Chapter 46

Sir John stalked up the front steps of Fortescue Manor, and plied the bell pull so vigorously the sound could be heard throughout the house.

Eugenia was so angry she got to the front door before both the butler and her husband. “What is the meaning of this racket?” she demanded. “Do you realise I have two babies who are trying to nap?

He wouldn’t push his way past her—he was too much the gentleman—but she had never seen him so angry. She stepped aside, and he strode into the foyer. His gait was stiff and his face was so flushed she feared he might have an attack of apoplexy.

“Warrick is my son, madam! My wife mustlearn that even if she won’t see to the boy, we have servants who will.”

Eugenia was tempted to strike him for his callous attitude, but Henry’s hand on her arm restrained her. And then she chanced to catch a glimpse of the expression in Sir John’s eyes.

As he said, Warrick was his son. He loved him.

And neither Eugenia nor Henry could withhold his son from him.