Again, there was that hesitation. He bit into his lip. His legs trembled. Ophelia was certain that he was going to turn and walk away. Only then, Harriet giggled, and that seemed to wake something inside of the man.
Slowly, he walked across the nursery until he found himself standing over the cot. He looked down at Harriet, who smiled up at him. Ophelia watched Lord Delacourt without blinking, searching for the anger, the hate, any sense at all that he saw in the baby a reminder of his wife’s affair.
“Her name…” Lord Delacourt said softly. “Harriet?”
“That is the name your wife chose,” Adrian said, standing beside him.
Slowly, a smile touched Lord Delacourt’s lips. It was a small thing, but for a fraction of a second, he looked like the man who Ophelia remembered. And as he held it, as it reached his eyes and stayed, there could be no doubt that the only emotion pouring from Lord Delacourt was love.
“Yes, she always did like that name,” he chuckled softly, somehow seeming to stand taller as he continued to look down at Harriet. “Oh, we argued about it. Although, considering the circumstances of the child’s conception, there was always a sense that I had no say.” He shook his head, still smiling. “She never did confirm it, nor did I have the courage to ask. But we both knew the child was not mine.”
Ophelia glanced at Adrian. His brow was tight, hesitant to say anything further.
“What I told my wife, time and again, was that I did not care.” Lord Delacourt reached over the cot and gave Harriet his finger to play with. She took it immediately, giggling all the while. “I knew how much my wife would love the child, and because she would that, I was sure to love her all the same.”
Ophelia held her breath, not daring to speak. But the scene that unfolded before her was one that could be felt throughout the room. The shadow fell from Lord Delacourt’s shoulders, the warmth returned to him, and his words were such that Ophelia almost started to weep.
“I was a coward,” he continued, almost speaking to himself. “Oh yes, there is no doubt. Time and again, I thought to ask… to make her tell me. But the truth was, I just loved her so much that I did not want her thinking that it would make a difference. I did not want her to worry that when the baby was born, that I would try and find the father to be rid of her.”
He paused for a moment, chuckling as Harriet continued to squeeze his finger. Then he sniffed back tears and slowly pulled his finger away.
“I knew who he was, of course.” He stood up and turned, sure to look between Ophelia and Adrian. “I did my own research, and I figured it out.”
“Lord Delacourt, you do not have to…” Adrian stepped forward, but Lord Delacourt raised a hand to silence him.
“I do not tell you this to suggest I want the man to have anything to do with the child. In fact, it is the opposite. The child might not be my blood, but she is my wife’s, and in her I see…” He glanced back at Harriet and chuckled. “She has her eyes, you know? It is undeniable.”
“She does,” Ophelia said, sniffing back tears.
“Hopefully, she will not look like her father.” His tone turned cold. “Lord Hallbridge was the man’s name…” Ophelia gasped in shock, and she caught Adrian looking at her with the same. “They met in Bath, my guess is during a time after one of our fights. She often went there when we argued about…” He shook his head. “I do not even know, nor do I care to remember. She would go for a few weeks, and when she returned, I would fall to my knees and apologize. I do not know the details of what happened in Bath…” He sneered. “Well, I suppose Harriet speaks to those plainly. And while it hurts to know what happened, I take some condolence in knowing that she came back. She always came back.” He nodded firmly as if thatwas important. “We all make mistakes, that is a truth that is undeniable. What matters is that we admit them, that we are willing to move on from them, and that we use them to help us grow so that we do not make them again.”
Ophelia heard the words as if they were spoken for her. She turned to find Adrian, sure that he must have heard them too. But Adrian looked down at his feet, his expression severe, a sense that he did his best to ignore them.
“Harriet is not a mistake,” Lord Delacourt said. “The only mistake was my own because I should have told my wife every day that I loved her, and that whatever she did, it mattered not. And not a day goes past since she died that I do not regret those moments she was gone from me.” He laughed and shook his head. “I am a stubborn fool sometimes, but not such that I could not see it. And my wife, well, she was just as stubborn, but she knew that like a river washing over a stone, that she could wear me down.”
Harriet cried out, Ophelia moved to collect her, but Lord Delacourt swept in and without asking, he picked her up and held her to his body. Harriet went quiet immediately, snuggling into his chest as if she knew that in his arms there was safety.
Ophelia’s heart stopped… her chest tightened… jealousy swept over her so that all she wanted to do was take Harriet back and tell Lord Delacourt that he could not have her.
But then she watched them a little more, she allowed herself to see through the jealousy and the hurt, and she came to understand what it was that she really felt at that moment.
Despite her reservations, despite her assurances that there was nothing Lord Delacourt could do or say that would change her mind, Ophelia had no choice but to deny that assumption as if it had slapped her across the face. Adrian was right. Lord Delacourt would be good to Harriet, he would love her as his own, and she would live a life with him that she deserved… one that even Ophelia could not give her.
It was not an easy realization to have. It hurt more than she could bear. But this was not about her, and Ophelia needed to do what was right… what was hard, yes, but that was how such things always seemed to be.
“You will be good to her,” Ophelia said. Not a question, but a statement of fact.
Lord Delacourt smiled. “I will try my best. She is my daughter, as far as I am concerned, and the world will see her as such.”
Adrian crossed the room, and he stood beside Ophelia. He did not put his arm around her. He did not touch her. But his presence by her side was like a shield, one she needed to protect her, to let her know that he was there.
“If it is fine by you, Lord Delacourt, we might keep Harriet for a few days longer. No doubt you need time to arrange for her care…”
Lord Delacourt chuckled. “Well, you have seen my home, so you know that is true. But yes, a few days should do it. Hopefully, enough time for you to say your goodbyes.”
Ophelia winced, and Adrian touched her gently on the arm. She ought to have pulled her arm back, determined to not need his comfort. But with how she felt at that moment, she needed it more than anything.
“Shall I walk you out?” Adrian asked.