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The household had included nursemaids, a nanny, and a governess, but when a little girl shrieks so loudly for her brother that she can be heard two floors below? He’d climbed the stairs to the nursery over and over, because there had been no other choice.

“I gather the father of this child is not honorable,” he said now.

“No, he is not.” Daisy’s plump lips thinned and pressed together.

“I’ll kill him,” Miles said calmly. Belle had been startled into silence when he picked her up. Now she leaned closer and patted his emerging beard curiously. Fearless. Just like her mother. “I will cut out his liver and leave it for crows to eat.”

Daisy let out an odd sound, like a hiccup. “You can’t do that.”

The blackguard who fathered this child and deserted it, without marrying her mother, would face his naked blade—but Daisy didn’t need to know of the details.

Belle popped her thumb in her mouth and started sucking with a vigor that suggested that she was hungry.

Which meant more screaming soon.

Where had the child been cared for since birth? Belle must have been wet nursed somewhere, because no gently born young lady could admit to having a child out of wedlock. Regardless, wherever this one had been, she had found her way back to Daisy.

Lady Wharton’s rigid face drifted into his mind. He had a pretty good idea why Daisy had fled to his house: she had been thrown out. Most ladies of his acquaintance would be sobbing, begging for help, in hysterics. Daisy had clearly been crying, but she was dignified even in extremis.

“I need—I need your help, Miles.”

“Surely the child’s father would be a better candidate than I am?” Despite himself, his voice hardened. “I can ensure his support.”

“My understanding is that he’s happy to send the child to an orphanage.”

Miles was boggled. A man had slept with Daisy and didn’t want to marry her? Didn’t want to legitimize his own child? Wanted to send his own child to an orphanage?

“What a hellhound,” he growled.

Tears welled in Daisy’s eyes.

“He’s married, isn’t he?”

She flinched. He saw the truth in her face. Daisy had been seduced by an adulterous rogue, quite likely an acquaintance. His hands felt hot, as if he had a fever, but he kept his voice even. “Were you forced, Daisy?” The words shot from his mouth like bullets.

“No!” she squeaked. “Nothing like that!”

He took a deep breath. Only one solution presented itself.

“I don’t know what to do,” Daisy cried. “If Belle is sent to an orphanage, I shall never see her again.” A sob tore from her chest. “Belle might fall ill or even die, and I wouldn’t know. I keep thinking that they might not keep her warm.”

Miles’s gut twisted at the abject misery in her face.

She drifted closer until he could smell her apple blossom fragrance. “I thought,” she said, her voice shaking, “that perhaps you could add her to yours.”

He frowned. “To mine?”

Belle let out a warning squeal. Miles glanced down and found the baby was giving him a guileless smile that said, “Feed me, if you please.” She wasn’t just an enchanting child; she seemed to have an even temperament.

“Yes. Wherever you keep them. Yours.” Words tumbled from Daisy’s lips. “I love the way you are holding her. I respect you for that, I truly do. The easy solution is to send a child to an orphanage. But that’s not right. I suppose yours are in the country?”

Miles drew in a harsh breath. “Mine?” he rasped.

She nodded.

“You think that I have bastard children? More than one?” He had just been thinking about his reputation, but it seemed it was worse than he imagined.

Daisy’s eyes were exhausted, red … surprised. “Don’t you?”