Unfocused eyes blinked up at her, and it took a moment for recognition to set in. His lips closed and he sat up, brushing a hand through his hair. He looked around the room and suddenly became aware of his surroundings. Then he stood up and wrapped her in his arms. “My apologies, darling. I did not mean to fall asleep. How is Her Grace?”
“Don’t you mean, how is His Grace?”
Joshua frowned, his brows drawing together until the meaning of her words sunk in and a brilliant but sleepy smile lit up his face. “It’s a boy?”
“Edward Xavier Blair Hancock was born about thirty minutes ago.”
“And Her Grace, she’s doing well?”
“She is perfect.”
“She told me it was a boy. I just didn’t think things would work out so well for her. I mean, I had hoped that they would, but I’ve been surrounded by so much bad news of late, I guess I just didn’t have faith in it.”
It was Phoebe’s turn to frown. “What bad news?”
He stepped away from her and ran a hand over his face. “The reason I came to Caerlaverock in the first place was to ask you to accompany me to Astley’s estate in Hawick.”
“Now? I can’t go now. You know I can’t leave Iseabail. She needs me. Why in the world would I possibly leave her during the holidays when she just gave birth?”
“Because I know the Countess of Astley was good to you during your first season and she’s going to need you now more than ever.”
The deep sense of calm she’d been feeling moments ago slipped into foreboding at the serious tone of his voice. It could only mean one thing. “Astley? Is he…?” She couldn’t say the words because the Earl of Astley was the most irksome, obnoxious, joyous and fun-loving person she’d ever met. He’d also been responsible for saving the young life of Iseabail’s sister when bandits ambushed her and her husband on their honeymoon. Caillen’s husband had not survived the attack and it had taken Caillen months to recover.
Forrester shook his head. “He’s not dead, at least not that I know of, but he’s been kidnapped by the French and is being held for ransom by Napoleon himself.”
Seven
Dear Joshua,
It is no secret that I have viewed you as a son. I could never openly love my own child without destroying his future, and when Dickenson Mayer presented you as my new solicitor, how could my broken heart resist you as a surrogate? My loneliness, however, came at a cost to your reputation. You have kept my secrets over the years, and for that I am eternally grateful.
Since the moment I introduced you to the young Lady Drake to assist her with her financial affairs, I was aware of your infatuation. I have watched your love for her grow over the years, but I believe if I did not know you as well as I do, I would have never noticed your hidden admiration and longing for something more. Your regard for her and her station are admirable qualities, and to any other member of the working class, I would not encourage a suit.
Yet I am also quite close with Lady Drake as well, I apologize for the masculine pride of an old man that has hindered your path. Allowing you, and many others, to believe she was more than a confidant was wrong ofme. Lady Drake is, and will always be, a woman above reproach. Do not doubt what your heart is telling you. Lady Drake cares more deeply for you than she has any other living soul. Of that you can be certain.
It is up to you, dear boy, to win the lady. She has led a life of solitude for too long, and so have you. There has never been a couple more deserving of happiness than the two of you, and I pray you find the fortitude to break the boundaries of propriety and offer for the woman you love. As you know, I failed the woman I loved in life, and I hope to rectify that in death.
If you offer for the lady, I hope you will allow my duchess to give you a gift for the ceremony as a token of my love for the two of you and my blessings on your union.
With fatherly affection,
Nithesdale
—A letter to Mr. Joshua Forrester, Esquire, from Edward Charles Hancock, Duke of Nithesdale, written December 1810 a week before his death. A letter he gave to Joshua to open upon his death.
Phoebe walked into Iseabail’s room and smiled at her friend who snuggled with her newborn baby. The midwife was gone and the young mother had returned to her own bedchamber. Iseabail was in a fresh dressing gown that was pulled down over one shoulder as she nursed her son, the new Duke of Nithesdale.
“Are you truly not going to use a wet nurse at all?”
“No, my parents may not have been the best at planning for their children’s future, but I had a lovely childhood filled with laughter and love. I want my son to grow up experiencing those same warm family bonds, even if he won’t have a father to racein the meadow or teach him to hunt and fish. I plan to do all those things with him as my father did with his girls.”
“It doesn’t need to be that way, Iseabail. You can have more children. You can remarry.”
Iseabail’s chin quivered as she caressed her son’s black hair. “I will not risk his future or mine by putting doubt into the minds of the ton as to who should be the Duke of Nithesdale. Xavier is Edward’s son, but his previous heir will attempt to prove he is not and I don’t wish to give him any fuel to start any rumors.”
Phoebe decided to drop the subject for now. Iseabail was feeling protective of her newborn son, and that was a good emotion for her to have. “Other than fishing and hunting and running through the fields, what other unladylike things do you plan on sharing with Xavier? Don’t tell me you plan on cutting down your own Christmas tree?”
Iseabail smiled as she pulled Xavier from her breast and began patting his back as if she had done it her entire life. “I will not be wielding an ax, but I will teach him to use a pen so that he may write his own resolutions.”
