Chapter Eighteen
“I do not like having him on my left side,” Joy said. “I am still too weak.”
“Pillows support you both, and I am right here.” Jansen adjusted the cushion under her arm.
What better way to strengthen her left side than with the baby?
“We shall not let him fall. Besides, you said your right breast is getting sore.” He was probably the only man in the entire ton to know so much about putting a baby to the breast. He didn’t care.
It was his wife and son, and they were alive and getting stronger every day.
“I hope I have enough milk for him, but Mrs. Kalifenny is still here—yes?”
“Yes, love. She tops him off, so to speak. Just to be certain.”
“Is he not perfect?” Joy gave her softly grunting son a lopsided smile.
“He is perfection itself. Just like his mother.”
The surgeon had said it could take days, months, or maybe never for Joy to recover completely and be rid of the paralysis. She had yet to walk, but at least she was alive, able to speak, and getting stronger.
“Lion,” she said in a singsong voice as she tickled the baby’s cheek. “My little lion.”
“He has the appetite of a lion.” Jansen had never known such pride and contentment. The Almighty had indeed blessed them beyond belief. “Remember what the surgeon said about eating more to build your strength. Mrs. Copper was not pleased with what you left on your tray at luncheon.”
“She knows I despise liver and beetroot.” Joy made a face. “Disgusting. I shall revert to toasted crusts if she keeps sending that up.”
“She said it is good for Lion.”
“When Lion gets teeth, he may eat it. Until then, he shall forgo liver and beetroots via my milk.”
Happiness swelled within Jansen. There was the Abarough fight and wit that would get her through this struggle. He would not have her feeling sorry for herself. They had too much for which to be thankful.
“Our son has gone to sleep, my love. Shall I take him to Mrs. Kalifenny just to be certain?”
“Yes. He is so tiny. I do not want to risk shorting him in any way. He sleeps because he is close and comfortable.”
“Come to me, young man. You must eat a bit more to grow as tall as your papa.” Jansen scooped the child into his arms and took him into the adjoining room, where Mrs. Kalifenny awaited.
“How did her ladyship do?” the kindly woman whispered.
“Stronger every day.”
“Well done.” She held out her hands and took the mite from him. “Come along, Master Lion. Time for dessert.”
Jansen struggled not to laugh as he returned to the bedroom. “Mrs. Kalifenny informed Master Lion that it was time for dessert,” he explained to Joy after he’d shut the door behind him.
She laughed. “She is such a nice lady. I must thank Fortuity for recommending her.”
“Indeed.” Then he noticed she went quiet. “Tell me, my love. Do not sit and stew.”
“What if I am bound to a bath chair the remainder of my life?”
“Then we will make the accommodations needed and be thankful you lived through the tumultuous ordeal that nearly stole you away from me.”
She fixed him with a grim stare. “But I do not want that for you.”
“I do not want it for you, but I will gladly make whatever concessions we must to have you still here—alive and well. You frightened the living hell out of me, my angel. I thought you lost and about to get your wings.”
“What if we cannot have any more children?”
“I am thankful for Lion and none too sure I wish you to endure that again anyway.”
“You have an answer for everything.”
“Well, of course I do. You have a very wise husband. Were you unaware of that?”
“I am aware he is a horse’s arse.”
Jansen threw back his head and laughed. “That I am, my love. That I am.”
“But I love you anyway.”
He laughed again, thrilled with the sparkle in her eyes. “I love you anyway too, my angel. More than you will ever know.”