Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Jessamine only managed to sleep a handful of hours before the demands of the day—and her worry about William—dragged her up again.
When she made her way to the nursery again, however, she found William asleep, recently fed and snuffling softly as he slept.
Relief crashed over her. Having his fever seem to break a few hours ago had been one thing, but seeing proof that he was no longer suffering—and knowing that he had been perfectly fine even when she hadn’t been with him—was a weight off her shoulders.
A knock came at the door just as she had pulled up a chair to sit by William’s bedside.
“The physician has arrived,” Foxwell said, opening the door.
And indeed, the physician, a spare man with deep-set dark eyes, entered the room. He brought with him an aura of calm and self-possession that calmed the immediate pounding of Jessamine’s heart.
Behind him, Andrew entered the room.
Jessamine immediately looked at her feet.
She felt as though she were flushing all over, from the crown of her head to the very tips of her toes.
His expression, in the glimpse she’d had of it, was just as stern as ordinarily, but all Jessamine could think about was the feel of his mouth against hers.
When she’d awoken, her first thought had been of William, but in the time that had passed since, new memories assailed her. Andrew’s hands on her back, kneading the muscle. The way he had touched her, both respectfully and needfully.
The physician bowed to her. “My name is Mr. Wilford, and I specialize in infants and children’s health. If I may, I would like to examine Master William.”
Jessamine wondered if Andrew had requested Mr. Wilford ask her for permission. After all, Andrew was perfectly capable of giving permission, and indeed he seemed eager to give instructions to all and sundry.
If that were the case, she felt gratitude tighten her chest.
Andrew still did not look directly at her.
“Yes, of course,” she said, rising. “I should be very grateful.” She ran through his symptoms and the things they had done the previous night to calm him.
“Very good,” Mr. Wilford said as he bent over William, listening carefully to his pulse. “It seems as though you did everything right. I commend you both.”
“Thank you.” Jessamine chanced another glance at Andrew and found him watching her.
At her attention, he moved his gaze away again, the gesture deliberate rather than instinctual. As though it were not a knee-jerk reaction at seeing her, but an intentional movement to indicate his lack of interest in interaction.
What had the kiss meant to him? She hadn’t expected a kiss at all—the fact he’d kissed her had come as a surprise. And yet it had not been wholly unwelcome.
She flushed again and did her best to focus on William.
“His temperature is down,” Mr. Wilford said. “And he is sleeping peacefully. His heart rate seems settled, though still a trifle elevated. With a little sleep and careful watch, I expect him to make a full recovery. He seems a healthy child.”
“Oh, thank heavens.” Jessamine sank into a chair. “I had hoped, when his fever broke, I had hoped he would… But are you certain?”
“I am,” Mr. Wilford said, smiling. “He seems as though he is doing well, and I hope this comes as a relief to you both. Your quick actions saved him from any more permanent harm. When he awakes, he will be as he always is, I am sure.”
“Thank you,” Andrew said, his voice as warm as Jessamine had heard of it. “Please, see Foxwell on your way out, and he will arrange generous compensation for coming here so quickly.”
“Of course. My thanks, Your Grace.” Mr. Wilford bowed and left the room.
The nursemaid accompanied him downstairs, leaving Jessamine and Andrew alone.
She longed to ask about the kiss, but Andrew was staring into the crib with a tight expression, his brows drawn and his mouth tight.
“Will you be perfectly well?” he asked abruptly. “With William, that is.”
“Yes, of course, if he’s all but recovered.”
“Good.” Andrew nodded, tucking his hands behind his back. The silence felt thick between them. His gaze alighted on her, dropped to her mouth, then away. The line between his brows deepened. “I will be in my study if you require anything else.”
Well, that answered the question of whether he intended to address what had passed between them.
A resounding no.
“I see,” Jessamine said. “Thank you, but I expect to manage perfectly well.”
He inclined his head and left the room once again.
Jessamine sank into the rocking chair beside the crib. “Well,” she said to the sleeping child. “What am I going to do about him?”
The anxiety-inducing monotony of the day continued until after lunch.
For once, yet again, Andrew did not disappear during the afternoon, instead remaining in his study.
Jessamine had already resolved not to go to him for help unless she absolutely could not help herself. He had made his position clear.
Fortunately, distraction came in the form of Irene and Kate, minus Button. “I thought William might not like to see Button just yet,” Kate explained, perfectly seriously, by means of a greeting. “He is rather large.”
