Page 63 of Stolen By the Duke of Stone

She deserved more than anything he had to give her. The title of duchess did not make up for his many shortcomings.

“I understand,” he told her, thinking through each word as he said it. “I understand more than you might know what it’s like to… feel responsible for something terrible. And I know how tempting it is to do anything to put that right, or prevent it from happening again. But if you sacrifice your health for that, then how can you be there for him when he does need you? You must sometimes put yourself first.”

He leaned back in the seat, aware he had revealed too much of himself.

“You are not the only one responsible,” he said, gentling his tone. She was staring at him as though she had never seen him before. “Let others take some responsibility. William is being cared for by so many. We all play a part. His welfare is not dependent wholly on you.”

It was like a dam had broken. Jessamine’s shoulders shook, then she put her hands over her face and sobbed into them as if her heart was breaking.

Andrew felt his own chest twist and crack in response, and he reached for her, pulling her close, holding her to his body. This was similar in some ways to the way he’d held her after the nightmare, but then she had only been half-present. The other part of her had been focused so intensely on William, it was as though she barely saw him.

Now, she was wholly there. She gripped his coat in her hands and pressed her face against his shoulder. He stroked her hair, murmuring nonsense.

This was not the role he was accustomed to. During war, his soldiers required action. A firm hand and utter certainty. Orders, commands, decisions.

Nothing like this. They did not cry before him; they did not ask to be held, and he’d never had to be gentle. Their faith in him was born of thinking he was some immovable rock.

How could he ever be what Jessamine truly needed?

What did one do in a situation like this?

“I’m sorry,” she gasped into his shoulder. “I just feel—I know it’s irrational… but I feel as though if I take my eyes off William for a second, something terrible will happen to him.”

“William is safe and with people who know far more about child-rearing than either you or I.” Andrew held her so tightly, he feared her delicate bones might crack, and released his hold. She was so fragile in his arms. “Now he’s a little older; we should grow accustomed to leaving him at home on occasion so we can go on outings. To balls. All the things that you said we ought to do to prevent the gossips.”

And also because he desperately craved the way it had felt at Lady Marwich’s ball when he’d had her in his arms, and she’d looked up at him in that arch way.

It was the closest they had been since their marriage began, he felt.

Almost.

He could not bear to think about the two occasions that disproved it.

Jessamine hiccupped slightly as she leaned back and wiped her eyes. “I know, but how am I to do that?”

“I imagine by doing it, and gradually accustoming yourself to the fact that nothing terrible happens to William when you are absent.” He released her reluctantly, and nodded out of the window. “We’ve arrived.”

Jessamine’s jaw dropped as she spied the Minerva Club outside the carriage doors. Her heart still felt bruised and raw, as though Andrew had reached through her chest and pummeled it a little, but at the sight of the club, all her other emotions fell away.

He had taken her here.

“I thought you might require a distraction,” he said, opening the door and handing her down. “And the presence of your friends.”

“I—” She squinted at him. “You brought me here knowing what the Minerva Club is?”

“Yes.”

“And you are all right with me being here?”

“I am not in the habit of bringing my wife places and denying her entry.”

“Yes, but—” She didn’t know how to articulate her shock, or her delight.

It was as though Andrew saw her. He hadn’t taken her to some mindless society event where she would have to sit pretty and smile. He had brought her to the one place where she could be utterly herself.

The door opened, and the footman smiled upon seeing her. “Lady Jessamine. That is to say—ah.” His expression turned fearful as he glanced at Andrew.

Jessamine smiled at him. “I am now the Duchess of Knightford, so I believe ‘Lady’ has been superseded.”