Page 89 of Stolen By the Duke of Stone

None of this was worth it.

“I’ll do it,” he said. “Even if it kills me, I’ll do it.”

Chapter Thirty

By the time Andrew got back to the house, it was dark, and everything was quiet. Lucy must have retired for the night.

As he did every day, he moved through the darkened house and went straight to the nursery.

Lucy spent her hours caring for William, but there were a few times she wasn’t there, and then he would pick up the babe and cradle him close and remember Rebecca and all his obligations. William always responded well to the affection. More proof that Jessamine was right; children needed affection and love in order to be able to prosper. Not merely routine and structure and the expectations that came with being the heir to a great estate and heavy title.

Andrew had never felt the burden as greatly as he did climbing the stairs to his son. Though he knew he was not the sire, he could not help feeling as though he was William’s father in every respect that mattered. Just as Jessamine was William’s mother.

Jessamine, who wanted more children of her own. He would never know that same urge, not having the same response—his body never carried a child within it, and although he would love any child that they created, it would feel similar to William for him.

Except that a child with Jessamine would have her eyes or hair or smile. They could have a girl and give her the childhood Jessamine had always wanted and missed out on.

Something stirred in him at the thought—a hunger he had been denying himself for so long. Perhaps he deserved a family, or perhaps he didn’t, but he wanted one. He wanted to look Jessamine in the eyes and tell he everything that was wrong with him and beg for her forgiveness.

He finally reached the nursery and held the candle out to illuminate Lucy in the small bed at the corner of the room, and Jessamine slumped in the armchair, her legs curled up under her as she slumbered.

The affection in his chest could not be contained. He ached with how very much he loved her. Even now, when their marriage had become so very shaky, she was still here, keeping watch over William.

After glancing into the crib to ensure William was sleeping well, with tiny rasping breaths as his hands curled into fists, he crouched by Jessamine.

“Hey,” he murmured as he rubbed her arm. This was the most they had touched in five days, and by God, he had missed her. “It’s time to return to bed, sweetheart.”

Her eyelids fluttered, and she looked at him without seeming to see his face. “Andrew?”

“I’m here.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to speak with you.” But perhaps tonight was not the right time. She was tired, probably sore after sleeping curled up in that chair for so long; perhaps he should wait for the morning for her sake. He’d waited this long, so he could wait a little longer. “But first, I think you need to sleep.”

She blinked up at him. “I don’t understand.”

“William is safe here with Lucy. No one is coming into the house. You can go to bed. If you need me to, I can stay with him.” He tugged at her arm, and finally she came, rising to her feet. He noticed she was in her nightgown, probably having slipped into the room after a nightmare about something happening to William.

A nightmare she had to face alone.

No longer.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her from the room. Her body, so close to his. He could feel her heartbeat, and his own body responded to her proximity.

Not now.

Now was very much not the time for those thoughts, even if it was tempting to imagine⁠—

No!

“I don’t understand,” she protested as he shouldered her bedroom door open. “I thought you wanted to avoid me.”

“What I wanted to do and what I did are two entirely different things.” He placed her carefully down on the bed, and she still bounced a little. “But I’m sorry, Jessamine. I shouldn’t have needed that time, and I certainly shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. You made me…” He shook his head. “But we can discuss this tomorrow.”

She sat up, placing a finger against his lips. “You said you wanted to speak to me.”

“I did, but it can wait for the morning. You’re tired.”