" Are you going to be my papa now?” the child had asked Zachary, sitting with her arms looped around his neck. She had flown to him with shrill cries of delight when Holly had brought her to visit the estate, and he had swung her in the air until her little petticoats and white stockings had been a white blur. Touched by the obvious happiness of the pair, Holly had felt a great settling of comfort and peace inside. If she had had any lingering doubts about the rightness of this new life for her daughter, they dissolved at the sight of Rose's beaming face. The child would be spoiled, undoubtedly, but she would also be loved wholeheartedly. “Is that what you'd like?” Zachary said in answer to Rose's question. She wrinkled her face thoughtfully, and her doubtful gaze flickered to Holly before returning to Zachary. “I should like very much to live in your big house,” she replied with all the candor of a young child, “and I don't mind that Mama will marry you. But I don't want to call you Papa. It would make my papa in heaven sad, I think.” The words stunned Holly, and she fumbled for a reply. Helplessly she watched as Zachary touched the little girl's round chin and turned her face toward him. “Then call me whatever you like,” he said matter-of-factly. “But believe me, princess, I'm not going to replace your papa. I'd be a fool to try, fine man that he was. I just want to take care of you and your mother. I imagine—I hope—that your papa will be somewhat relieved to see that someone will be looking after you down here while he's unable.” “Oh,” Rose said in obvious satisfaction. “I think that's all right, then, as long as we don't forget him. Isn't that right, Mama?” “Yes,” Holly whispered, her throat tight with emotion, her cheeks flushed with happiness. She stared at Zachary with glittering brown eyes. “You're absolutely right, Rose. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Where Dreams Begin