Chapter 5

“I couldn’t possibly hold him,” the duke protested.

“Why?” Rebecca asked, frowning at him. He was behaving as though he had never carried his nephew before. He probably hadn’t, but she was going to remedy that. “He’s just a baby. He won’t eat you.”

She moved the baby towards him, but he jumped back so quickly that she could hardly stifle her laughter. Fortunately, he was so horrified at the thought of carrying his nephew that he didn’t hear the tiny chuckle escape her.

“I might drop him,” he said, holding his arms behind his back.

It was rather adorable, like a child refusing to take his medicine. She held the baby to her chest, rocking side to side.

“You will not drop him,” she said. “You’ve never carried him before, have you?”

“No, I haven’t,” he said, fear still gripping his eyes.

To think he was scared of a tiny human was amusing. “Do you not find that strange?” she asked. “He is already four months old. You need to bond with your nephew. You’re the male presence in his life. Do you not wish to help your nephew?”

“I do ...”

“Then you can begin by carrying him,” Rebecca insisted. “He’s not a newborn, so some of the dangers are not present. However, you still need to ensure you’re holding him securely. Hold out your arms.”

He straightened them, his palms turned downwards. Rebecca sucked her lips in, struggling not to laugh.

“Not like that,” she said. “Turn your palms upwards and bend your elbows a bit.”

She waited for him to comply before carefully placing Tommy in his arms. The duke never budged, but his eyes grew larger. His awkwardness was rather endearing, but they would get nowhere if he couldn’t concentrate on his nephew instead of his fear. Rebecca still kept a firm grip on the baby, but now he was resting in the crook of his uncle’s arms.

“Do not be scared,” she told him. “You just need to be gentle with him.”

“But what if I drop him?” he cried, looking down at his nephew as though he were a snake about to strike.

“Your need to protect will ensure you do nothing of the sort,” she pointed out. “You’re only afraid because you’ve never carried him before. Once you become accustomed to it, it will become second nature to you.”

The duke appeared dubious. “But babies are fragile, and I’m big. Look at my hands.”

They were big and quite lovely. Rebecca could imagine herself being held by those hands and pulled into his arms. While he wasn’t muscular, she could tell he was strong. The duke could probably pick her up and throw her over his shoulder or perhaps carry her bridal style into ... She widened her eyes in shock and grimaced, squeezing her eyes tight in an attempt to block out the image.

“Oh, Rebecca,” she muttered, disappointed with herself.

“What is it?” the duke asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” she assured him, embarrassed she had spoken aloud. She couldn’t very well tell him what she was thinking. “Your big hands will make his lordship more comfortable. In fact, once you’re more comfortable carrying him, you can confidently balance him on one hand. Those are the benefits of big hands.”

“I want to trust you, Miss Barnes,” he said, stilling when the baby began fussing.

“You can,” she assured. “Bend your one arm a little more inward—this will support his head and part of his body. You can use your other hand to support his bottom. Let me show you.” She took Tommy back and demonstrated her instructions. “Understand?”

“I think so,” he said, frowning in uncertainty.

Rebecca smiled. “You’ll be just fine, Your Grace.”

She placed the baby back in his arms, waiting until he had done precisely what she said before she slid her hands away and stepped back.

“Do not leave me like this!” he cried.

“Shush,” she said, holding a finger to her mouth. “His lordship wishes to sleep. Loud noises will annoy him.”

“Fine,” the duke whispered. “But do not leave me like this.”

“You’re doing well, Your Grace,” she told him. “Relax your shoulders and bring him closer to your chest. Let him hear your heartbeat.”

The duke gingerly brought his nephew closer to his body, his fear not budging. However, when Tommy snuggled into him, it seemed to wipe out all thoughts from his head because he merely stared down at his nephew in wonder. She smiled, watching the beginning of an uncle-nephew bond.

“He’s not crying,” he finally said, his voice filled with awe.

“He feels safe and warm,” Rebecca explained. “If not, he would have cried and protested already.”

The duke’s striking blue eyes met hers. “So, he likes me?” he asked, the sudden vulnerability in his voice clawing at her heart.

This man had made her feel many different emotions in just one day. She didn’t know if that would be a good or bad thing in the long run.

“He does,” she confirmed. “You just stand there and bond with him while I wash my hands. You are doing well, Your Grace,” she added.

“Thank you,” he said, returning her smile.

Rebecca quickly looked away, her heart thumping wildly. It was official—his smiles were lethal for her. She needed to work up a defence, or she’d be a mess whenever he did it.

She took her time washing her hands before taking the same washcloth they had used earlier for the excess oil on Tommy’s body. She turned to the duke and his nephew, her smile faltering when she saw them together. He was gently rocking the baby from side to side, looking every bit the doting uncle. More than that, they looked like father and son.

Rebecca felt a twisting in her heart, a longing for something she had already shut her heart against. The image before her reminded her of a long-ago dream of finding the right man and having a family. However, as time passed, she discarded the dream and focused on her profession. It was just as fulfilling, if not more. She just needed to remind herself of that, especially now, looking at this perfect image of man and child. Rebecca couldn’t recall feeling this strongly, though.

They both turned to the doorway when Lady Oakham entered, looking refreshed from her nap. She had some colour in her cheeks and seemed in far better condition than when Rebecca first met her. The countess’s eyes widened as she stared in disbelief at her brother and son. It was the duke’s first time holding his nephew, so it was bound to shock her.