“He is,” Jessamine agreed with a smile. “That was very considerate.”
“How is he?” Irene asked.
“Why don’t you come and see for yourself?” Jessamine led them upstairs. “He had a fever last night, so he is a little crotchety, but I expect you can still hold him if you would like, Kate.”
Kate’s eyes lit up. “Oh, do you think? I would be so delighted to. He’s so tiny!”
Jessamine smiled tiredly at Irene, whose hands were on her stomach. If Jessamine hadn’t known her sister was with child, she would never have guessed, but Irene clearly never forgot that fact. And in seeing William, she was no doubt looking ahead to when she would have a baby of her own.
The nursemaid smiled at them as they entered the nursery, William in her arms, grumbling tiredly.
“Well timed, Your Grace,” she said. “He has just finished feeding.”
Jessamine glanced at Kate, who was staring at William in undisguised wonder. “Why don’t you hold him?” she suggested to the girl. “He doesn’t mind who holds him at present, so long as they are warm and comfortable and rock him gently.”
“I know how,” Kate said. “I have done it before, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” Jessamine nodded at the nursemaid, who relinquished William into Kate’s arms and guided her into the chair.
Kate stared down into William’s face with a soft smile on her face, looking as though the rest of the world no longer existed.
“She will be a wonderful mother one day,” Jessamine said.
“Oh yes,” Irene said. “If we can one day find a gentleman willing enough to put up with her spirit and her love of extremely large dogs.”
“She may yet grow out of that.”
“Perhaps. But I rather suspect that when Button eventually passes on, she will immediately find a new stray to take care of.” Irene’s face softened.
For all her teasing complaints, she adored her husband’s sister completely.
Jessamine rubbed at her face and took Irene’s arm. “I have something I must tell you,” she said under her breath. “Come through to my bedchamber, will you? It’s next door, and I will hear William cry if he does.”
“Of course. What is it?”
But Jessamine kept quiet until they were safely ensconced in her bedchamber, the door firmly closed.
Only then did she release a long, slow breath. “Last night, after William finally settled from his fever, the duke and I kissed.”
Irene clapped her hands together. “How delightful!”
“It was not delightful!”
“Are you telling me that His Handsomeness is a terrible kisser?”
More heat suffused Jessamine’s face. She felt as though she had spent half the day blushing. “That is not what I meant.”
“So he is a good kisser,” Irene crowed.
“It was a mistake,” Jessamine insisted. “We are both here to take care of William. Nothing more. He said so himself.”
“Jessie, dearest.” Irene put both hands on Jessamine’s shoulders.
“You know it is perfectly all right for you to desire your husband, don’t you?
Heavens, that’s the preferable way of things.
Marriage is supposed to include desire for one’s spouse.
I won’t speak for affection, but desire is a very different matter. ”
Jessamine sank onto the edge of the bed. “It makes things altogether more complicated than they ought to be. We should be keeping our distance.”
“For what purpose?” Irene asked gently, taking a seat on her left. “You know, what happened to Rebecca was not your fault. And you shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened to Percy.”
Jessamine winced. The memory still stung, a splinter that had never quite worked its way out. “Don’t talk about Percy.”
“The world is a cruel place, and we can’t change so many things about it.
Percy is one. Rebecca is another. The only things that we should think about are the things we can control.
And you are doing just that. You are looking after William and even married into Willima’s family so you can do so legitimately.
That is dedication, but make sure it comes from love and not from guilt. ”
Jessamine pressed her palms against her thighs, looking down.
Thinking about Percy, the baby brother she had gotten to hold just once, made her chest tight.
But William was not Percy, and although she would never forget what happened to her late brother, and although she would never quite forgive herself, this was not penance.
At least, not wholly.
“I do love William,” she said, looking up.
“Then allow yourself to be happy, dearest. That is all anyone wants for you. If the duke can kiss you and make you happy, then why should you hold yourself separately from that?”
If it were just about Jessamine and the things she wanted, then there was no reason, but it was not just about her at all.
She hunched her shoulders, and Irene took pity on her, hugging her from the side. “I think,” she said softly, “that no matter what you decide about your marriage, William is extremely lucky to have you as a mother. Just… don’t shut yourself away from the means of being happy, that’s all.”
If the duke was what could make her happy, then she would eat her bonnet.
“William is all I need,” she said, rising. “Come on, shall we check on Kate?”