Free Glimmer of Hope by Sarah M. Eden

something inconsequential. Years of silence and bitterness sat between them. Years. That was not a chasm that could be crossed in a single bound. He had to find his footing where he was before taking that leap.
    “ Allons-y. ” The duchess spoke softly to Hartley, approaching with little Liliana walking half asleep at her side. “Your daughter is nearly asleep.”
    “Come here, little one.” Hartley picked up his daughter, smoothing her ebony curls. The girl’s head laid instantly on her father’s shoulder. “Say good night.”
    “ Bonne nuit , Lord Debby.”
    Carter recognized the nickname. Liliana spoke flawless French but couldn’t pronounce “Devereaux.” Carter had always appreciated the irony of that. “ Bonne nuit , Little Lili.”
    The family turned to take their child to the nursery.
    “Adèle,” Carter said after only a fraction of a moment.
    The duchess turned back to him.
    “Could I beg a favor?”
    “Of course,” she replied. Hartley stood beside her, stroking his daughter’s back and watching with amusement.
    “Miranda asked me to seek permission from you to visit your children in the nursery,” Carter said. “She would have spoken herself, but—”
    “She is timid,” Adèle offered the explanation. “Of course she may visit. Tell her that mornings are best—they are least likely to be napping.”
    “Thank you,” Carter said. “She has been hoping for a chance to spend time with them.”
    “And time away from her mother-in-law, je crois .”
    “Her mother-in-law?”
    “No woman likes being made to look incompetent, especially in her own home.”
    Hartley’s expression was apologetic but still communicated complete agreement with his wife’s assessment. Adèle continued up the stairs with her husband and daughter at her side, leaving Carter to wonder about what they’d said.
    Mother had on occasion offered Miranda advice or, as needed, gentle correction. But she’d always done so away from the guests. Yet, Hartley and Adèle both hinted at Mother addressing Miranda’s mistakes.
    Has Miranda been complaining, demonizing her mother-in-law? Carter didn’t want to believe it. The Miranda he’d once known never would have. But, then, he hardly knew what to think of the woman she was now.

Chapter Eight
    “You are certain the duchess said I could?” Miranda asked one more time as she and Carter approached the nursery the morning after Twelfth Night.
    “Positive,” Carter replied. “She specifically suggested you come in the morning so the children wouldn’t be sleeping.”
    “Did she warn the nursemaid?” Miranda reminded herself not to get her hopes up. There was every possibility this wouldn’t work out. She’d been disappointed too many times before to look on anything with absolute certainty, especially where Carter was concerned.
    “ That I couldn’t tell you,” Carter said with a shrug.
    “But you’ll come up with me? Just to explain?” She hated the pleading she heard in her voice, but uncertainty was difficult for her. There were so many unfamiliar people in her house just then—people she was supposed to be impressing with her perfectly ladylike behavior. She was living in a state of constant upheaval.
    Grandfather hadn’t been much help. While he had approved of Carter when they were first married, Grandfather had never cared for Carter’s mother. “Makes a person feel guilty for breathing,” Grandfather had once said of the Dowager Lady Devereaux back before she was the Dowager. While Grandfather had not been openly hostile since the arrival of Miranda’s mother-in-law, he had been conspicuously silent when in her company, which he seldom was.
    “I am rather fond of those two pocket peas,” Carter said. “It would be a shame if they weren’t able to meet you.”
    It was, quite possibly, the nicest thing Carter had said to her since his arrival. Miranda felt the beginnings of a smile tug at her lips.
    “I would be pleased to make the proper