Chapter 26

Henry took his time changing into fresh attire. Lady Ruth and Mr Bartlett had arrived without prior warning once again. Everyone who knew him understood that he liked fair warning in advance, allowing him to accept or reject the visit. Lady Ruth undoubtedly knew this, yet she had made it a habit to simply arrive and expect him to entertain her. Henry felt cornered. He didn’t know if that had been her intention, but it certainly seemed so.

Putting a comb through his hair, he removed the flour his nephew had happily forced into it. Seeing Tommy so happy was one of Henry’s greatest joys, especially when his nephew giggled uncontrollably.

He never knew how much a child’s laughter could bring happiness to a family, and he likely would have never known if not for Rebecca. Not only did she help Tommy become a happier baby, but she also encouraged Henry to have a relationship with him instead of keeping his distance.

His family owed the gifted nursemaid more than money could ever repay. He understood she was doing a job, but what she had done had gone so much further than a mere job. That morning was an example of how much love and effort she put into everything she did, and he almost ruined the moment because his emotions had overwhelmed him, causing him to behave out of character.

The gift-giving had been unexpected, and when he had seen the personalized gifts for his aunt, sister, and nephew, he knew his had to be just as beautiful. No one close to him had ever made something for him. They had always had someone else make or buy it from a shop. Knowing his gift came from her heart had rendered him tongue-tied and unsure of his reaction.

The woman he had feelings for had made him a gift—a man could never act normal about it. Henry’s first reaction would have been to gush. He had felt it rising within him, so he had stamped it down the only way he knew how: being his stern, distant self. He wanted to open his gift in his room and have the freedom to react however he wished. However, Henry’s heart had ached when he saw Rebecca’s crestfallen expression, immediately regretting his decision.

He tried to act like nothing was wrong and continued eating. Eventually, he could no longer ignore the hurt in her eyes and made up an excuse about wanting to open the gift after breakfast. Rebecca had accepted that lie with a smile, making him feel more guilty.

To top it all off, he had blatantly revealed his jealousy at the mere thought that she would make a handkerchief for another man. It had been a primal reaction, something another man would likely understand.

Pride, possessiveness, jealousy—these feelings had pushed his common sense out of the way and taken control of his words and behaviour. Henry wasn’t proud of the moment but hoped he had redeemed himself during their baking activity.

Finally ready, he dragged his feet to the parlour, not looking forward to seeing his visitors. This wasn’t fair on Lady Ruth because she deserved better, but Henry couldn’t change his feelings. Not that he wanted to. While Lady Ruth was a more appropriate choice merely due to her status and upbringing, Rebecca had so much more. Henry didn’t know what he was missing until she revealed it to him!

“Your Grace,” Lady Ruth said, smiling as he entered the room.

She and Mr Bartlett stood up, giving him his due as the duke before sitting down after a brief nod from him. Henry was a tad annoyed his sister had not appeared yet, leaving him to entertain their visitors alone.

“How are you, Your Grace?” Lady Ruth asked.

“Well, thank you,” he replied, settling in the nearest armchair. It happened to be the furthest chair from them. “I hope the same can be said for you?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she replied, her smile widening.

“Lady Ruth is always a ray of sunshine, Your Grace,” Mr Bartlett commented. “I’ve always felt that her golden hair and bright blue eyes fit her disposition well.”

The true ray of sunshine was the pretty nursemaid upstairs. Rebecca embodied everything warm, kind, sweet, and comforting like no one else he had ever known. However, he couldn’t not respond to the vicar’s comment about the woman he had once courted.

“Lady Ruth does her family’s name proud,” he said, the compliment sounding rather flat to his ears.

However, Lady Ruth still beamed at him, pleased with what he had said. Guilt pricked his conscience. He was giving her crumbs from his table, but she still seemed perfectly happy. That wasn’t right, especially when he promised to resume their courtship. However, situations changed, and Henry was no longer certain about making Lady Ruth his wife and Duchess of Dorset.

“Will Lady Oakham not be joining us, Your Grace?” Lady Ruth asked.

If he didn’t know any better—or rather, he assumed he knew better—he would have said Lady Ruth looked hopeful at the possibility that his sister might not join them. That was odd, considering the women were friends. They had been friends before he showed any interest in Lady Ruth.

Surely, their friendship had not grown cold, not when Lady Ruth had been supportive towards Juliana after Thomas’ death. Yet, a memory slid into his mind, leading him to believe something was wrong. It had been the day Rebecca arrived, and he had protested the nursemaid’s presence in the house.

Juliana had provided resistance against relying on Lady Ruth for support, but she hadn’t explained the reason. However, he had seen a strange look in her eyes that he sporadically thought about whenever something triggered his memory.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting,” Juliana said as she entered the room. “I had a little something to do along the way. How are you, Lady Ruth? And you, Mr Bartlett? I hope the church is well? I apologize for not attending as often as I used to. Leaving the house has been nearly impossible until recently.”

