Page 66 of Duke with a Deception
CHAPTER 12
Verity had never been prouder of her husband than when she stood at his side whilst he gifted Emma the doll that had once been meant for Daphne. Emma’s eyes lit up, her mouth falling open as she saw the doll with its finely sculpted and painted porcelain face and long blonde hair not so very different from her own.
“That’s a lovely doll, Yer Grace,” Emma breathed, reaching out as if she intended to touch the doll and then swiftly retracting her small hand as if she recalled her manners.
“She’s yours now,” King told the girl gently.
He was crouched before her, much as he had been when Verity had found him earlier in the attic, surrounded by carefully packed wooden crates. When he’d had the tiny lace bonnet his daughter had worn in one hand and tears on his cheeks. For a moment, she had feared she had overstepped yet again, intruding upon a painful moment that wasn’t meant for her to see.
But she had been worried when Mrs. Sendall shrewdly mentioned that His Grace had gone to the attic. There had been no reason for him to go there save one. Dukes did not wander about in attics without cause. She had feared his grief wouldonce more send him to a dark and lonely place, the same place he had gone the night she had ventured to the nursery.
But this time, instead of pushing her away, he had accepted her comfort. He had not hidden the vulnerable part of himself from her. The decision to gift Emma with the doll could not have been an easy one, Verity knew, and she was proud of him for it.
“The doll is mine?” Emma repeated in disbelief. “No, she can’t be. I’ve never seen a doll wot’s as pretty as ’er.”
“Now you shall see her every day,” King said, smiling. “For she is yours. A gift from Lady Vitty and myself.”
Verity smiled warmly at his words, noting he had used Emma’s incorrect form of address for her. Bringing the child here with them had been the right choice, she thought, for all three of them.
“Oh, thank you,” the girl breathed, reaching out again, this time to gently stroke the doll’s hair.
“What shall you name her?” Verity asked.
“Annabelle,” she said instantly, as if she had been waiting for the moment.
“A lovely name indeed,” King intoned seriously, as if it were every day he held conversations about the names of dolls with six-year-old girls.
He would make a fine father, Verity thought proudly. His devotion to his daughter was admirable. It was no secret that most gentlemen who kept mistresses didn’t care about what happened to any illegitimate offspring who arose from their trysts. But King had cared enough to bring the babe to his home, risking scandal, and he had been so devastated over her death that he had been unable to face the nursery and the belongings of hers left in it for years.
And his gentleness with Emma was nothing short of adorable. The way he lowered himself to her height, the way he listened to her as if she were his equal instead of a child, meantto be seen and not heard, and how he had welcomed her into his home, all had made their indelible marks upon Verity’s heart. She hadn’t thought it possible to love him even more than she already did, but here was proof before her.
“You may take her,” King invited Emma when she still seemed too hesitant to accept the doll.
It occurred to Verity that the girl had likely never received a gift before. Little wonder she didn’t know how to accept one. The notion broke Verity’s heart. How she wished she could take all the orphans under her wing as she had Emma, impossible though she knew that was. The most she could do was continue to raise funds for the orphanage and volunteer in any way she could.
Emma reached for the doll with wide eyes, touching her as if she were fashioned of pure gold and the rarest of gems, rather than padding, fabric, and porcelain hands, feet, and a face. Slowly, she took the doll into her arms, holding her to her heart.
“I loves ’er, Yer Grace,” Emma said, awe lacing her voice.
“Perhaps she can wear your Mama’s locket,” he suggested kindly, “and then you shall never again have it lost.”
“Oh yes,” the girl agreed. “Annabelle shall wear Mama’s locket round ’er neck always. She shan’t ever take it off.”
“How lovely that will look,” Verity added. “And an excellent idea too.”
“But I don’t know if she can when I get to the orphanage,” Emma said, frowning. “I reckon I’ll have to leave Annabelle ’ere.”
Verity shared a glance with King, who nodded.
“Emma,” she began slowly, “His Grace and I were wondering if you would like to remain here with us at Castelyn House instead of returning to the orphanage when it’s rebuilt.”
Emma’s golden brows rose. “Ye wants me to stay?”
Verity nodded. “Yes, we do. If you would like to, that is.”
“Can Annabelle stay too?” she asked, her eyes still wide.
“Of course,” King reassured her, smiling fondly. “Both of you shall.”
