Page 79 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
“Mama!” a voice cried, and he turned to see Gabriel toddling toward them. Andrew stooped to lift the boy in his arms.
“I think ye’d better take Mrs. Ward and young Gabriel home, vicar,” Mrs. Gadd said. “We’ll take care of Loveday and her young ’uns. And I hope ye’ll not object if Frannie comes home with us tonight, to be with her family. I think, today, Mrs. Ward has shown us what a family should be. Them that love each other.”
Holding Etty’s son in one arm, Andrew held out his free arm to her, and she took it. Without protest, she let him steer her onto the path heading toward Shore Cottage.
Mrs. Gadd was right. It was time to learn what a family should be.
Chapter Twenty
What must hethink of her? What must theyallthink of her, revealing secrets that weren’t hers to tell?
But as Etty glanced at the man cradling her son in his arms as if he were the most precious being in the world, she saw nothing but kindness, compassion—and love.
As they reached Shore Cottage, she pushed open the door and ushered him in. By rights she should have sent him on his way—she was only giving the gossipmongers in the village more material with which to tell tales about her.
The village whore…
That was what Ralph Smith had called her.
Gabriel stirred in Andrew’s arms, then let out a yawn before nestling against his chest.
“Well, young sir, I think it’s time you had your rest.” Andrew glanced toward Etty. “Shall I take him to his chamber?”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued.
“You’re exhausted,” he said. “And don’t try to deny it; you could barely walk. Make yourself comfortable in the parlor and I’ll see to your son.”
He reached for her hand, and a delicious warmth licked across her belly as his fingers curled around hers.
“Trust me, Etty.”
He met her gaze, his warm brown eyes filled with tenderness, and she nodded as her soul slid into place.
Yes—shecouldtrust him, as she could trust no other.
“Let me take care of your son,” he whispered, “as I wish to take care of you both.”
He dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers.
Gabriel stirred and opened his eyes. “Da.” He let out another yawn. “Da—da.”
Merely the babbling of a child still learning to speak, but Etty caught her breath at the syllable, and all its implications.
The man cradling her child closed his eyes and lowered his head to bury his nose in the boy’s hair. When he opened them again, Etty was met with the full force of his gaze, and her heart swelled at the raw, unbridled love in his eyes.
She’d seen such an expression only once before—when her father had visited to make his peace with her at last.
It was the love that only the best of adults had for a child…
A father’s love.
Her son—and, finally, herself—in safe hands, she let Andrew steer her into the parlor, where she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and sank back into a chair, succumbing to fatigue and slipping into oblivion.
*
When Etty woke,a fire was crackling, casting a warm orange glow about the parlor. Andrew was nowhere to be seen.
Casting the blanket aside, she rose to her feet and approached the fire. She still shook with fatigue and teetered sideways before kneeling beside the fireplace, plucking a log from the pile and adding it to the fire. The flames flared and crackled, sending out a spark that landed on the carpet in a tiny burst of orange before it died.
