Page 63 of The Scottish Duke
He knew that she wasn’t going to change the name of her child. He could offer her any number of inducements, promise her anything, but he knew he’d come up against the wall of her determination.
The idea of his child being named Gordon was irritating. No, perhaps more than that. His son shouldn’t be named anything but Russell. He would be a Russell. He should carry the name.
Did Lorna’s thoughts ever return to that night? How many times had he wondered where she was? She’d simply disappeared, a storm sprite who’d vanished as ably as a drunken thought.
Not anymore. He knew exactly where she was and what a danger she posed for him.
Chapter 17
The duchess came often to visit her and was turning out to be a fascinating woman, quite different from anyone Lorna knew. In her own way the Dowager Duchess of Kinross was an iconoclast, not unlike her father.
Yesterday, she’d arrived attired in a dark blue dress not unlike the servants’ uniforms. In her arms were a selection of garments.
“These will fit, my dear.” She held up one of the dresses. “It’s called a contouche or a robe à la française. It slips over your head and will be so much more comfortable for you.”
She was overwhelmed by the woman’s generosity and her concern. The duchess was correct, the French garments were blessedly comfortable, tying in the back and not requiring a corset, petticoat, or shift.
“Alex says you’re adamant the child is a boy,” the duchess said after Lorna had changed into one of the French dresses.
“I am.”
“I felt the same about him,” his mother said, smiling at her. “I quite like the name Robert. I understand it was your father’s name?”
Had Alex repeated every bit of their conversation to his mother? She nodded.
“It won’t be long now,” the duchess said. “Only a matter of days, I think.”
She’d felt the same, a sense of expectation that she’d never experienced.
“You have everything you need?”
Once more Lorna nodded.
“We have a wet nurse in readiness as well, my dear.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said.
“You are quite a determined young woman.”
“I know that it’s probably not proper, Your Grace, but I have every intention of nursing my child.”
The duchess surprised her by smiling.
“I did the same, my dear, much to the horror of my mother-in-law. She was under the impression that I would do irreparable harm to myself, the family’s reputation, and to my children if I continued as I was doing. She never did recover from my rebellion, poor thing, or that Craig was always on my side.”
“I’m sorry about his death,” Lorna said. “And about your children.”
“Thank you, my dear.” The duchess fell silent for a moment. “I learned a lesson that I would impart to you. I expected years of happiness with Craig. Instead, I experienced one unimaginable, horrible week of death. My beloved Craig was gone, never to draw breath again, no matter how much I pleaded with him not to leave me. My darling Donald, a bright chubby cheeked boy, was gone, impatient to be running through the fields of Heaven. My precious daughter left me with a smile.”
She placed her hand in the middle of her chest and pressed her other hand atop it as if to keep her heart inside.
“I feel that smile every day. Sometimes I wonder if Moira isn’t with me still, an angel who brings thoughts of joy whenever she appears.”
Lorna blinked back her tears. What strength it must have taken the duchess to live through that terrible time.
“Alex wanted to return to school, too soon, I think. I worried that he never truly allowed himself to mourn.”
“How did you let him go? How could you bear it with the loss of your other children?”
