Page 24 of Duke of Iron
Of course he did. The man had a sense for turning up precisely when one least wanted an audience.
Logan gave a brief nod and made his way toward the salon. He stepped through the door and found Edward Sinclair, Marquess of Calenham and one of his oldest friends, sprawled with his usual careless elegance on one of Logan’s favorite chairs, his boots crossed at the ankle, a plate of sandwiches on his lap.
“You might have waited for your host,” Logan said.
Edward lifted a sandwich. “I was hungry. Your cook, by the way, deserves a dukedom of her own. These are excellent.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Edward took another bite. “Returned from the north this morning, and what do I hear before I can even unpack? That Irondale is getting married.”
Logan crossed the room and reached for a sandwich himself. “So I am. I have decided to put my neck in the sacred noose.”
Edward leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “What happened? Did you ruin the poor girl and find yourself with Lord August at your back, pistol drawn?”
Logan gave him a look. “Do you think me so incapable of restraint that the only path to marriage is through scandal?”
Edward considered. “You have avoided marriage longer than most. If you are marrying now, I can only assume it is by choice.”
“Exactly.”
Edward’s brows lifted. “Then I must ask, is it love?”
Logan gave a soft chuckle. “What if it is?”
Edward shook his head. “I would not believe it.”
Before Logan could respond, a shrill cry pierced the air, slicing through the genteel calm of the house like a blade.
Edward straightened. “Was that a babe?”
Logan sighed. “Yes.”
Edward set his plate aside. “Whose?”
“He was left on my doorstep,” Logan replied, walking toward the hearth. “No note. No name. Just the child and a basket.”
Edward blinked. “Good God. You are certain he is not…?”
“Quite certain. I am doing everything in my power to find his family.”
Edward rose at once. “Show me.”
Logan led the way up the stairs and down the hallway, pausing outside the nursery. Inside, the wet nurse was pacing with the child in her arms, trying to soothe his cries.
“He is just irritable, Your Grace,” she said as Logan entered. “Some days are like this.”
Edward stepped forward, arms outstretched. “May I?”
The wet nurse passed the babe to him, and Logan watched, somewhat stunned, as Edward rocked the child gently. Within moments, the crying ceased.
Logan frowned. “When did you learn to do that?”
Edward chuckled. “You forget—I have four nieces and nephews.”
He stepped toward Logan. “Here, hold him.”
Logan took a swift step back. “No.”