“Henry?” she said, pausing her approach.

Rebecca turned to the duke when she felt him grow tense beside her. He suddenly handed his nephew back to her, excusing himself before he left the room. Lady Oakham watched him walk away, sadness tinging her expression. Rebecca found it odd that neither of them said a word to each other, especially the duke.

He was terribly protective of his sister, yet he couldn’t say a word to her when necessary. It was confusing, to say the least. Rebecca stored the odd exchange between the siblings in her mind, choosing to focus on the task at hand instead.

“Are you feeling better, My Lady?” she asked, patting Tommy’s bottom as he dozed off.

“Yes, much better, thank you,” she said, smiling. “I haven’t felt this rested in months. What was in that tea?”

“Oh, a bit of this and that,” she said, approaching the countess. “Would you like to hold your son? It’s time that mother and child spend some time together.”

Lady Oakham appeared apprehensive, keeping her arms to her sides. “Tommy doesn’t really like me,” she revealed. “He’ll only start crying and seems so well-rested in your arms. He’s usually crying around this hour.”

“Nonsense,” Rebecca countered, earning herself an eyebrow raise. “You are his mother, and I am here to help you bond, starting now. You will take him and change him into his night attire. We first need to wipe him down of any excess oil from his massage.”

“You massaged him?” the countess asked.

“Yes. I felt he needed it. He was quite tense earlier, but now he’s full, clean, and warm. It’s only a matter of changing him and putting him to bed.”

Lady Oakham gnawed her lower lip, still uncertain about taking her son. It made Rebecca wonder how many times she had carried Tommy since his birth. It was rather concerning.

“If you’re sure,” she said doubtfully.

“I am,” Rebecca insisted, depositing the little marquess into his mother’s arms.

She seemed awkward initially, but her motherly instincts soon overtook her fears. She cradled her son next to her chest, kissing his cheeks and forehead.

“You are a natural with him, My Lady,” said Rebecca. “You only need to be confident of your abilities. You share a bond that no one can take away from you. I’m just here to awaken and strengthen it. The magic happens between you and his lordship.”

“This is the first time he has ever been so calm in my arms,” she said. “He’s usually fussing and crying at the top of his lungs. It’s wonderful to see him so calm.”

Rebecca smiled. “This is just the beginning, My Lady. Have you ever changed him before?”

The countess shook her head. “No. Nanny Bates takes care of his bath and attire.”

“Would you like to change him?” Rebecca asked.

She could do all she could to help mother and child, but if the countess were not prepared to put in any work, the situation would be hopeless.

“Oh, I would like that very much, Miss Barnes,” she said eagerly. “I wish to spend as much time as possible with my son.”

“That is precisely what I wished to hear,” Rebecca replied. “You can start by wiping the excess oil off him.”

She handed Lady Oakham the damp washcloth, guiding her movements as she wiped her son down. Changing him into his bed attire was trickier because the countess was concerned she would break her son’s arms and legs by forcing them through holes. When she realized that was not the case, she became more excited, even discussing having more clothes made so she could dress him up.

“As long as it’s nothing too constricting,” Rebecca cautioned. “His lordship needs to move freely. The only time he’ll be confined is when I swaddle him—a method I’ll show you shortly. It makes them feel protected and relaxed.”

“The midwife swaddled him directly after his birth,” Lady Oakham commented. “I always thought it was a confinement of some sort.”

“Even adults enjoy some confinement,” said Rebecca, leading the countess to the rocking chair and helping her into it.

“How so?” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I certainly wouldn’t want to be confined.”

“It all depends on the type of confinement and who is doing the confining,” Rebecca explained. “Many powerful people want a moment when they are completely powerless and at the mercy of someone. It frees their mind. The less fortunate seek confinement to run away from their daily challenges. I will admit that some babies reject being swaddled,” she added. “I have met a few babies like that in my life.”

“What did you do for them?” Lady Oakham asked, rocking back and forth in the chair.

“You leave them to stretch their little limbs,” she said. “However, boundaries must be set a little earlier for them. These babies tend to be too free-willed, so reining them back in a little is essential.”

“So, swaddled babies are better behaved?”

“Not necessarily.” She started removing the bricks from the changing bed, stealing looks at mother and child. “He is just about ready to fall fast asleep. He’s not fighting his fatigue as much as I thought he would.”

“It’s a marvel,” cried Lady Oakham, her eyes wet as she gazed down at her son. “To think we can share a moment like this? It’s already more than I imagined. What else can I do, Miss Barnes? I want my son to know that I love him more than life itself.”

Rebecca paused her movements and turned to the countess. “Well, there is something rather important that I’d like you to do,” she began. “Perhaps tomorrow, you can breastfeed his lordship. At least once.”

Lady Oakham’s eyes widened. “Breastfeed him?”

Rebecca nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Breastfeeding is one of the most powerful ways for mother and child to establish a bond. I know it’s not common for a woman of your bearing, but it will accelerate the strengthening of your bond.”

“Then I’ll do it,” the countess replied fiercely. She looked down at her son. “Anything for him.”

Rebecca smiled, thankful that the countess would be cooperative. She thought about the duke, hoping he would also put in effort. She had enjoyed seeing him vulnerable yet so happy to carry his nephew. He, too, needed some healing, and she wanted to be the one to help him.