Page 54 of Stolen By the Duke of Stone

Our boy.

Jessamine felt her eyes sting. Rebecca hadn’t just been her friend or Andrew’s cousin; she had belonged to all of them, and now so did William, in a way. And knowing how far her friends would go to defend him touched her more than she could say.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at each of them in turn. “It means so much to me to know that you—any of you—want to look out for our sweet boy.”

“Oh, of course!” Temperance gushed. “Even if we had not cared for Rebecca the way we did, how could we ever turn our backs on you? What is your burden is ours to bear.”

“Ours to share,” Lady Marwich corrected. “No harm will come to him.”

Unable to bear being apart from William, Jessamine collected him from Lucy and held him against his chest, supporting his head as he peered, wide-eyed, at the world around them.

“Sometimes, I get afraid,” she confided. “Rebecca entrusted him to me, but what if I fail them both somehow? What if William isn’t safe with me after all? What if I’m not up to being responsible for him? I thought I was, but…” Her voice trailed off.

She had been so determined to care for him single-handedly, she had given no consideration to the wider world and the role William would eventually play in it.

Irene placed her hand on her stomach as she stared at Jessamine thoughtfully. “You know,” she said, “no one has given me a treatise on how to be a mother. Oh, I know such things exist, but I put very little stock in them, because they are largely about how one remains virtuous while raising a virtuous child, and heaven knows I was not a virtuous child, nor do I expect my baby to be.”

She slid her hand up the minuscule bump now visible.

“I mean the real parts of motherhood,” she continued. “I know what I want: for my baby to enter the world and be sure of itself and to be safe and well-protected, and to grow to be happy. But there are so many expectations placed on its head already, and it hasn’t even been born yet. How am I supposed to know what to do?”

“No one ever truly knows,” Lady Marwich said. “Some claim they do, but we are all human, and we all make mistakes. The most important thing is that William is secure and loved. You have a husband and his title to provide security, and you are more than capable of offering him love. That’s truly all that matters, and this comes from a woman who has raised a son.”

Jessamine kissed the top of William’s perfect head.

“Thank you.” Her voice wobbled, but she endeavored to keep it steady. “Thank you all so much.”

Irene accompanied Jessamine home, and followed Jessamine up to her bedchamber. “Well?” she demanded the moment they were alone. “I know there’s something else you’re not telling me.”

Jessamine slumped on the bed. Not, thankfully, the bed she had defiled with her husband. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because we are sisters. Joined by blood! We are one soul. And also, we lived together for several months, and I know when you’re keeping secrets. So, Jessie. Are you going to tell me your secrets?”

“It’s not a secret,” Jessamine said.

“Is it about the duke?”

Jessamine fell back and stared at the ceiling. “It feels as though everything in my life is about the duke.”

“Well?” Irene fell on the bed beside her, dislodging her pillows. “What is it? Did something happen? I’ve noticed the way he looks at you.”

Jessamine sent a sharp glance at her sister. “And how does he look at me?”

“Like he wants to skin anyone alive who makes you laugh. And also like he wants to undress you with his teeth.” Irene smirked. “Believe me when I say I recognize that look on a man’s face.”

Jessamine put both hands over her face. “Irene.”

“What? Are you telling me nothing of that nature occurred?”

“Well…” Jessamine dropped her hands. “Perhaps it did.”

“I knew it! But tell me everything, dearest. You invited us to a picnic today, so evidently whatever passed between you did not result in pledges of undying love.”

“I don’t love him,” Jessamine said with dignity. “I just… It’s complicated.”

“It’s your husband. If it’s not simultaneously complicated and confusing and difficult, then what is it?” She cleared her throat. “But you know, there’s no need to be scared of… of the natural things that pass between a husband and wife.”

“I’m not afraid,” Jessamine said, rolling over to face her sister. “It’s more that I don’t want to risk anything happening to William. If something goes wrong? If I risk my heart and something happens, how can we be there for William? How will he know he’s loved if we can’t stand to look at each other?”