“You should be the one to take it.”
“Certainly not,” he fired back.
Lydia rose from the bed and came towards him. Victor leaned back, as though he was repelled by the child.
“Surely you will not continue to deny that this child is yours. It was here, on this bed, and look…” She angled her body and relaxed her grip a little, just enough to let the blanket fall open. The soft material folded open to show the Nightford crest which showed a wolf beneath a moon.
The Duke stared at the crest but then shook his head in a disbelieving motion.
“That proves nothing. There are many blankets all around the house. You could have found one anywhere.” To illustrate his point, he marched to the bureau, yanked open a drawer, and pulled out a similar blanket. He kept hold of it and bent down, placing the blanket over the broken glass and small puddle of champagne.
“The only thing I found was this baby.”
“And what were you doing snooping around in my private chamber anyway?”
“I was not snooping.” Lydia lifted her head, pointing her nose in the air, and looked offended. “I was looking for my grandmother if you must know. I feared that she had wandered off.”
“I see,” the Duke said, murmuring. Even if Lydia had not been as insightful as she was, she would have realized that he did not believe her.
“I don’t know why you are being so defensive. You should take responsibility for your child.”
Victor glared at her. “I tell you again that it is notmychild.”
“If this is not your child, and it is not my child, then whose child is it?” Lydia challenged. The Duke pressed his lips together and returned to his full height. The question lingered in the air because that was a pertinent matter of course. They both stared at each other, neither of them able to offer an answer.
Then, the baby started to cry. It was a painful sound, burrowing right into the middle of Lydia’s mind. The baby’s face was scrunched up, and its mouth was open, revealing its toothless gums. Its skin was so red, it was almost purple, and the sound that emanated from its mouth seemed impossibly loud for someone so small to produce.
“Can’t you make it quiet?” Victor asked, wincing a little.
“It’s a baby. They have a habit of crying,” Lydia said. She started to rock back and forth, making shushing noises, but she was not sure the baby would be able to hear her over the sound of its own cries.
“Why is it crying?”
“I don’t know. The child could be hungry, tired, cold, or maybe just upset that it was abandoned.” She glared at Victor, still believing that he was somehow to blame.
After all, why else would this baby be in his chamber if it were not linked to him somehow?
At least after this, there would be no more talk of her being presented to the Duke as a potential bride.
It was going to be a huge scandal although Lydia did not take any delight in this. She almost pitied him.
“Let me try,” Victor said. Before Lydia could do anything, he slipped his arms between hers and wrested the baby from her. For a moment, their hands brushed as the baby functioned like a link in a chain. Lydia became suddenly, acutely aware of how close he stood. He held the baby high, but the head drooped over his arm.
“You’re doing it wrong. Look…” Lydia reached up to adjust the position of the infant’s head. The Duke tried to shift away from her, but Lydia was determined.
“See, you know what you are doing. This must be your baby,” he said, speaking loudly to be heard over the crying. The sound echoed between the walls and filled the room. It seemed far louder than the noise created by the guests in the ballroom. A baby’s cry could be like a storm, and it was utterly impossible to ignore.
“I know what I’m doing because I have a nephew,” Lydia replied. The baby was writhing in the Duke’s arms, and if he was not so strong, then the baby might well have slipped away. Lydia triedto take the baby back. “You have to soothe it. Make soft noises. Try singing to it,” she suggested.
“I will do no such thing,” he replied incredulously.
Lydia rolled her eyes. She had been doing much better when she had been on her own.
“I shall fetch a maid. Perhaps they will know what to do,” he said, and was in the process of handing the baby back to Lydia when Agatha arrived at the door.
“Ah, there you are Lydia. I’ve been looking all over for you.” She then smiled, and her face lit up. She clasped her hands together. “Oh, how precious! My sweet children, you already have a baby. When did you get married, and why was I not invited?” she asked, chuckling to herself.
The color drained from Lydia’s face, and she felt absolutely mortified. She could feel the Duke growing tense beside her. They were both still holding the baby which continued to cry between them.