Chapter Thirty
G enova turned and saw Sheena with Charlie in her arms. A glance around showed many servants present, some helping, some merely looking on and even enjoying the Christmas delicacies and drinks. It had to be with permission.
Ash was already heading across the hall toward the Irish girl. Genova hurried after him, thinking that he, too, was concerned that Charlie might cry, but then realized that he probably didn’t know about his cousin’s weakness.
She was caught and kissed by three other men. She managed to laugh and flirt to the required degree, but her reaction was only impatience. She needed to keep up with Ash, but also, no kisses other than his mattered now.
She saw Sheena bob a curtsy, face sinking into sullenness. Was close enough to hear her say, “Good day, milord,” as if she spoke English well. The girl was clever, which would be a good thing.
“Good day, Sheena,” Ash said, as Genova arrived at his side. “Lady Booth Carew?”
The girl’s eyes widened, but she nodded.
“Where is she?”
Sheena’s eyes hunted around for help.
“Where is Charlie’s mother, Sheena?”
“Stop!” Genova put herself between them. “You’re frightening her.”
“If I’m to make peace,” he said sharply, “I have to sort out my affairs, especially those relating to Molly Carew. Sheena is clearly not stupid and she understands a bit of English. Names do not change much from language to language, and nor does the word for mother.”
“But why would she know anything of use to you? She’s simply a wet nurse.”
“Don’t you want to find the truth?”
“Yes, of course, but not like this!”
His dark eyes studied her. “You admit there is a truth to be found?”
She hadn’t meant that, but challenged, she opened her mind. She now felt sure that he would not lie to her.
“Yes. I believe you,” she said. “I don’t understand how you can be sure you’re not Charlie’s father, but I believe that you are. Sure, that is.”
“Somewhat guarded, but thank you. If I can discover the real father, it will solve many of my problems.”
“Lady Booth’s the one to ask, isn’t she?”
“She seems to have slipped away.”
“Slipped away?”
“A friend was with me at the Lion and Unicorn. He went after her, but lost the trail.”
Genova kept an eye on Sheena and the baby but was absorbed by this discussion. They were talking, directly and practically, and it felt completely natural, as if they had known each other a long time.
And as if they trusted each other. It was as if a cloud of insubstantial delights had coalesced into a pearl, something real that could be held and cherished.
It made it easy to put a hand on his arm. “As you said, she can’t disappear entirely, Ash. There’ll be time enough to talk to Lady Booth after Christmas.”
He covered her hand with his own. “I think you could keep me sane, Genova.”
“Is your sanity in doubt?”
“Constantly. Especially recently.”
He put his finger beneath her chin, and when she didn’t resist, he kissed her. It was light and simple, but perhaps the sweetest kiss they’d shared. She didn’t request a guinea, and he didn’t offer one.
“I should be doing my duty to the Yule log,” he said, with a last glance at Sheena. “Will you try to find out what she knows?”
“Of course, but she really does understand virtually no English.”
He grimaced, then walked away.
Genova turned back to Sheena, who was still looking wary. To soothe the girl, Genova plucked a cake from a passing tray.
Sheena brightened immediately and consumed it. The baby slept on, but he could awaken at any moment. Genova hated to spoil Sheena’s treat, but she had to. “You must return to the nurseries,” pointing toward the great stairs.
Sheena shook her head, but Genova insisted and began to steer her that way. Genova went slowly, however, and chose various delicacies for the girl along the way.
To allow Sheena to enjoy them, Genova took the baby for a while and found comfort for herself in the bundle. There was something about a baby that brought the world into perspective.
When they reached the stairs, singing started over near the Yule log. Sheena stopped to listen, and since the baby was still fast asleep, Genova took the girl up three steps so they’d have a better view.
A group of gentlemen, including Ash, was singing a Christmas round about spiced ale and cheer. It would probably be called a glee, and once Genova would have thought glee and Ash uncomfortable partners. No longer. There was a joyous man in him, and he might be breaking free.
Then some ladies sang “The Holly and the Ivy,” led by Damaris Myddleton, who did have a lovely voice. Everyone began to join in.
Genova rocked the baby, praying the swelling sound wouldn’t wake him. A twitch of the bowed lips was almost like a smile. A deep need stirred then, a powerful need to have children of her own. To bear one man’s children.
She looked across at Ash. Her heart was given.
It was a strange recognition. Not dramatic, but calm and certain. This wasn’t a fit of wild lust or a passing infatuation.
Well, then. What was she going to do about it?
She was no grand lady, but she could be a good wife for him, she was sure. They were equals in all the ways that mattered. Hadn’t he just said that she could be his sanity?
She didn’t know all she would need to know, but that would have been true if she’d encouraged the courtship of Hester’s neighbor, a wine merchant. She could learn. She would enjoy learning. She would even learn how not to sneeze in the royal presence.
And love must weigh in the balance, especially a love like this, which she thought he shared. Only thought, but surely that would become clear.
Then there was the physical. Yes, indeed, there was the physical, not to be discounted when it came to marriage. A happy bed was the heart of that. She could certainly be happy in his bed, and she hoped she could make him happy in turn.
Make a rake happy enough to be faithful?
She remembered him saying he intended to be a good husband. He might not have meant fidelity, but it was a start.
She allowed herself to watch him a little longer, absorbing the change in everything. Her new thoughts and feelings were as frightening as naked blades, but as exciting. Yes, she was someone who needed to live on the edge.
The song ended in laughter and chatter, and a little noise pulled her out of thought. Charlie wasn’t crying, or about to, thank heavens, but his big eyes were wide and alert. It was time to get him away from here.
She put the baby in Sheena’s arms. “Charlie’s awake. You must take him back upstairs.”
She pointed upstairs, but Sheena shook her head.
Genova was about to insist when the girl pointed toward the back of the house, saying something equally firmly. Of course. By now she’d have learned to use the servants’ stairs.
Genova watched the pair leave, thinking that Sheena might have a clearer idea of her place in this world than she had. What sort of madness said that she could marry a marquess?
She climbed the elegant stairs to the half landing to observe again. This in-between spot was more in keeping with her position. Ash was down in the heart of things, near the fireplace, where the log was now in place. She was apart, up here.
She remembered leaning on the balustrade in the Lion and Unicorn, admiring a virile stranger.
He was still a stranger in some ways, but she knew him. She knew him deep in her heart, soul, and gut.
Then she realized that being up here felt like being on the bridge of one of her father’s ships. She’d been blessed by good parents and an interesting life. What would her father have to say about her strange new adventures if he knew?
Keep a solid ship beneath your feet, Genni-love, and you can ride out the wildest storms.
Fanciful dreams did not form a solid ship, but surely the connection forged between her and Ash today did.