Chapter 16

Rebecca was too late to catch the duke before he entered his study, so she did the second-best thing: she started walking near his study to catch him during his usual break to stretch his legs. He wasn’t one to sit for too long, so he tended to walk up and down the landing a few times before returning to his study.

It occurred to her that knowing this much about him wasn’t normal or healthy, but she felt at ease knowing what he was doing during the day. It was an odd need that she couldn’t explain logically.

“It’s nearly your sleeping time,” Rebecca said, kissing Tommy’s cheek. “We’ll just wait for your uncle a little while. If he doesn’t come out soon, I’ll put you to bed.”

Whether or not she wanted to see him, he needed to spend time with his nephew. Tommy needed to know his uncle and trust him. It was important for the family.

Adjusting Tommy in her arms, she moved closer to the study, her ears listening for the slightest movement inside the room. He eventually appeared twenty minutes into waiting for him, not noticing they were standing there. The duke was usually keenly aware of his surroundings, but he probably didn’t expect Rebecca to ambush him.

“Your Grace!” she cried, gaining his attention.

She grinned when he jumped, slowly turning to face her. The man was indeed sinfully handsome. Rebecca wanted to run her fingers through his curly black hair to see for herself if it was as silky as it looked.

“Miss Barnes,” he said, inclining his head when she curtsied. “Is something wrong?”

That was the first thing he always asked—was something wrong. It was evident to all who had the opportunity to know him that he was a protector.

“Nothing is wrong, Your Grace.” It suddenly occurred to her that he would not take the baby easily. “Ah!” she cried, pretending to be in pain.

“What is it, Miss Barnes?” he asked, frowning.

“My calf—it has cramp,” she said. “Please, would you take his lordship for a moment?”

She didn’t really give him a chance to agree before handing Tommy to him. His instincts were good because he immediately put his arms around his nephew.

“Miss Barnes!” the duke exclaimed, taken aback.

Rebecca looked away, tempted to laugh. It was not often that a person caught him by surprise.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she said, barely able to keep the amusement out of her voice. “I would not do it unless I was desperate.”

She hissed, pretending she was in great pain as she touched her left calf. Rebecca needed to make a note of which leg it was, or she’d give herself away.

“Well, what on earth were you doing walking around with him in the first place?” he asked. “The nursery is in a different wing of the house, and it’s unnecessary to come this way to get downstairs.”

Rebecca already had a good answer because she had anticipated the question. “I was taking his lordship for a walk around the house because he was fussing,” she explained. “I didn’t expect to suddenly have a leg cramp. Forgive me.”

She looked up at him imploringly, glad when his expression softened. “Very well,” he said, looking a tad bewildered. “Should I call a servant? Where is Miss Ayres?”

“Taking an herbal remedy to a neighbour,” Rebecca revealed. “We heard they were suffering from a skin condition after coming in contact with a poisonous plant. The ointment is to relieve them.”

The duke raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re earning money by selling your wares while working for my sister?”

“The ointment is free, Your Grace,” she said, not at all insulted by the question. “I merely wished to help the neighbour.”

Anyone would come to that conclusion, and most in his position would have a problem with it because it implied she wasn’t putting her heart into doing her main work.

“I see,” he said, frowning slightly. She must have taken the wind out of his sails. “Well, what do you want me to do about him?” he asked, looking down briefly. “I doubt he is happy in my arms.”

Rebecca smiled. “On the contrary, Your Grace,” she said. “His lordship looks rather happy. Would you please assist me by carrying him to the nursery?”

Tommy appeared calm and curious as he stared at his uncle, his little arms grasping the buttons of his waistcoat. The duke stared back at him, his expression unreadable. Sometimes, Rebecca wished she could look into his mind and decipher his thoughts. He could be obvious about his thoughts at times and secretive at other moments.

“Your Grace?” she said, tilting her head. “Will you follow me?”

She smiled encouragingly when he looked at her, but it didn’t have the effect she had hoped for. Instead, he grew more stern, clearing his throat as he strode past her.

“Well, he could have just said yes,” she muttered, following him.

The duke paused and turned back to her. “Did you say something, Miss Barnes?”

Her eyes briefly bulged, startled he had heard her. “Oh, ah, I said I could do with a warming ointment,” she lied. “For my calf,” she clarified.

She made a point of scrunching her face up in pain and lifting the offending leg off the floor. The duke took her word at face value and continued on his way, his strides purposeful and powerful. It allowed her to admire his back and how his lean muscles moved under his clothing. Rebecca had always admired the human physique, seeing it for the miracle it was.

However, the duke made her appreciate the male form even more. His tiny waist should have made him seem feminine, but it was balanced by powerful shoulders and legs that went on for days. He had to do quite a bit of exercise to have leg muscles like that. His rump—

“Argh!” she cried, squeezing her eyes tight and biting her lower lip.

At this rate, she might become a wanton woman. She wasn’t a young girl in the throes of passion, but a spinster respected by many. She shouldn’t be thinking about the duke like this.

“Is something the matter, Miss Barnes?” he asked.

Rebecca’s eyes popped open. The duke was looking at her strangely—she could only imagine what he was thinking. She slowly released her lip, noticing how he swallowed hard.

“It’s just my cramp, Your Grace. “But I’ll be fine. I just need to massage it. Please continue. I’ll meet you in the nursery in a moment.”

