The babe was obviously the key. If it was his child, Charlotte would now be unwieldy, large, on the verge of giving birth. But it was unlikely, he thought, remembering that he had left in the midst of Charlotte’s monthly bleeding. She wasn’t pregnant when he left, so whose baby did she carry at this moment? He was perfectly conscious that Jennings had talked of “the child”; there was no doubt that Charlotte was carrying someone’s baby, then. It must be Patrick’s.

Abruptly Alex realized that he had mindlessly walked down the street, away from Jennings’s office in the Inns of Court. He cast a look over his shoulder. His groom was following him down the street, walking the horses. The horses were fresh; he might as well head out to Downes Manor. He had horses housed on the post road, and he could ride alongside the carriage. The last thing he needed after weeks in a ship was to be confined in a small, swaying carriage for two days. Alex raised his hand, summoning the groom and carriage, and barked a few commands. One of the footmen hopped nimbly off the back and disappeared down the street. He would gather Alex’s clothes and send them after him to Downes Manor.

I forgot to mention the presents, Alex thought, staring absently after the footman. He had lovingly chosen presents for Charlotte and Pippa over the last months, picking up a piece of glowing blue silk here, a carved wooden toy there. Somehow they had mounted into stacks, evidence of the irresistible presence of his wife and child in his mind over the last five months. Just as well, Alex thought matter-of-factly. He had made enough of an ass of himself, even allowing himself to think about Charlotte while he was away. She clearly didn’t give him another thought after he boarded the ship. He felt a twinge of regret at the idea of Pippa’s presents. Still, he could use them to make her feel better when they returned to London without Charlotte.

Alex stared coldly ahead as he sat in the carriage, easily adapting to the swaying movement as the horses trotted onto the high road leading west. As the imperturbable Jennings had said, it all depended on the birth date of the child. He would know as soon as he entered the room where Charlotte was. If Charlotte was not very large with child, he saw no reason to discuss any of this unpleasant business with her. Why bandy words? Alex’s heart hardened into cold steel at the image of his wife pleading with him, perhaps even promising—again—that she was trustworthy.