“Yes, in fact.” Rothhaven brought a branch heavy with pink blossoms to his nose, sniffed, then let it go. “I sent Miss Abbott a letter this morning apologizing for missing yesterday’s appointment and explaining that I became abruptly unwell. I informed her that regardless of any further developments in my situation with you, I was prepared to stand any expense involved in locating your daughter. Any expense, any effort. The search is to proceed with all due haste to a happy conclusion, whether you and I wed or not. I have meddled in your personal affairs. I believe that brings to three the total justifications you have at present for exploding.”

Any expense, any effort. Constance heard those words, heard the absolute determination in them, and had to focus on the fading blooms overhead lest she turn into a watering pot.

“You sent that letter?”

“By express courier. I am determined on two objectives, Constance Wentworth. The first is becoming the best husband I can be to you. The sooner we speak our vows, the better, if you’ll have me. My second objective is to find your daughter so that you may be assured of her well-being, and decide on the best course going forward.”

“Artemis is a by-blow. I don’t expect to be able to acknowledge her openly.”

Rothhaven approached, his green eyes lit with some emotion Constance could not fathom. “Peers have by-blows as regularly as King George has fevers. If the child is happily situated, and you are content to dote on her from afar, so be it. If her circumstances lend themselves to her joining our household, then she will join our household. If you aren’t comfortable claiming her as a by-blow, I happily will. I prefer that option, actually, as it will lend the girl more consequence, but you are her mother, and your wishes must be controlling.”

You are her mother. You are her mother. Said with such conviction, such certainty. “I am her mother.” Constance threw herself against Rothhaven, her heart exploding. “I am her mother, and I will be your duchess, and the very best wife I can be to you. This, I vow.”

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

A man in love was willing to endure many hardships for the sake of his beloved. Witness, Nathaniel was enduring this chess match with Althea.

“I love flowers,” she said, gaze on the bouquet Nathaniel had arranged on the windowsill of his sitting room. A lone tulip nestled among the last of the irises, the best he could do on short notice. “They make me sad too, though. Their beauty fades so quickly. A whole year goes by before they bloom again, assuming they can withstand our winters.”