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“What about you, Lord Candleton?” Clara asked. “What part of the opera did you find most compelling?”
He cleared his throat. “Oh, I…” Turning in his seat, he lifted Bea’s hand gallantly. Then he shocked both women by singing in as close to a soprano range as he could reach. “Oh, fair ladies, by far the best part of the opera was…leaving it!”
After a few seconds of shock, Beatrice and Clara howled with laughter. It was the greatest relief Bea had known since fleeing the opera house, and it took her away from the discomfort of her body and soul for a time.
“William! Iknewyou hated the opera!” She shook her head, laughing. “How patient you are to go.”
“I must correct you, my lady. Opera, I do not care for. Going to the opera with you, I adore.”
Clara gave a happy sigh. “You see? Thanks to your charms, Beatrice, Lord Candleton won’t be championing any bills before the House of Lords to outlaw operatic performances!”
William chuckled. “Lady Beatrice Dalfour, Marchioness of Candleton, patroness and protector of the arts!”
By the time they finished laughing, the carriage was, mercifully, coming to a stop. The coachman would continue on to Clara’s townhouse afterwards; though William had offered to escort Clara home, she had insisted he go in with Bea.
“Mercy,” Bea muttered as she approached their front door with urgency, ecstatic to be home. She was beyond caring about comporting herself in a ladylike fashion.
As soon as the butler opened the door, Miriam’s whimpering was audible from the back parlor. Beelining for her, Bea rushed, dropping her wrap as she entered the room.
“You did well,” she complimented the nursemaid, who’d had the foresight not only to wait for her here rather than upstairs in the nursery, but to have Bea’s lady’s maid on hand.
Her maid unfastened her gown down the back with as much haste as possible. Shivering, both from discomfort and the relief that was near, Bea crooned to Miriam. “I’m here! I’m here!”
Tears shot down Bea’s face when finally, Miriam latched onto her breast. She stroked her daughter’s tears from her plump cheeks as she drank with zeal. Her maid fetched a fresh shawl to wrap around her, then she and Hannah left Bea in peace.
After the babe switched sides, bringing new relief, Bea finally relaxed into the chair, laughing softly, looking down at her ruined evening gown. “I won’t cry over spilt milk.”
Unimpressed with her mother’s humor, Miriam continued suckling, staring at the blood-red gems around Bea’s neck.
The familiar knock startled Bea, but after covering herself more with the shawl, she bid William to enter. On occasion, he had sat in the dimly lit parlor while she nursed in the evenings, but she was conscious of the puddle of stained silk hanging from her.
“Is all well?”
She nodded. “I was simply gone too long, William. I hadn’t known it would be like that.”
He settled into the settee across from the chair, and rather than choose the farthest side, as he had previously to provide a semblance of privacy, he sat but a few feet away. “Miriam grew too hungry?”
“She was hungry, yes. And I, well”—she shrugged nervously—“I…became too full.”
After a moment, William seemed to understand. “I see. I’m sorry for the ordeal. It seemed like a very pleasant evening.” He smiled. “Until it wasn’t.”
“I’msorry. I shall have to learn how long I can be gone.”
“You shall. Our daughter is fortunate to have such a devoted mother.”
“We are fortunate to have her.”
“Yes, we are,” he said softly. “You missed her, didn’t you?”
Tears burned her eyes. “I did. I know it’s foolish. It was but a few hours! But I missed her so!” Blinking the moisture away, she smiled at her daughter. “She’s smiling back, William! Oh, you silly creature! Now you have milk dribbling every which way.” Using the edge of a soft cloth she kept on hand for just such a task, she cleansed her daughter’s sweet round cheek.
“May I see? Only if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind, William.” Heart pounding, she lowered the shawl, revealing a ruby necklace, a swell of breast, and Miriam’s face.
He approached slowly. Bea had to force her gaze up to watch, wondering what her proper husband would make of this. She melted at his expression as he grazed a knuckle against their daughter’s cheek.
Delighted at the appearance of her father, Miriam unlatched to grin up at him, cooing. His laugh was strained, but he didn’t look away, nor pull his hand away, when Bea’s nipple became visible. She didn’t cover herself, and part of her was shocked, even as the rest of her rationalized it. Miriam would return to nursing soon, after all. And it was William who had insisted on coming close when he had to have been aware of the potential hazard!
