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Olivia insisted, "Desperation excuses a great deal, though perhaps not horse theft."

Yet somewhere in the middle of their exchange, Olivia glanced down and fell silent. The baby's tiny eyes had closed. His breathing had become soft and even, and one miniature hand rested against the fabric of her gown.

Her heart ached. He was asleep.

Olivia looked at his little face, at the strange marking along his cheek and neck, and suddenly she was no longer standing on a lonely road with a duke she had met that evening. She was back in her childhood bedroom, listening to Louiza whisper through the darkness.

We will never abandon one another.

The promise had been made when they were frightened girls, but Olivia had carried it inside her ever since. She had climbed out windows, defied their mother, and followed her sister across half the country because abandoning Louiza had never been an option.

Her gaze lowered to the baby again. Somehow, without her quite understanding when it had happened, the promise had changed. It included him now.

"He has no one," she whispered, stroking one finger gently over his tiny hand.

James said nothing. Olivia swallowed against the ache in her throat and looked at the child as though making a solemn vow.

"We cannot abandon him either."

She did not yet know whether she could marry the Duke of Glenmore. She did not know whether his proposal was madness or providence, or whether she would regret it terribly. But she knew one thing with absolute certainty.

This little boy has been unwanted once today, and he will not be unwanted again.

Olivia could not bring herself to look away from the baby. A fierce protectiveness had taken hold of her, so sudden and powerful that it frightened her almost as much as the infant’s abandonment did. She had known the boy for scarcely a few minutes, yet the thought of leaving him anywhere, even for a moment, made something inside her recoil.

Still, beneath that fierce instinct was another thought, quieter but impossible to ignore.

What if this has been an accident? What if his mother has been forced to leave him for some desperate reason? What if his parents are searching for him at this very moment, running along the roads and calling his name?

Olivia looked toward the empty stretch of countryside and swallowed. "We cannot simply decide that he has been abandoned," she said, stroking the baby’s cheek with one careful finger. "What if his parents are looking for him as we speak?"

James’s expression softened slightly as he considered her words. "Then we shall find out."

He stepped closer, his attention moving from Olivia to the sleeping infant. "I will have my people investigate. They will search the surrounding villages, speak with the local magistrate, enquire at inns and farms, and discover whether anyone has reported a missing child with such an obvious mark."

Olivia felt some of the tension leave her shoulders, though she did not loosen her hold on the baby.

"And until then?" she asked, watching him closely.

James’s voice became quiet and firm. "Until then, I will keep him hidden and safe."

Olivia frowned. "Hidden?" "If someone abandoned him deliberately, I have no intention of allowing them to discover where he has been taken until I know precisely why he was left." He paused, then added, "And if my suspicions are confirmed, I will need a wife."

Olivia blinked. "You do seem remarkably determined to acquire one."

James gave her a dry look. "I have discovered that being without one is becoming inconvenient."

She almost laughed, but the baby shifted in her arms, reminding her that this was not merely some ridiculous conversation between two strangers.

James continued, "Once I know the truth, he will need a home. More importantly, he will need a family that can claim him openly. You would become my wife, and you would raise him as your own child."

His gaze held hers. "Our child."

The words struck Olivia strangely.

Our child.

She looked down at the sleeping boy and imagined him in a nursery at some grand estate, surrounded by servants and warmth instead of lying abandoned beside a road. The image was comforting, even if the circumstances that had created it were utterly mad.