quite all right.”
There was a stiff formality to her that belied their friendship of the past week. A thought dismayed Alicia more than she cared to admit. Did Sarah regret her offer? Would she scorn Drake?
“May I present my husband,” Alicia said, stepping back and watching the two of them. “Mr. Drake Wilder.”
He raised Sarah’s hand to his lips. “Your Grace. It’s a pleasure to meet so dear a friend of my wife’s.”
“Mr. Wilder,” Sarah said with cool hauteur. “You’re quite the mystery man. Alicia has divulged little about you.”
“As she has done with you. I look forward to becoming better acquainted.”
His mouth slanted into that smile of practiced charm, the one that too often caused a disgraceful weakness in Alicia’s knees. But Sarah seemed impervious to his masculine allure. She cast her gaze toward an arrangement of chairs by the night-shrouded window. Only then did Alicia notice the small boy standing at attention there.
Her heart turned over. Sarah’s son.
The duke had his mother’s hair, falling in soft brownish black curls below his ears. But there the resemblance ended. Solemn of face, he looked like a miniature adult in knee breeches and tailored gray coat, lace at his throat and cuffs.
Her skirt swishing, Sarah went to his side, placing her hand on his shoulder. She glanced rather anxiously at Alicia and Drake. “I was just saying good night to my son, William. Take a bow to our guests, darling.”
Obediently, the four-year-old bent at the waist, one small arm clasped to his front, the other in back.
Alicia walked forward and curtsied to him, holding the pose for a moment so that she could look into his sober brown eyes. “Your Grace,” she said. “I am Lady Alicia, your Mama’s friend. I do hope we can become friends, too.”
Saying nothing, he lowered his gaze to his polished black shoes.
“I’m sure he is delighted to meet you,” Sarah said quickly. “It is just that … he isn’t easy with strangers. Since his father’s passing, we’ve not gone out much.”
Alicia’s heart ached for him. This past week, Sarah had made excuses for not introducing him, saying he was at his lessons or taking a nap. She had been protecting the timid boy, Alicia realized. Aside from his mother and the nursery staff, William would encounter few other people. It must be difficult for an only child to lose his father, however negligent Featherstone had been. And it would be daunting for one so young to shoulder the position of a duke.
“Perhaps we might go on a picnic sometime with your mama,” she suggested. “Would you like that?”
William lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug.
“If you were to fashion a little boat,” Drake said, “I daresay we could find a pond on which to sail it.”
Alicia rose quickly to her feet. She hadn’t realized he stood behind her. But his attention wasn’t on her; he watched William.
William watched the floor.
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Wilder,” Sarah said with a concerned glance at her son. “But really I wouldn’t dream of troubling you—either of you.”
“It’s no trouble,” Drake said. He hunkered down in front of William. “Perhaps you would prefer a visit to the circus to see the acrobats, the clowns, the trapeze artists. There is even a magician who can perform the most amazing tricks.”
The boy slid a cautiously interested glance at him.
“What’s this?” Drake reached behind William’s ear and produced a sparkling guinea. “I think you must wash better behind your ears.”
William’s eyes rounded. Almost reverently, he took the gold coin, turning it over and over as if to discover its secret. “Please, sir, how did you do that?”
“Magic. Shall I make it disappear again?”
William gave a vigorous nod.
Drake placed the guinea in one palm, closed his fingers into a fist, and turned it over. He tapped the back of his hand and paused for dramatic effect. When he opened his palm, the coin was gone.
William crowed with delight.
Sarah stood watching, smiling, as Drake performed his sleight of hand again, and Alicia was amazed not so much by the street urchin’s trick as by his willingness to entertain a little boy. It was a side she had never seen of him—nor would have believed he possessed if she weren’t witnessing it right now. Had he ever wanted children of his own? Had he felt the same longing for a family that she had once felt, before Mama had taken ill?
She shook off the intrusive questions. Marriage served only one purpose for him—to satisfy