Page 120 of Stolen and Seduced By the Duke

"When Augusta fled Ravenfield," Ophelia continued, "she came to me."

Margaret glanced towards Pierce, and his expression had become utterly still. "I cared for her until her last day. She was anxious almost all the time, and she was very unwell. There were moments when I could not leave her alone for long because I feared she might hurt herself." Ophelia's voice trembled. "There were also times when I feared she might hurt Hugh without meaning to. She loved him, but her mind was not always her own. She did not want you contacted at all to learn about the child."

Margaret's heart ached as she imagined Augusta frightened and struggling, carrying a child while unable to trust her own thoughts.

"But she always said something about Hugh," Ophelia continued, glancing towards Pierce. "She said he was nothing like her own father, but was rather like his own father, the Duke."

Pierce's brow furrowed. "What did she mean?"

Ophelia hesitated, then answered gently, "In her own way, she meant that you were far from cruel as her own father had been to her."

The words seemed to strike Pierce with greater force than Margaret expected. He stared at Ophelia, silent. Margaret realized with a sudden ache that this was perhaps the first time he had ever heard those words from someone who had known Augusta after she left him.

Pierce lowered his gaze, and Margaret reached across the space between them to take his hand. He looked at her, and she gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. There were still wounds in him that might never entirely disappear, but perhaps today one of them had finally begun to heal.

Margaret turned towards Ophelia and smiled warmly. "Then you are most welcome here," she said.

Ophelia looked startled. "Your Grace?" Margaret rose and crossed to her, taking her hand. "You are Hugh's aunt. That makes you family." Her smile widened as she studied Ophelia's face more closely. "And now that I have seen you, I think Hugh actually resembles you a little."

Ophelia's eyes filled with tears, and Margaret squeezed her hand. "So there is no need to look as though you are waiting to be turned away. You have been alone long enough."

For the first time, Ophelia smiled, and Margaret knew that the mysterious stranger Pierce had brought home was not a threat to their family at all. She was another piece of it.

After everything Margaret had learned that morning, the idea of Hugh having an aunt who had loved and cared for him as her own before he came to Ravenfield felt less like another complication and more like a gift.

Ophelia glanced towards Pierce, then back at Margaret, gathering her courage. "May I see Hugh?" she asked softly. "If you think it is proper, of course." Her voice trembled slightly as she added, "It broke my heart to surrender him, but I loved him so much that I could not refuse him the life he should rightfully have as the heir to a duke. But it broke me to not see him everyday after being the one to raise him for a year. I love him. I truly do."

Margaret felt her heart ache at the confession. She looked towards Pierce, expecting some hesitation, but he merely nodded.

"Yes," he said quietly, rising from his chair. "You may see him."

Ophelia's relief was immediate, though she still looked uncertain as she stood.

Margaret smiled at her and offered her hand. "Come along," she encouraged, squeezing her fingers gently. "He will be delighted to see you."

Together they left the parlor, with Pierce walking beside them, and Margaret found herself thinking how extraordinary the morning had become. Only hours earlier she had feared losing her husband and child, and now she was walking towards the nursery with a woman who had been part of Hugh's life long before Margaret had ever known his name.

The moment they entered the nursery, Hugh looked up from his toys. His eyes immediately fixed upon Ophelia, and his whole face transformed with recognition. He gave a delighted squeal and reached both arms towards her.

Ophelia stopped dead, one hand flying to her mouth as tears filled her eyes.

"Oh, Hugh," she whispered, rushing towards him.

She scooped him into her arms and hugged him tightly, burying her face against his soft hair as Hugh laughed and clung to her.

"I have missed you so much," she murmured, kissing his cheek again and again. "Look at you. You are so healthy and happy."

She pulled back to study him, smiling through her tears, and then glanced nervously towards Margaret as though afraid she had overstepped some invisible boundary.

"It is safe," Pierce assured her, his voice gentle as he approached. "You need not be afraid."

Ophelia nodded, visibly relaxing, and Hugh reached up to touch her face.

Margaret watched them with an unexpected warmth spreading through her chest. She had worried that seeing Ophelia with Hugh might awaken some instinctive jealousy, some fear that the child would prefer the woman who had first cared for him, but there was none. Instead, Margaret felt grateful. Hugh had another person who loved him, and that could only be a blessing. She crouched beside them and touched his little hand.

"He remembers you," she said softly.

Ophelia smiled. "I believe he does. He has always had an excellent memory."