Page 60

For a moment, Ambrose said nothing. Then his expression darkened.

“Did Hendricks hear this from Rutland himself?”

“No, Your Grace. From his coachman, who was discussing the matter with another servant while they were all waiting at the posting house for the horses to be changed.”

“Then we have no way of knowing precisely what Rutland said.”

“No, Your Grace. But Hendricks thought it sufficiently concerning to bring to my attention.”

Ambrose turned away, his jaw tightening. He remembered the letter that had accompanied Emma. Douglas had made his feelings about his daughter perfectly clear. The child had been a burden to him, an inconvenience he was only too pleased to surrender.

And now he was telling people that he intended to take her back?

Was this merely another of Douglas’s lies, designed to impress some young woman? Or did he actually mean to do something about it? Neither possibility pleased Ambrose.

“I want you to find a solicitor,” he said.

Ernest inclined his head. “Certainly, Your Grace.”

“Someone familiar with matters of guardianship. I want to know precisely where I stand should Rutland decide that he wishes to reclaim his daughter.”

“Very good, Your Grace.”

“And Ernest?”

“Yes?”

“I would prefer that this matter remain between us for the time being.”

“Of course.”

Ambrose nodded and continued upstairs.

He had intended to return to his chamber, but instead found himself walking toward the nursery. The thought of Douglas taking Emma away had unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He had never imagined that the man would want her back. He had married Marina believing it. What would she say if the child who had brought them together were taken away?

As he approached the nursery, he heard the wet nurse speaking softly to the baby. The door stood slightly ajar. Ambrose pushed it open another inch.

Sunlight streamed through the uncovered window, falling across the carpet and the side of Emma’s cradle. Even from the doorway, the brightness made him squint. A familiar ache began behind his eyes, and he turned his face away before it could grow worse.

The wet nurse was seated beside the cradle, attending to Emma. Neither of them had noticed him.

For a moment, he considered asking her to close the curtains. But Marina had been quite clear that Emma ought to have daylight, and he had agreed.

Besides, the child looked perfectly content.

He withdrew without a word and quietly pulled the door shut.

As he made his way toward his chamber, the ache behind his eyes slowly subsided. He had thought that keeping his distance from Marina would be difficult enough. Now, apparently, he had two things to worry about.

And unlike his feelings for his wife, the matter of Emma was not something he could simply avoid.

Twenty

He was insufferable. Absolutely insufferable. She should’ve known that after what had happened the day before, he would react this way. He was pushing her away. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of this.

They certainly could not go on living like this. If they kept growing closer only for him to push her away, she might as well return to her cottage.

But at least he had agreed to give her this task.