A Lady of Persuasion (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #3)

“Well, I know it’s not me,” Lucy said. Her chin ducked. “Is it?”


“No.” He nodded toward two women sitting under a beech tree: their hostess, Marianne Waltham, and Sophia’s sister, Kitty. “Looks like Felix has finally hit the mark.”

“Oh, thank heavens. Kitty’s been waiting so long. For a moment there, I thought you meant Marianne again.”

They laughed together. Henry, as the first to marry, had them all bested with six children … but so far, Toby judged, no seventh on the way.

“Is Isabel up at the house?” he asked.

“What an old, complacent husband you’ve become. You went all of five minutes without asking after her. Yes, she took the baby for his feeding, a short time ago.” She touched the back of her fingers to her own child’s cheek. “You will talk to Jeremy, about the boys and hunting?”

“Yes, of course. I have my ways of making him listen.”

“I know you do, brilliant politician that you are. And Jeremy would never let on, but I know he respects your opinion immensely.” A breeze feathered her dark-brown curls, and she tilted her face to it. “As do I. Now that Aunt Matilda’s gone … besides Henry and Marianne, this group is all the family we have. You must promise me you’ll never stop returning to Waltham Manor each year.”

“Are you jesting? Isabel and Lyddie love it here. You couldn’t keep us away.”

“Good,” she said. “This has never really been a hunting party, Toby. It’s always been a family party, long before any of us married. And you were always the one who held us together, with your affable nature and warmth. You taught a handful of surly, wounded orphans what it was to be happy and secure, surrounded by people who care.” She gave him a self-conscious smile.

“That must be why I was so in love with you, all those years.”

“Oh, were you?” he teased, remembering the way she’d clung to him all those autumns, like a spindly second shadow. “I never guessed.”

“Liar.” She lifted one eyebrow. “But here is something I’ve never told you.” Despite the fact there was no one but a sleeping infant to hear, she leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you know, that year you brought Sophia here … I was so desperate with jealousy, I planned to sneak into your room and seduce you, so you’d have to marry me instead.”

Toby’s jaw went slack. No, he hadn’t known that. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

“Well, what happened? I suppose you came to your senses in time.”

“In a way,” she said, smiling impishly. “I somehow ended up in Jeremy’s room instead.” Her head made a pensive tilt, and she looked up at him, a girlish vulnerability shining in her green eyes. “I sometimes wonder, though … what would have happened if I’d found my way to yours?”

“What indeed.” He chucked her under the chin. It was a tender, reassuring gesture honed through years of practice—a gesture he often used with his daughter now. “Lucy,” he said,

“please take this in the kindest possible way. I’m very glad we’ll never know.”

Slowly … gingerly … easy now.

Bel lowered her sleeping baby to the bedding. She rocked his cradle gently, keeping one palm flat on his tiny belly until his rhythmic breaths told her he’d fallen into a deep sleep. Still she stood there, admiring the tiny notch carved in his earlobe, and the sweet curve of his eyelashes fluttering against a rounded, cherubic cheek. Such a beautiful, perfect boy. Love swelled within her, until her heart ached.

“Duérmete, mi amor,” she whispered. Sleep, my love. When she’d first married, Bel had been terrified by the intense emotions her husband inspired in her. Gradually, with Toby’s patience and care, she’d learned to delight in their shared passion rather than fear it. But nothing could have prepared her for this—the fierce, boundless love a mother felt for her children. There was no controlling this emotion, and certainly no way to separate it from fear.

As she watched her baby sleep so innocently, guarding him with the light pressure of one palm, it pierced her heart to acknowledge that, no matter how she and Toby tried to protect him, no matter how tightly they wrapped him in love—this child would inevitably know pain, illness, danger, sorrow.

But he would never know them at his mother’s hand. Of that much, Bel felt assured. The door creaked softly behind her.

“Only me,” a familiar voice whispered. “Don’t be startled.”

The door clicked shut just as quietly, and moments later, strong arms cinched around her waist. Toby settled his chin on her shoulder. “Is he asleep?”

“Yes, just.”

“Good.” His lips grazed the sensitive place beneath her ear, and the kiss echoed in the soles of her feet. Bel released a sigh of pleasure. He always knew just where to kiss her, to set her knees quivering.