Page 93 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

At that, Phoebe finally began to relax. Leopold would have sworn he could read her thoughts in that single instant. I know how to help her feel better while she is teething, her eyes proclaimed. Thank heavens, I know how to help her if it is nothing more serious.

“Is there anything we should do?” Leopold asked, trying to show Phoebe that he would support any care Cecily needed.

“The fever should pass, but she must be watched carefully through the night,” the physician said.

Phoebe nodded.

“I am happy to sit up with her,” she said.

“Keep her cool,” the physician continued. “Light clothing. Plenty of fluids, whatever she normally drinks that she will accept. Do not force her to drink if she refuses, at least for the next day or so. Wake her if she sleeps too deeply. And call for me immediately if she does not improve in the next two days, or if other symptoms suddenly develop, though I very much doubt that will happen.”

Leopold nodded, his relief deepening.

“Thank you, Doctor,” he said.

The physician gave Leopold a kind, satisfied smile and nod. He reached for the child’s wrist to check her pulse again.

“Cold compresses on her wrists may help,” Phoebe murmured, looking lovingly at the baby as the physician gently handed Cecily back to her.

The physician glanced toward her. “Yes. That may make her more comfortable.”

“It helped before,” Phoebe added, nodding.

Leopold’s attention stayed on her face. Before. Cecily had never had a fever at Belgrave. Before meant somewhere else. He stared intently at her, as if he could pick more thoughts from her mind as he had previously. But Phoebe noticed his expression and her cheeks flushed. “I meant with a child at my previous position.”

Leopold said nothing, but he could not forget. She had clarified herself, but she had done so just a moment too late. Her eyes, more than her words, told Leopold that she had not simply misspoken.

She had said something she had not intended to. He had learned, over the years, that people revealed more in the corrections they made than in the answers they prepared, and he knew perfectly well what it looked like when someone did such revealing. And Phoebe just had.

After the physician left, the nursery seemed much quieter. Cecily was still warm, still fretful, and not remotely interested in sleep. Leopold remained silent, watching Phoebe carefully. As he did, he began to doubt himself. The fatigue was becoming rapidly more apparent with the nursemaid.

And he knew that he was no less affected by sleeplessness. Perhaps she had simply said something that did not make sense without further explanation. Perhaps his own tired mind heard something odd in a simple mistake made by an exhausted woman.

Perhaps he was imagining how scared Phoebe had looked when she corrected herself. It was easy enough to believe. And it was better than pressing and getting an answer that could possibly change the warmth and affection he had started feeling for Phoebe. I must have been wrong, he thought. I must have been.

Phoebe walked Cecily first, moving slowly around the room with the baby against her shoulder, whispering whenever Cecily whimpered. Leopold sat in the chair beside the fire and watched them for several minutes before standing.

“You should sit down.”

Phoebe shook her head. “She settles better when I walk.”

“I can carry her.”

She looked at him, then at Cecily. “You do not mind?”

Leopold looked into the soft brown eyes he had come to enjoy watching, his suspicion slowly melting.

“We can take turns. You do not have to care for her alone right now.”

Phoebe smiled softly as she passed the baby over. Cecily protested for about three seconds, then settled against Leopold’s chest. He walked the length of the nursery, then back again, while Phoebe watched him from the chair.

He continued walking. The room was dim except for the fire and the lamp near the crib. The servants had settled again as soon as the physician arrived. At that moment, the house felt suddenly far away, as though Belgrave had withdrawn behind its walls and left only the three of them.

Cecily stirred. Leopold stopped and shifted her carefully.

“She is still too warm.”

Phoebe rose. “Let me.”