safe from Wilton, and in this instance—in this one instance—I will allow I agree with Darius.”
When Leah would have worried a fingernail, Nick took her fingers in his hand and kissed them.
The worry remained in her gaze. “I have a brother.”
“A busy little fellow named John. We’re to meet him, assuming he hasn’t run off and joined the Navy.” Nick tried for humor, tried for a lightness he didn’t feel as he watched anxiety cloud his wife’s face. “Darius has asked us to add the boy to our household for a bit, in fact. He wants to put the lad even farther from Wilton’s reach, at least for a time.”
The coach swung past a hedge of blooming honeysuckle, the sweet, soothing scent at odds with the tension Nick felt radiating from his wife. She started blinking, slowly, then more quickly.
“Lovey, we don’t have to take the boy in. I’m sure Darius would understand. I did not promise we would, and you’ve dealt with enough upheaval.” Belatedly it occurred to Nick that a woman who’d lost a son might not be keen on raising a half sibling for the convenience of others. He’d bungled—
“He looks like Darius? He has dark hair?”
What had that to do with anything? “Sable, I’d say. And his manners are impressive for such a wee lad.” A tear slipped down Leah’s cheek, and Nick nearly bellowed for the coachy to turn the damned vehicle around.
“My Charles had sable hair,” Leah said, taking the handkerchief Nick stuffed into her hand. “Charles and Darius were very alike, the same smile, the same eyes. Charles loved his uncle, and I believe Darius would have died for that child.”
Nick could not tell if this was a good thing, given some of dear Darius’s other antics. “Darius loves this little fellow, Leah, clearly.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “I was hoping you might love him too. We’re the boy’s family, you see, and he hasn’t had an easy time of it, with just your brother to raise him.”
“Of course.”
Of course—what? What did “of course” mean, muttered in near strangled terms?
“Lovey?” Nick bent nearer, close enough to catch the fragrance of lilies of the valley, near enough to recall the flower symbolized the return of happiness. “Of course, what? I can make excuses to your brother, and you need not leave the coach. I can understand that you’re dealing with a lot, and I may have misjudged—”
He shifted back just in time to avoid her elbow as she twisted sharply and flung her arms around his neck. “Nicholas, I love you. I love you so. I love you until I ache with it, and then I love you even more.”
“I love you too.” His arms came around her and held her tight, not for her, but for him—because he needed to hold her when she was upset. “But please don’t cry. I cannot abide it when you cry, Leah.”
And yet, these tears did not strike him as tears of misery.
“You don’t even know this boy, and you must scheme with my brother for the child’s safety,” Leah wailed. “You didn’t know me, and you m… married me, and made me your countess. You trust me with Leonie, and your own sisters don’t know of her, and my brother is an idiot to keep this from me, but you’re making him tell me, aren’t you?”
She kissed him before he could answer, and the kiss told him what the words and the tears had not: Leah was happy. She was pleased to have another sibling—which certainly made matters easier—and she was also pleased with him. With Nicholas Haddonfield, her husband, which made Nick happy too.
“I did not make Darius do anything.”
“Yes, you did.” Another kiss, this one damp and salty with her tears. “You threatened to treat Darius to some fisticuffs if he didn’t allow us to help him, all in aid of saving face, I’m sure, because Darius is quite fierce, but oh, Nicholas…”
She subsided to the seat beside him, which was fortunate, because the coach had been standing still for some moments. Nick took his thoroughly wrinkled handkerchief from her grasp and blotted her tears. “I did not want to upset you, Wife. This should be a happy day.” He took her hand in his, the better to comprehend the emotions rioting through her. “Why the tears, Leah? Is John to come stay with us at Belle Maison? Leonie alone will create a commotion. Two children at once, children who are