He nodded, turning away. Rebecca made a point of staring at everything else but the gorgeous man before her. The paintings along the walls looked interesting, especially those with frolicking nymphs at a waterfall. The artist had given them some coverage, but it did nothing to take away from their allure.

The other paintings were also water-themed, something she hadn’t noticed before. Eventually, she reached the nursery, finding the duke standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. She nearly chuckled, finding him adorable.

“Do you mind sitting with his lordship for a while?” she asked. “Just until I end this cramp. It’s rather painful and will hinder me from caring for his lordship as I should.”

The duke sighed, nodding. “Very well. Your cramp cannot be helped, I suppose. In the future, you should have one other person with you at all times. Nanny Baker or the wet nurse if Miss Ayres is not available.”

“You are quite right, Your Grace,” she said. “I shall not make this blunder again.”

She didn’t want to bother telling him that since her arrival, Nanny Baker has taken it upon herself to have as many breaks as possible, often sitting in the kitchen and gossiping. The housekeeper could deal with that.

The wet nurse was probably eating to ensure she produced enough milk for Tommy and her own child. Fortunately, the countess had agreed to breastfeed Tommy at least once a day, but no one other than Rebecca and Alice were to know. It simply wasn’t done for aristocratic mothers to breastfeed their own children.

Rebecca took a plain cream from a drawer, warming it in her hands before massaging her left calf. She hadn’t bothered to wear stockings because her dress was long enough to drag on the floor, so she had to slip her hand under her dress without lifting it in the front and revealing her ankles.

She would hate to be labelled a seducer simply because she showed her ankles to the duke. It was rather amusing, considering women wore dresses with half their bosoms exposed, but a woman’s ankles were somehow a more sensual part of her body.

After a moment, she looked up, grinning at the scene before her. The duke was bouncing his nephew on his knee, but the look of discomfort on his face revealed he was slightly terrified of the tiny human in his arms. It was his second time carrying him, after all.

The duke caught her smiling and frowned. “What is so amusing, Miss Barnes?”

“You can be more at ease with your nephew, Your Grace,” she said. “He will not bite. Well, he can, but it won’t be painful.”

Tommy seemed to want to prove that point by grabbing one of the duke’s fingers and biting it briefly before babbling in his baby talk. A look of wonder smoothed the duke’s creased brow as he looked down, smiling at his nephew. The scene was beautiful and perfect, making her yearn for a life she had already dismissed.

Rebecca couldn’t stop a lovely warmth from unfurling in the centre of her belly and travelling to the rest of her body. The duke was precisely the kind of husband and father she wanted for herself. That thought was enough to make her sit up straighter. Tommy began fussing, his body reminding him of his nap time.

“What do I do?” the duke asked, his eyes wide with terror.

It was amazing to think that such a tiny creature could invoke such a feeling in a large man. It showed just how tender his heart was.

“He needs to sleep,” she told him, rising to her feet. “I’ll take him from you before he begins to bellow. We wouldn’t want that.”

“No, we certainly wouldn’t,” the duke agreed.

Rebecca hid her grin in Tommy’s neck, softly talking to him as his sweet scent enveloped her nose. She loved the way babies smelled, especially when they were clean. That would soon change because little boys tended to stink to high heaven. She walked around the room, dropping kisses on his heavy lids and plump cheeks as she told him what a good baby he was.

Affection was important for children, and Lady Oakham had given her the right to use whatever method necessary to make her child happy. She fully expected the duke to have left but found him still sitting in the chair, watching her. Shyness crept over her as she looked away, wondering what he was thinking.

He was either judging her or watching how she cared for his nephew. Hopefully, it was the latter. He certainly wasn’t admiring her because she wasn’t anything special. Rebecca had always felt she was rather plain-looking but cleaned up well when she wanted to.

“Why don’t you have a family of your own?” he asked out of nowhere. “You are a natural with babies.”

That was a rather personal question she had already answered some weeks ago at their little dinner party. He must not have been listening.

“I suppose I haven’t found anyone who interests me enough to think about marriage.” Except for him. “Also, there’s that little matter of our family curse.”

“Family curse?”

Rebecca was surprised she had said anything about it. It’s not something she willingly revealed to people, but she felt comfortable doing so with the duke.

“Most of the men in our family tend to die before they reach their thirtieth birthday,” she explained. “It has happened to at least four generations of women in our family. Their poor wives become widows and have to look after their children alone. I wouldn’t want to do that to myself or my children.”

The duke didn’t laugh about it or immediately criticize the story like many others had in the past. Rather, he seemed more interested.

“What if you married a man older than thirty?” he asked. “Would the curse still apply?”

“Oh, well, I never really thought about it like that,” she said. “Perhaps marrying an older man would be best for me. He would be more mature as well, which is good. Older men are also generally more patient with their wives and offspring. Why didn’t any of the women in my family think of that?”

The duke had strangely turned a bright shade of pink, perplexing her. He appeared embarrassed, but he was the one who asked the question.

“Would you please excuse me, Miss Barnes?” he asked. “I still have much work to do.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” she replied. “Thank you for helping me.”

He nodded, hurrying out of the room. She frowned at the empty doorway, confused about his sudden change in behaviour. Tommy made a tiny wail, bringing her focus back to him.

“Yes, you have all my attention,” she assured, rocking him back and forth.

The duke’s words came back to her, making her wonder if he could be right. Interestingly, he was over thirty.

“Oh, no, Rebecca,” she said, shaking her head. “You are not going to take that road of thinking. He is certainly not for you.”

And she wasn’t for him.