Page 32 of Lusting for the Duke's Kiss
The Duke of Warwick, and Frank Blackmore, were cut from the same cloth.
She took another deep breath. She would speak to Mama and tell her that they had to leave Warwick Manor, immediately. Her mother would protest, of course, but once she told her about the Duke’srevelation, she would understand. They had all been hoodwinked by him.
Her heart lurched violently. She would never see the Duke again. That much was clear. And even though she knew it was the right, proper course of action, her heart was telling her a different thing, entirely.
***
Her heart was heavy, as she packed her trunk with shaking hands. It was late afternoon, now. The shadows were lengthening outside the window. Soon, it would be dusk.
Mama had knocked on her door demanding to know what was going on, but Hetty had not been able to speak to her. Not yet. She would leave it until the morning when she could speak calmly without breaking down, and then they could be away, straight after breakfast. She had heard nothing from the Duke.
But suddenly, there was a knock at the door, soft but insistent. Hetty took a deep breath, approaching it cautiously. “Who is it?”
“It is me,” said a deep voice on the other side. “Please, Hetty, will you open the door? There is something that I must show you.”
She hesitated. What was he talking about, now?
But before she could respond, the door opened. The Duke was standing there, a solemn expression on his face, holding the hand of a small child, who couldn’t have been more than two years old.
Hetty gasped, staring at the child. He was beautiful, with golden curls framing his head like a halo. He looked like a cherub that had just fallen from heaven. He had big, green eyes, the exact same shade as the Duke’s. And he had other similarities, as well. It was obvious that the man was his father.
“Benjamin,” said the Duke, squatting down to speak to his son, “say hello.”
“Hello,” said the boy shyly, ducking his head.
“Please, Hetty,” begged the Duke, staring up at her. “Can we come in?”
How could she refuse, with the boy on his hand tugging at her heartstrings? Slowly, she nodded her head, feeling once again that she was at risk of bursting into a frenzy of tears.
***
Benjamin hugged his father’s leg, peering up at her, hesitantly. She couldn’t help it. She smiled at the boy and was rewarded with a coy smile back before he ducked his head, burying it into his father’s leg.
“He is beautiful,” she said, in a trembling voice. “A credit to you.”
The Duke smiled wryly. “He is shy with you because he does not know you, but he can be a little tearaway,” he said, ruffling his son’s curls. “He runs rings around his nanny and all the other servants. And he is stubborn if he cannot get what he wants.”
She gazed at him sadly. “His mother wants nothing to do with him at all?”
The Duke shook his head. “I have not heard from her since she fled when he was only months old,” he said, his face twisting in pain, for a moment. “I made discreet enquiries, as to her whereabouts. She is safe, back with her previously estranged family.” He took a deep breath. “She knows where he is, and that I would never abandon him. But I shall not force her to have a relationship with him if she does not want it. It could do more damage to him in the long term than the clean break he has now …”
She sighed heavily, feeling so very sorry, for this little boy. “He is young,” she said, in as steady a voice as she could muster. “He probably will have no memory of her at all. That is a blessing, at least.”
He nodded wearily. “Yes, I console myself with that knowledge.”
The boy was looking at her more boldly, now, with open curiosity.
“You are pretty,” he said abruptly, in a high voice.
She laughed. The Duke laughed, too, nodding his agreement.
“Hetty is very pretty,” he said, gazing at her intently. “A pretty lady, and a kind one, too, Ben.”
The boy ducked his head shyly again, tugging at his father’s britches. “Want Nanny,” he said, looking woebegone.
“Of course,” said his father, scooping him up into his arms. He looked at Hetty. “It is very close to his bedtime. He has a strict routine, of tea, bath, and bed, at this time of night. I should return him to the nursery now.”
“It was very nice to meet you, Ben,” said Hetty, feeling as if she was going to burst into tears, once more. The sight of the small boy with the golden curls had touched her in a way that she had not expected.
