Mama,” she said bluntly. “We must talk.” She blew out a breath, upsetting a black curl that had mutinied from her other tamed curls. Her emerald green gaze slowly landed on her thirteen-month-old little brother, Mr. Andrew Richardson, who was currently being held by Nell. “This was not at all what I was promised.”
James’s gaze slowly slid to his beautiful wife who was holding their son in her arms. Nell’s gaze met his, and she pursed her lips together to keep from grinning.
“I fear we’re in for a good verbal thrashing, my love,” Nell whispered over her cup of tea for her husband’s ears only. “She looks properly outraged.”
“She didn’t even say ‘good morning,’” James added.
He patted the chair to his immediate left. “Come and join us. Have you had breakfast, poppet?”
“That’s the problem,” she mumbled as she took her seat. In a very dignified manner for an eight-year-old, she scooted to the edge of her chair and clasped her hands together. reminiscent of a governess ready to scold her charges. “Abigail and I were having breakfast in the nursery when Andrew toddled in and pulled Abigail’s hair. She was in such shock that she immediately fell off the chair.” She glanced Andrew’s way and lifted a haughty brow. “He made himself right at home in her place and ate her biscuits.”
The baby was so enthralled with his big sister that he reached a hand toward her and squealed, “Tee.”
Valentina rolled her eyes. “He can’t even say my name correctly. As you can plainly see, that’s another problem.” She shook her head in consternation. “This simply won’t do. Andrew is certainly a dear, but he’s messy with his food. He has a tendency to”—she leaned close as if divulging a secret—“soil himself without a care as to who might be offended by the smell.”
Nell’s eyes softened. “Love, he can’t help it. He’s not even two.”
Valentina sniffed for good measure. “And he hurts Abigail’s feelings.”
Andrew smiled a near-toothless grin his sister’s way.
Valentina released a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll admit he has a certain charm, but we must simply come to an accord. Dare I say we must work out a compromise?”
“And what might that be?” James asked, winking at Nell.
Whenever he did that it was always as if they shared a small secret just between the two of them. In the two years they’d been married, he’d been her knight errant and fiercest companion, not to mention the most ardent lover a woman could ever desire. Instinctively, she leaned a little closer and captured his scent, one she’d recognize forever—her true love, her mate, the father of her children, the man who’d made all her dreams possible.
Valentina straightened in her chair. “You must sleep with one another again. I’d like a new sibling.”
Nell had never seen their daughter so serious. James carefully replaced the piece of bacon that he’d been about to eat on the plate before him.
“A sister this time, if you please,” she said with a nod.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Miss Valentina, there you are.” Her new governess, Miss Adam, walked into the room, followed by Miss Owens.
“It’s time for your lessons,” the governess announced.
“And I’m here to take the baby for his morning bath,” Miss Owens added.
Valentina shared a conspiratorial look with her father and Nell. “Before Andrew, I never much cared for etiquette lessons. I find them essential now. Never fear, Mama and Papa, I shall teach my brother everything I learn. He’ll not be a heathen much longer.” With that she bounced out of the chair and ran to Miss Adam.
The kind governess smiled their way then took Valentina’s hand as their daughter chatted like a magpie. Nell only caught a few phrases, but apparently, their daughter was describing Andrew’s latest transgressions in the nursery room.
Miss Owens took the baby and left the room, chatting about the day she had planned for him.
James reached over and took Nell’s hand in hers. His mirth was apparent when he chuckled. “I believe our daughter will have a tight grip on our son’s leading strings for quite a while.”
“And loving every minute, I’m sure.” Nell brought their clasped hands close to her heart and squeezed. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked.
“For making me the happiest woman in all the county.”
A slight hint of red colored his cheeks. “Thank you for making me the happiest man in all of England.” He leaned close and pressed his lips against hers. “Valentina brought up compromise, and I wanted to share the conversation I