“That was not my question.”
“She needed–”
“Have you eaten?”
Frances opened her mouth. Before she could produce whatever stubborn reply she intended, her stomach answered for her…audibly. The sound was small, undignified, and perfectly timed. It made Frances freeze. And this was followed by color flooding her cheeks so quickly that even the low lamplight could not hide it.
Andrew stared at her for half a second, then exhaled through his nose.
“Of course.”
“It is not–” she began.
“This will not do,” he cut her off.
Her eyes narrowed despite her embarrassment. “I beg your pardon?”
“This,” he said, gesturing to her, the chair, the sleeping-gown creases at her cuffs, the child finally beginning to quiet through sheer exhaustion, “will not do.”
“The baby was crying.”
“I can hear that.”
“She would not settle for Nurse Ellis. She would not settle in the cradle. I could hardly leave her.”
“You could have sent for food.”
“I intended to.”
“When? At midnight?”
“That depends upon whether she found midnight agreeable.”
His mouth tightened. Under different circumstances, he might have admired the reply. Under these, it infuriated him, chiefly because his first impulse was still to cross the room and remove the loose hair from her cheek.
Instead, he turned toward the hallway.
“Nurse Ellis.”
His voice carried cleanly, in a sound that was not a shout, but it was still sharp enough to cut through the corridor. This was followed by hurried steps almost at once. Nurse Ellis appeared within moments.
“Your Grace?”
“Take the child.”
Frances stiffened. “Andrew–”
“Nurse Ellis,” he repeated.
The nurse moved forward at once, though her eyes flicked between them with wary concern. Frances looked down at the baby, who had grown quieter now, her little face still blotched from crying. For one brief instant, Frances held her closer.
Andrew saw it. The gesture went through him like pain.
Then, Frances surrendered the child.
“There now, little lamb,” Nurse Ellis murmured, settling the baby against her shoulder. “You have worn Her Grace quite out, haven’t you?”
“I am not worn out,” Frances said.
