Page 23 of Stolen and Seduced By the Duke

Mrs Norris cleared her throat. "Perhaps he requires a softer tone."

Pierce looked at her. "I am speaking softly."

"For you, Your Grace," she replied. "Perhaps not for an infant."

Pierce sighed and tried again, lowering his voice until Hugh's crying gradually weakened.

He looked down at his son with a mixture of relief and guilt. "I am already failing you," he murmured. The words escaped before he could stop them.

Mrs. Norris's expression softened. "You have only had him for a few days," she reminded him gently. "You cannot expect to know everything immediately."

Pierce glanced at her. "I expect myself to know what is required."

"Then you shall be disappointed," she said matter-of-factly. "Children have a remarkable talent for refusing to follow expectations."

Pierce almost laughed.

He carried Hugh towards the window and looked out over the gardens. "I have already put out calls for a nanny," he said. "I expect someone suitable to begin as soon as possible."

Mrs Norris nodded. "I am happy to look after him until one is found."

Pierce turned towards her. "That is kind of you, but you have your household duties. The sooner we have a nanny, the better."

His gaze travelled around the nursery. "I will have order and discipline in this house. Hugh deserves both."

Mrs Norris gave him a knowing look. "I am certain he will be delighted to hear it."

Pierce ignored the remark. His mind had already returned to Margaret.

I have moved heaven and earth to find Hugh a mother as quickly as possible, and now the arrangement is nearly within reach. I had known precisely what he required and had acted accordingly. If the woman happens to be the same woman who had appeared at the masquerade dressed as the goddess Flora and begged me to help ruin her, that was merely circumstance. Nothing more.

Goddess Flora, he thought, remembering the bold woman behind the mask.

She wanted saving. He needed a duchess. Neither of them had the luxury of waiting. That was the only reason he had chosen Margaret.

At least, that was what Pierce told himself as Hugh finally settled against his chest, one tiny hand curling around his finger. He stared down at the boy, feeling something unfamiliar tighten in his chest. Perhaps he did not understand fatherhood yet, and perhaps he had no idea what sort of man he would become for Hugh, but one thing was certain.

I will find the answers. I will protect my son.

And he would make certain Margaret understood precisely what she was agreeing to before she entered Ravenfield as his wife.

* * *

Later that evening, Pierce stood beside the billiards table, studying the arrangement of the balls with the same concentration he might have given a military campaign. The evening had settled over Ravenfield, and the lamps cast a warm glow across the masculine room, illuminating the dark wood panelling, green baize, and shelves of decanters.

Across from him, Nathaniel leaned against the edge of the table with a glass of brandy in hand, watching his friend with the relaxed amusement of a man who had come expecting an ordinary evening. He had barely spoken to Pierce since the masquerade, and judging by his expression, he was still waiting for an explanation concerning the mysterious baby who had appeared in the house that night.

Pierce took his shot and sent the cue ball cleanly across the table. "I have proposed to Lady Margaret Wilmore."

Nathaniel inhaled at precisely the wrong moment and nearly choked on his brandy. He coughed violently, lowering the glass as he stared at Pierce.

"You have done what?"

Pierce calmly chalked the end of his cue. "I have proposed to Lady Margaret Wilmore, daughter of the Earl of Lempster."

"I heard the words," Nathaniel replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I am merely struggling to understand how they came out of your mouth."

Pierce glanced at him. "You are being dramatic."