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"There are several possibilities," he said. "Someone might be trying to use what happened in the past against me. When I was born. The circumstances surrounding my birth."

Hubert was silent for a moment before nodding. "I know about it," he said.

James looked back at him. "Yes, you do."

The knowledge should have made the matter easier, but somehow it did not. There were things James had spent years refusing to discuss, partly because they were painful and partly because he had never understood why anyone else believed they had a right to know them.

"And now," James continued, placing the note beside his plate, "there may be another little issue that people have decided to involve themselves in, as though it were any of their business."

Hubert's mouth curved slightly. "I suspect this has something to do with that peculiar assignment you gave me. Searching the surrounding villages for anyone looking for a missing baby."

James regarded him steadily. "It could be. I do not know for sure."

Hubert stared at him for a beat, then slowly put down his knife and fork.

"You found one. A baby that is?" Hubert asked.

"I did. Though I know I do not have to ask you to keep such a thing confidential, but I would like to remind you," James said.

"Of course, of course, nephew. You can trust me with anything. We are family. I am glad you have come to me with this matter," Hubert said. "Other people would turn this into scandal and that would not be good for the family name."

"Thank you, Uncle. I am relieved to hear you say such a thing. This child is a new development," James said.

"And he was truly abandoned?" Hubert asked.

"Completely, as far as I could tell. I found him in the fields the night of the ball. There was no one around to claim him. Now you have discovered through investigation that no one is missing a child or claiming to miss a child. I believe he was abandoned on purpose." James's voice softened despite himself. He could still see the infant lying alone by the road, so small and helpless that the sight had angered him more than he cared to admit.

"He? So, it is a male?" Hubert asked.

"Indeed. I could not leave him there to die," he said.

"No of course not. That would be cruel indeed. We have seen this type of thing before, and it is most unkind. What do you mean to do with him?" Hubert asked.

"I decided to raise him myself," James said.

Hubert blinked. The fork he held in his hand landed on the plate with such a clatter. "Raise him? An abandoned baby from the road?"

"Yes, exactly," James took a sip of his wine that was very nonchalant.

"Shocking. Do you mean to raise him as your ward?" Hubert asked.

James shook his head. "No." He leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a faint smile at the sheer absurdity of the conversation. He had expected Hubert to be surprised, but even he had not anticipated quite this expression.

"I mean to raise him as my son," James said.

Hubert stared at him. "What?"

James held his gaze. "My legitimate son."

Silence descended over the table again, considerably heavier this time. Somewhere beyond the dining room, a clock chimed the quarter hour, entirely indifferent to the fact that James had just announced what might become the most consequential decision of his life.

Hubert finally exhaled and rubbed a hand across his jaw. "James, you cannot simply announce that an abandoned infant is your legitimate son. What are you thinking? In fact, you are not thinking at all. What has gotten into you to do something so absurd? This will not pass the prying eyes of society at all."

"I am a duke," James replied dryly. "Apparently people expect me to do things that are slightly unreasonable. And most people are afraid of me and will not speak out against me for fear of falling in my disfavor. There will be gossip no doubt, but after a couple of years, they will move onto something else. I shall bear it just fine."

Hubert gave a short laugh despite himself. "That is not how legitimacy works, nephew. Why risk such a thing? This is ridiculous."

"I am aware." James picked up his wine but did not drink it. "Which is why I have considered the matter carefully."