Henry stared at his sister, surprised to see how cheerfully she greeted their visitors. He hadn’t seen her like this in months. Juliana used to be a wonderful hostess, making everyone feel welcome and at ease in her presence. That changed after Thomas’ death. It became Aunt Hannah’s or Henry’s responsibility because his sister simply wasn’t interested in dealing with guests. Judging by Lady Ruth and Mr Bartlett’s expressions, they were just as surprised.

“Well, the church is not the same without you,” Mr Bartlett said once he had sufficiently recovered. “We would be honoured with your presence once you feel ready to attend again.”

“That might be sooner than later,” Juliana replied, smiling.

“We’re glad to see you in such high spirits, My Lady,” said Lady Ruth. “How is your son? I trust he is also doing well?”

“He is wonderful!” Juliana exclaimed. “You’ll see for yourself in a moment. Miss Barnes should be along shortly with him.”

Henry sat a little straighter in his seat, perking up at her mention of Rebecca. Suddenly, Lady Ruth and the vicar’s visit wasn’t so tedious.

“Oh, that is lovely,” Lady Ruth replied, although she didn’t seem enthusiastic about it.

Aunt Hannah appeared moments later, greeting their visitors before sitting near him. He frowned, noticing a wary look on her face as she glanced at Lady Ruth. Perhaps he was misreading her expression. His aunt had no reason to feel uncomfortable around the younger woman, and as far as he knew, they got along rather well.

After convincing himself that he was reading into things that simply were not there, he found himself awaiting Rebecca’s arrival. He looked at their seating arrangement, inwardly grinning, when he realized the seat beside him would be her most obvious choice.

It was closest to his sister, who would wish to sit with her son. However, if Rebecca handed Tommy to Juliana, she could easily take the chair beside Mr Bartlett. Henry almost growled at the thought. He didn’t want her anywhere near the vicar.

“Henry,” his sister called, rousing him from his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Why are you scowling into space?” she asked, her voice hushed.

Henry hadn’t realized his thoughts had bled into his face. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to relax his features. The others seemed occupied by whatever Mr Bartlett was talking about, so no one else seemed to have noticed him.

“It’s nothing,” he answered. “I was merely thinking of something. Didn’t you say Miss Barnes would join us with Tommy?”

Juliana nodded. “They should be here any moment.”

No sooner had she spoken than Rebecca, holding his babbling nephew, entered the room. Everyone turned to her, causing the pretty nursemaid to smile shyly, dipping slightly to show respect to their visitors. She moved to the chair between him and his sister, bringing a smile to his face. The feeling of someone watching him made him turn away, catching Lady Ruth and Mr Bartlett looking at him.

The vicar appeared amused, but Lady Ruth’s eyes flashed in anger. However, they quickly schooled their features into polite smiles, leaving Henry perplexed. His attention was pulled away as Tommy squealed in protest. The reason brought a blush to Henry’s cheeks.

The little boy’s hand was firmly planted in Rebecca’s bodice and refused to be moved away. Rebecca appeared just as embarrassed as she tried to coax his nephew to release her and go to his mother, who was chuckling at his antics.

“Tommy,” said Juliana, scolding him lightly. “Let go of Miss Barnes this instant. This is not how you treat women.”

“Give him my necklace,” Aunt Hannah said, removing the gold jewellery around her neck. “It kept him interested the last time.”

Juliana thanked her, taking it and dangling it before her son. Tommy’s eyes fixated on the jangling jewellery, his hand slowly leaving Rebecca’s bodice as he attempted to grab it. His sister put him on her lap, bouncing him slightly while avoiding getting hit by the necklace he was now rather violently shaking. Henry caught Rebecca subtly adjusting her bodice, her slender hand ensuring she was covered.

Tommy hadn’t pulled it down much, but the weight of his plump hand had hinted at the swell of her bosom with just a tiny taste of cleavage on display. Henry grew hot just thinking about it. Displeased with his thoughts, he uncomfortably shifted in his seat. Rebecca didn’t deserve anyone ogling her like she was nothing but an object of desire.

“His lordship looks much healthier than the last time I saw him,” Lady Ruth commented, drawing attention to herself. “What have you been feeding him?”

Henry couldn’t decide if that was a compliment or criticism. He gave her the benefit of the doubt and went with the former.

“Just milk for the moment, but he’ll be on solids next month,” his sister replied, cuddling her son. “He’s so much healthier and happy, and I love the folds in his arms and legs. Not to mention his cheeks! I just want to nuzzle them all the time.”

“He shouldn’t get too big,” Lady Ruth warned. “I’ve seen babies who can hardly walk because they’re just too fat.”

