Page 41 of Stolen By the Duke of Stone

Jessamine looked out of the window during the carriage ride to the church, and once inside was thankfully too preoccupied with holding William and allowing the service to go ahead that she had no reason to look at Andrew and wonder what that expression on his face had meant.

Or worse, in the church, remembering the explosive response her body had to his kiss. And how much she had wished she could feel it again in the intervening days, even though she knew it was not what they had entered the marriage for.

He was a distraction. She both wanted nothing more to do with him and wanted everything to do with him.

Lord Mirthby stood on her left as they were announced to be William’s godparents. He held the child willingly, and when William regurgitated milk across his shoulder, he merely gave a wry smile. “Well, I confess that I never have been a particular favorite with my valet.”

Jessamine decided she liked Nicholas very much.

Once the ceremony ended, all the guests had been invited back to her home with Andrew for a garden party. Jessamine handed a grumbling William to Lucy so she might feed him on the carriage ride home.

Once back, he went into his nursery for a nap and Jessamine and Andrew ventured out into the garden.

This time, when he offered his arm, she took it. This was now a public event, and they must put on a united front. “If anyone asks you why you were so eager to adopt another man’s child as my future heir rather than your own,” Andrew said, but she shook her head.

“I can defend my own decisions.”

“But for a child whose parents you supposedly didn’t know⁠—”

“All is answered if one believes I love you. Then, all things are possible.” She shrugged. “You, too, are adopting another man’s child to be your heir rather than one of your own blood. The same question might be directed at you.”

He paused, his brows descending over his eyes. The garden had been set up for a picnic, with blankets and parasols set up across the sweeping lawn, and a game of croquet a little further away, the mallets in a neat line beside the small hoops.

The guests were about to arrive.

“We will be fine,” Jessamine said, surprised by her need to reassure him. “There will be rumors; we already knew that. All we need to do here is convince them that those rumors are wrong, and the best way for us to do that is to defend William ourselves.”

Andrew nodded slowly.

Then there was no more time for conversation. Irene and Henry arrived first, with all the pomp and ceremony that a duke and duchess ought to have when arriving at an event. The other guests filed in shortly afterward. Jessamine smiled until her cheeks ached, standing beside a stiff Andrew.

No doubt joining the army had done very little for his social graces. For the first time, Jessamine understood that these ton events might not be familiar territory for him, just as they were still new and unfamiliar for her. They were both out of their comfort zone, doing what they could for William’s sake.

Irene drew her away as soon as possible. “What a wonderful service. And William behaved himself so well!”

“What about the whispers?” Jessamine asked, glancing at the people all around. “Are they satisfied, do you suppose?”

“Well.” Irene shifted uncomfortably. “There are some comments, of course. Some speculation.”

“Show me who is speculating, and I will show them what for,” Jessamine said fiercely.

“Much as I would love for you to put their assumptions back in their face, I suspect a lighter hand is needed here.” Irene smiled apologetically. “This is not Scotland any longer. Society responds better to a light hand.”

“A light hand? When they are the ones speculating at William’s origins?”

“Yes, dearest. You have already done an excellent job with christening, but now you and the duke must show everyone that there is no resentment between you, and I will discuss how generous you both are, and how tragic it is that William’s real parents died the way they did, before they could ever meet their son.”

“Perhaps you ought to make it plain that Andrew and his cousin were close?” Jessamine suggested. “I will do the same, of course.”

“Of course.” Irene winked. “We will have the world convinced in no time. Now go and smile at your husband adoringly.”

Jessamine rolled her eyes, turning to where Andrew and Lord Mirthby appeared deep in conversation. At her glance, Andrew turned halfway toward her, and it seemed almost as though his eyes were warm and soft.

“Well,” a loud voice said from behind them. “All I’m saying is that it’s odd. A lady marries a duke and immediately adopts a child that isn’t hers to be the duke’s heir? And you are telling me the boy is not his?”

“Poor girl,” another voice said. “She must be so humiliated, celebrating her husband’s by-blow like this.”

“And where is the mother?”