Daughter on his Doorstep (HC #2)

16: Chin Drinks Compensación

Predictably, in only a few hours the Humphrey family was gathered in the dining room, with food laid out before them, as Thomas and Vincent apprised them of the new developments. Despite Lupe's best efforts, Isabela had not wanted to settle for her, and was now strapped to Vincent's chest in some makeshift sling that Lupe had crafted out of a petticoat. The babe remained awake, staring up at Vincent with her solemn brown eyes. He couldn't help but feel... scrutinised...

"Vincent, what are your thoughts?"

His chin jerked up and he found the eyes of the room on him. His hand, resting against Isabela's back, curled slightly, cradling her closer still, as he scanned the expectant faces. Beside him, Thomas leant closer.

"It's been suggested we return to London," he said, smiling down at the little girl whose gaze shifted to him. He reached out, tapping her nose lightly; his smile expanded as she blinked rapidly, her tiny brow furrowing slightly. "She has your frown," he quipped, thoroughly distracted, "And my-"

The room saw the realisation hit, his dark complexion turning ashen as he froze in place. Isabela's skin was dark, darker than Lupe's or any of the other Spanish women. Her eyes were blacker, her hair straighter, and her chin...

There was a portrait that used to hang in the hall of the Thorne estate. The duke was standing in the centre, lording his wealth and importance over the room, with his docile wife almost fading into the background beside him. At either elbow cowered a son. The resemblance was clear, even if the sharp Thorne chin was softened on the face of a child.

It was Isabela's chin.

"My God..." Thomas' stomach roiled as the words broke free, and he hurriedly pushed himself away from the table. "I think I'm going to be sick."

He staggered to the corner, supporting himself against the wall as he sucked air in through his teeth. Thankfully, the staff had already been dismissed, and it was only the Humphrey family that watched him with wide eyes. Vincent rose from his seat, awkwardly freeing Isabela from the sling and passing her to Beth. His sister smiled at him, accepting the bundle, and immediately setting about hushing the disrupted child.

He crossed the room, following Thomas' path, and positioned himself between his family and Thomas. The Humphreys had the decency to focus back on their meals, or engage in muted discussions, but there was no doubt the attention of the room was on their corner.

Vincent simply waited.

Although he didn't turn, Thomas could feel the presence behind him, drinking in the calm reassurance as his stomach slowly settled. Eventually, he let out one long breath, and moved just enough to catch Vincent's eye.

"She has my chin," he said softly, "my fa- the duke's chin."

The other man frowned, his gaze narrowing unseeingly on the wall beside Thomas' head while he considered that. Eventually he nodded.

"Well that confirms the duke's involvement," he said. He was not whispering, but the conversation remained between them.

"He... Gabriella..." Bile rose in Thomas' throat again, but Vincent closed the gap between them, setting his hand on the other man's forearm.

"I would not assume the worst. Gabriella was," he considered briefly, "tenacious. It would have been a bold way to protect herself and the others." The worst was still possible, but it would do Thomas no good to dwell on it, he decided.

Behind them, Isabela let out a disgruntled gurgle, twisting uncomfortably in Beth's grip. The child called out again, demanding their return, and Vincent opted for a trick he'd learnt from Thomas himself; he raised his eyebrow.