s son.”
I rubbed my temples. I’d completely missed these notions. My cheeks flushed with shame. I should not have discounted Wycliff’s commitment to my son.
Mama returned with Christopher dressed in a hat and green pinafore that almost matched my dress.
Lord Wycliff bowed to the boy. “Are you ready to go, young man?”
“Gama says you and my daddy were friends.”
Big tall Wycliff bent down to the child’s level. “Yes. The best of friends. It’s a pleasure to know his son.”
