you loved to feed our little Howie before you smothered him with your Goddamn pillow?
My breath hitches. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve tugged down the hem of my bodice. My breast pops out, heavy with milk, and a second later Rose latches.
The sensation of that small, hot, wet little mouth sends a shudder through me. I want to pull her away, my face burning how aghast I am at what I’ve done, but…
But she’s nursing. Flecks of pale foam dot her lips as she sucks, and sucks, and sucks. And then I can’t pull her away anymore than I could have lifted that pillow.
Brandon
“’Spose we’ll be sending her back then, m’lord,” Mrs. Potter says, voice like a winter twig against a windowpane.
I turn, frowning hard as she descends the stairs above me. “How so?”
“The babe ain’t takin’ that bottle. Not from anyone. ’Specially no’ from her.”
My stomach turns to lead.
I thought she’d be the one. For some reason, the moment I saw her head full of curls, and her plain yet well-cut clothes, I was convinced she was the angel I’d been praying for.
The one I’d sell my soul to Lucifer for, had it been in a state the Devil would accept as barter.
“Give it time,” I say through my teeth, taking the stairs two at a time and meeting Mrs. Potter halfway for my efforts. She pauses a step above me, now eye-level, and stares me down for all but a second before dropping her gaze. “As you say, m’lord.”
With that, she hurries past me, for all the world as if I’ve offended her.
Fuck that, it will be as I say. Time’s run out. If Pippa isn’t the nanny I’ve been searching for, then I will have to travel with Rose into town and find myself a nanny or a nurse capable of taking care of her.
Perhaps I’ll finally have enough courage to put her up for adoption. At this point, I’d do anything to save Rose’s life…even if it meant I’d never be able to see my child again. Even if that last vestige of Alaine was removed from my life.
My thoughts are so dour that my movements become slow and quiet. The door makes barely a sound when I push it open. My broad feet hardly seem to touch the floor. I’m a big man, and one accustomed to people knowing the moment I’ve arrived. Mayhap that’s the reason why, when I step into my bedroom, I turn to stone. Why, even though every fiber of my being is screaming at me that I’m a perverted sinner who’s surely turned away from God, I can’t look away.
Rose is latched to Pippa’s breast. The sight of that perfectly formed breast sends a pulse of blood through my cock, stiffening it slightly, but at the same time I feel as though this stranger, this woman I’ve only just met, has wronged me on a deep, deep level.
“What do you think you’re doing?” My voice is so thick, so rough, I’m surprised she can even make out what I’m saying.
As if she were in a trance, Pippa lifts her head and blinks at me a few times. Then reality must finally dawn on her, because she lets out a gasp, plucks Rose from her teat, and does her best to try and cover her breast.
I’m already storming over. I snatch Rose from her lap, avert my eyes from her puckered, dusty-rose nipple, and turn my back. Rose hiccups, and begins wailing in my ear. I’m shaking so hard, it’s an effort to put my child back in her crib, and I feel every second that I’m holding her increases her chances of me breaking apart her tiny body.
When I turn back, Pippa’s on her feet, palms on her face as if to try and suppress the blush suffusing her cheeks.
“How dare you?” My words shoot out like projectiles. I step up to her, expecting her to dart away. Instead, she stands her ground, merely ducking her head like a child caught in an act of mischief. “How fucking dare you?”
Rose’s wails transform into screeches. My body still trembles in fury, and even running my hands through my hair does nothing to tame me. “Get out.”
“No.” And then, despite my rage, Pippa lifts her chin and stares me down with wild, limpid eyes. “She will starve.”
I splutter. My hands curl into fists. But all I can do is watch as this previously demure woman — a girl, really —