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Kitty considered this. “I agree. Is she your friend, like Uncle Stephen?”

Theodore hesitated.

The answer, of course, wasno. Anna Belmont wasnothis friend. He barely knew the woman, and if things went according to plan, he wouldn’t get to know her at all. That suited them both, it seemed.

However, that seemed a harsh thing to tell a child, and rather difficult to explain. On the other hand, he’d always believed that telling lies to a child—especially a naive one—was rather a vile thing to do.

“To tell you the truth, Kitty,” he ventured at last, “I was thinking of marrying Miss Belmont.”

Kitty’s eyes widened. “Marryingher?”

“Mhm. She would be a duchess, which would be a fine thing for her. Being a duchess would solve a lot of problems that the lady has at the moment. Would you like it if I married her?”

There was a long silence while Kitty thought it over. Theodore sat back on his heels and waited.

Before Kitty, he’d rather assumed that children talked nineteen to the dozen as soon as they got their faculties of speech, and hadexpected a constant babble of chatter from his daughter as she grew.

However, while Kitty could talk a person’s ear off if she so wished, she often took a good long while to mull over a question before answering it, weighing up her thoughts more than some adults Theodore knew. It was oddly impressive. He’d learned early on to wait patiently for the answer.

“Would she be my new mother?” Kitty asked, at last, a frown creasing her features.

Theodore bit his lip. “Not quite. You already have a mother, you see. Even though she’s… she’s not alive anymore, she is still your mother, and mothers can’t be replaced. However, Miss Belmont might belikea mother. She would be your friend. Do you think you’d like that?”

Reassured that her real mother—who, of course, Kitty had never met but was fascinated to hear about—was not going to be wiped out of memory, Kitty smiled.

“Oh, yes. That sounds very nice. I think I’d like that a lot. I need a lady friend.”

Theodore bit back a smile. Sometimes, his seven-year-old daughter sounded exactly like a tired, middle-aged widow. “I think I need a lady friend too, Kitty. And it will be nice to have a lady in the house.”

Kitty frowned again. “But wehaveladies in the house. There’s Martha, and Cook, and Mrs. Haunt, and Violet, who does the fires every morning, and?—”

“It’s a little different from that,” Theodore interrupted, leaning forward to press a kiss to his daughter’s head. “Now, Papa must go out, so let’s get you back to the nursemaids, eh? I bet Martha is looking for you everywhere.”

This forestalled any further questions, and Kitty bounced down from the stool on which she sat, smiling happily.

Theodore breathed a sigh of relief. He was not ready to explain to her why the maids who cared for her were different from Miss Belmont. They weren’t, of course, not when you got down to it, but Miss Belmont, as the Duchess, would have the authority to take care of Kitty and shape her mind as she grew. The nursemaids couldn’t be expected to do that, and they generally found themselves at a loss when Kitty misbehaved.

That reminded him—he would have to talk to Miss Belmont about discipline. Kitty couldn’t be allowed to grow up wild, of course, but neither would she be treated badly.

He’d seen what was done to ladies in this world. Everything that could make them interesting was steadily knocked out of them as they were forced into Society’s mold for Young Ladies. The Season regularly churned out meek young misses with their spark resolutely snuffed out, bland and boring and entirely hollow.

He wouldnotallow that to happen to his daughter. No, no, no.

The head nursemaid, Martha, was waiting outside in the hall like she always was. She took Kitty’s hand, but then she hesitated, half turned away.

“If you don’t mind my asking, Your Grace, I was wondering… are the rumors true?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Enlighten me, please.”

She flushed. “I heard that you were getting married. Again.”

Theodore wished they would not mention the ‘again’ part when they talked about his marriage. He was tempted to tell her to mind her own business and that she would see in time, but there was something about Martha’s anxious face—coupled, of course, with her years of hard work and faithful service—that made him feel that she deserved a proper answer.

He sighed. “Yes, I am planning to marry again. Soon, actually.”

Martha drew in a breath. “I… I see.”

“You don’t seem happy.”