“Oh, Miss Barnes is well aware of that,” his sister said dismissively. “She knows precisely what she is doing. Not a part of Tommy isn’t carefully studied and treated accordingly. He even gets daily massages, so he rarely suffers from stomach problems like other babies. He is perfectly happy and content, and I couldn’t be happier.”

Juliana turned to Rebecca, covering the nursemaid’s hand with her own and squeezing it gently with a smile. Henry smiled at the pair, frowning slightly when he noticed a bit of flour behind Rebecca’s ear. Not an ounce of thought was put into whether he should reach out and wipe the flour away—he just did it, startling her.

Rebecca placed her hand on the area, staring at him as though he had taken leave of his senses, her cheeks a bright pink hue. Henry was confused at first. He had merely removed a little flour, but his mind soon kicked some common sense into him, revealing what he had just done. Henry sheepishly looked around, realizing with an inward groan that everyone was staring. He could only imagine what they were thinking.

“She had a little flour behind her ear,” he explained, wincing at the absurdity of his words. That didn’t explain why he felt the need to remove it. “We started a new tradition of making Christmas puddings,” he continued when no one said anything. “We all got a little messy.”

Lady Ruth’s eyes widened. “Christmas pudding?” she repeated, sounding aghast at the very thought. Her attention suddenly snapped to Rebecca with slightly narrowed eyes. “Was this your doing, Miss Barnes?”

“It certainly was,” Juliana replied, “and I have never enjoyed myself more. I think Tommy had the most fun because he couldn’t stop throwing flour at everyone. The poor kitchen maids have quite a mess to deal with.” She kissed her son tenderly. “We’ll be doing it yearly from now on. It’s our first festive tradition. It’s too bad we cannot enjoy the fruits of our labour until the new year. We made our pudding too late.”

“It was a wonderful morning, wasn’t it?” Aunt Hannah added, smiling. “I never thought that making Christmas pudding would be so rewarding, so I’m thankful to Miss Barnes for ...”

Her words suddenly trailed off as she glanced at Lady Ruth, who gave her a strange look. Aunt Hannah seemed to shrink as she momentarily looked down at her hands before focusing on Tommy. Henry didn’t know what to make of that.

One thing was quite certain—he didn’t like whatever it was. It was unlike Hannah to act in such a way. Something was wrong, but it was odd because his aunt and Lady Ruth got along well. Perhaps it was just a misunderstanding of some sort.

“Making Christmas puddings is certainly different,” said Lady Ruth. “You say you will do this every year, Lady Oakham?”

“Yes, we will,” his sister confirmed. “Creating something with your hands is rewarding.”

“That is what painting and embroidery is for,” Lady Ruth pointed out, laughing a little.

Although she was polite, one could tell she disapproved of the tradition. While Henry understood where Lady Ruth was coming from, he would rather see his sister happy than follow the rules of society. He observed his sister, hoping Lady Ruth had not offended her, but she still seemed happy as she helped his nephew clap his hands. Rebecca reached over with a cloth, wiping a bit of drool from the side of his mouth.

“Do babies normally drool this much?” Juliana asked.

“It’s perfectly normal,” Rebecca replied. “Some babies drool far more and need to wear a protective cloth around their necks. I’d be more surprised if his lordship didn’t drool a little.”

“Well, then, he should drool away!” Henry’s sister said, laughing. “A little saliva doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Rebecca and his sister seemed in their own world as they discussed his nephew, with Aunt Hannah interjecting with a few questions of her own. Mr Bartlett’s gaze rarely wavered from Rebecca, but Henry wasn’t surprised.

The vicar had made his interest in her rather evident, which made Henry more protective of her. He wouldn’t allow the man any alone time with her. Lady Ruth, however, surprised him with her barely veiled look of distaste on her pretty face. She was visibly uncomfortable with Tommy in the room.

Henry had expressed he wanted children with whomever he might marry, and he expected that woman to be a mother. Lady Ruth’s behaviour did nothing to reassure him that she would make a good mother.

She was undoubtedly perfect in other ways, but Henry wasn’t willing to ignore this behaviour in favour of her other attributes. Her lack of motherly instincts was concerning, and he was worried she would withhold affection from their children, just as his mother had done. The last thing Henry wanted was a repeat of his childhood.

Rebecca had shown him how much better life could be, and now he didn’t want to settle for anything less. Not only did his children deserve a loving mother, but he also deserved a loving wife. Unfortunately, Lady Ruth could no longer fulfill his needs. Henry needed to tell her he didn’t wish to resume their courtship, but he wasn’t sure how to do it without hurting the woman.

After all, he had given her hope, and now he would crush it. The thought sat uncomfortably within him, but he couldn’t allow her to continue thinking she might become his wife. The sooner he told her, the better.