barely saw the boy yesterday.”
Emma sipped her coffee as Louisa regaled her with stories of her son. As they walked up to the nursery, Emma could hear George fussing. “The poor thing.”
“Poor me,” Louisa said with a laugh. “Perhaps I should have gotten a wet nurse.”
Emma shook her head. “You would have hated having someone else feed your baby.”
As she walked into the room, Nurse stood with George in her arms as she swayed to and fro, softly singing to him. Seeing Louisa, Nurse handed George to her.
“I am going to have a cup of tea,” Nurse said. “Ring if you need me.”
“Thank you,” Louisa said as she unbuttoned the front of her dress. “Can you hold him for a moment while I get ready?”
Emma pulled George away from his mother only to have him cry in disapproval. “Hush, little boy, your mama is right there.”
“All right. Bring the little scoundrel over here,” Louisa said as she bared her breast.
“Does it hurt?” Emma asked as George latched on and started suckling.
“The first few weeks, it was dreadful, but we finally figured it out, and now we get along just fine, don’t we?” Louisa wiped away a tear from the little boy’s cheek.
As Louisa nursed George, Emma walked to the window and stared out at the expansive gardens. Kingsley’s words flittered through her mind. What did she want? Emma stared out at the pouring rain. The gloomy day had seeped into her mind and soul.
While she used to want marriage for the usual reasons and the thought of children had only been a duty to conserve her husband's title. But seeing both her sisters with their children had changed her mind. The idea of an infant so helpless, save the protection of his mother, touched her heart. Louisa often spoke of the inconceivable love she felt for her son.
If Emma didn’t marry, children were out of the question. She would be compelled to live out her life with Louisa and Harry. As an unmarried woman, she couldn’t own property even if she could make enough money to buy something. Emma didn’t want to be a burden. But after one disastrous engagement, she’d learned what marriage might be like and wanted no part of it.
Once she returned to town, she intended to get back to the items on her list. Even if she still wasn’t convinced about number ten. Perhaps number ten should be to find a position so she would not be a burden. Although finding a position sounded like work, not amusement. Her list was about enjoying herself.
“Are you all well, Emma? You’ve been staring out the window for five minutes without a word.”
“I suppose I am. It is that type of day.”
“Not thinking of Bolton again, are you?”
“No.” She didn’t want to remember the pain he’d caused her. Louisa had tried to gently warn her about Bolton’s regard for his mother over Emma. “I am done thinking about him forever.”
“Good. Bolton was not the right man for you. Can you imagine if you wished to paint in oils with him as your husband? He would have to ask his mother if that was a proper accomplishment for a lady. She would tell him you should stick to needlepoint.”
Emma smiled. “I suppose you’re are correct.”
Louisa glanced out the window and sighed. “I do hope Simon can find some way of comforting Harry.”
“Perhaps Harry will find it easier to speak with his brother, even if Mr. Kingsley didn’t know his natural father.”
Louisa shrugged. “I hope so. Still, Harry and Simon must be chilled to the bone.”
The sound of heavy footsteps hushed them both.
“Are you decent in there, Duchess?”
“One moment, Simon,” Louisa replied. “Hold George for me.”
Emma rose and took the boy out of her sister’s arms, only to have him start crying again.
Louisa smiled over at her son. “Pat his back. He may need to let out a belch.” She adjusted her gown before saying, “Come in now, Simon.”
Kingsley entered the room with a smile until he noticed Emma holding George. His jaw tightened, and his smile disappeared. Emma moved the infant over her shoulder, hoping that would help settle him down. Instead, he now bawled right in her ear.
“Let me take him, Miss Drake.” Kingsley reached out and pulled George up into his arms.
Her dratted nephew stopped crying and smiled at the devil. “How did you do that?”
Louisa laughed. “Don’t be upset, Emma. George does the same thing to me. The minute his uncle picks him up, he stops crying.”
Emma