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Mary rested in the afternoon, leaving Drew at a loose end. They had explored more of the grounds on horseback before luncheon, but after luncheon, she said her condition had made her tired.

Drew also thought it might be because she had not been eating well. He had filled her plate at luncheon. But he did not want to disturb her sleep, so left her alone in bed.

He wandered along the upper hall, his hands in his pockets.

‘Steady now, one step at a time.’ Pembroke’s deep tone had a happy sing-song pitch.

A gurgling, gleeful sound followed.

Drew saw Pembroke walking from the other direction, doubled over, his forefingers gripped by an infant’s chubby little hands. The child toddled before Pembroke on unsteady feet, rocking and swaying, but grinning happily.

A lancing pain struck Drew in the chest.

He had eavesdropped this morning, but now he felt as if he were looking through a window and spying something so personal he should not see it.

Pembroke looked up and smiled. ‘You have not met my son yet, have you?’ He freed his fingers, held the child’s waist, tossed him in the air and caught him, the child squealing. Then settled the boy’s bottom on one forearm while protecting him from toppling with the other arm.

Drew felt as discombobulated as he had in Pembroke’s drawing room in London.

‘Katherine is lying down too. She is also expecting. Paul likes crawling on the short grass in the formal gardens, so I am taking him outside. Or rather he likes the endless space where there is nothing to make me say no. Are you going outside?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then we can keep each other company.’

Drew nodded. He followed Pembroke downstairs, while Pembroke crooned at the boy.

He tried to imagine himself with a child, but he could not.

When they reached the hall Pembroke ordered lemonade and cake to be served in the garden. They did not go out the front, but to the back, to the terrace, where the building gave some shade from the sun’s rays.

Pembroke descended a flight of steps and put the child down on what Drew imagined was a croquet lawn, because it was perfectly flat, and scythed to half an inch in depth.

Watching the boy speed off on his hands and knees, Pembroke set his hands on his hips. ‘It takes some time adjusting to fatherhood but it is magnificent. I shall never cease to wonder at the miracle of how a woman’s body can create a child.’

Pembroke glanced at Drew. His expression said he understood that Drew was out of his depth and treading water hard, trying not to sink.

‘You may practise getting to know children with my son, if you wish, or dive into the deep when your own arrives.’

The expression in Pembroke’s eyes implied he was laughing at Drew, without actually laughing. ‘I was like you,’ he said. ‘But you know that. I did not think I could love. I assure you, when the child arrives you will have no choice but to love him or her. You will be smitten at first sight. You are not like your parents, any more than I was like my grandfather. You will love the child.’

Drew’s hand combed through his hair, hiding how much his hand shook.

The servants delivered the lemonade and Pembroke ran to fetch the boy who had reached the edge of the lawn.

They sat on the terrace while Pembroke fed his son pieces of cake and sips of lemonade. Drew smoked a cigar, mesmerised by them, wanting to learn how to be the same. He would cherish his children.

When the cake had all gone, Drew and Pembroke sat on the steps to watch the boy crawl over the grass.

‘I have a property you may be interested in,’ Pembroke said. ‘It is on the edge of my estate, a few miles away, so you would not literally be on my doorstep. It is a small manor, with income from two tenanted farms which are part of the property, and a home farm. I will give you Mary’s dowry back, so, I would expect you to purchase the manor and lands, but at a fair rate. Or I could lease it to you, but in that case you would not have the chance to pass it on to your child in future years.’

‘And you fancy having us close,’ Drew quipped. ‘So you can keep an eye on me, and Mary, because you do not trust me.’

Pembroke held Drew’s gaze, but there was no fierceness or challenge in his expression.

‘I do not wish you close, but I wish Mary happy and settled. The property is ideal. You and I were acquaintances once, perhaps if you let down your guard, we could be friends. Certainly, Mary would like to have Kate and I near.’

And Mary was the most important thing to them all.

‘You may show me this manor, and I will consider it.’

‘We can ride there tomorrow.’