“No, it wasn’t! It was mine!” Teddy turned toward his cousin, looking so much like Remington in that moment it was comical. It was a look he often gave Julia whenever she did something he did not agree with.
“Children, remember it is not nice to argue,” Livie interjected on what was sure to become a shouting match. “Julia, can you wipe Teddy’s hand for me?”
Julia stood, walked to the basin in the corner, and wet a small cloth. “Come, Teddy.”
“I can clean it,” he announced before he licked his hand clean.
Julia tried to cover her laughter by placing her hand to her lips, but it was an impossible feat.
“Perhaps Aunt Julia can get whatever you did not happen to lick off.” Livie’s voice was stern as she side-eyed Julia.
Stifling her laughter, she rushed over to Teddy and quickly wiped his sticky hands.
“You’re not supposed to lick your hands, Teddy,” Emily whispered to him as Julia placed the cloth next to the basin.
“Thank you for bringing them back up, Rachel.” Livie smiled before looking down at Freddy. The babe was sleeping soundly in her arms.
“It was my pleasure, Your Grace. Let me know if you need anything else while Lucy is visiting her mother.” Rachel bobbed a curtsy before leaving the nursery.
Livie took the sleeping Freddy to his crib and placed him gently down. She stepped back and leaned over to whisper to her other children, “Now let’s all go quietly down to the parlor so that Freddy can sleep. You can draw Aunt Julia and me a picture.”
“I want to draw a picture, Aunt Livie!” Emily’s voice carried throughout the room but thankfully didn’t wake the baby.
“Yes, darling. Let’s go quietly to the parlor.” Livie’s continued patience with the children amazed Julia. One day she hoped she would be just as motherly and loving as her cousin.
The children ran out of the room, leaving both the women behind. They followed them in silence through the large home, passing servants who greeted Livie cheerily.
“Don’t think I have forgotten about you and Lord Heartford alone in the carriage.” Livie elbowed her gently in the side.
“There’s nothing to tell. We rode in sweet silence.” Julia focused on walking down the staircase. She hit a wobbly stair and nearly lost her balance. “Livie, be careful!” She pointed to the faulty step.
“Oh dear, I’m glad the children didn’t fall.” Livie maneuvered slowly past the wobbly step. “Dayton,” she called once they were to the landing.
“What’s wrong?” Remington appeared out of the family parlor, a worried look upon his face.
“There is a wobbly step. Is that not odd?” Livie walked over to her husband.
“Were you hurt?” His voice was more serious as he began checking his wife for injuries. She blushed at his detailed inspection.
Julia walked past them, not wanting to intrude. But once she entered the family parlor, she wanted to do nothing but flee. Blood rushed to her head as her feet froze to the floor. Henry stood in the middle of the room with Emily clinging to his leg while he lifted Teddy high in the air. The little boy giggled wildly.
“My turn, Uncle Heart!” Emily tugged on his breeches.
A long-buried feeling bloomed in Julia. Tears pooled in her eyes, and an ache of longing swirled deep in her belly.
It was a sight she had imagined many times when they were together, but instead of someone else’s children, they would’ve been theirs. She had spent hours imagining their children. They’d have his hair, her father’s eyes, and her mother’s aristocratic nose. They would’ve had two boys and one girl.
“Julia?”
She blinked several times, not noticing the tears falling freely down her face. Once her vision was clear, she saw an anxious Henry coming toward her as the children passed, running out of the parlor and down the hall with Happy and Sunny following.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” his voice was soft, melting her, filling the empty spaces of her heart.
One of his hands reached for hers, while the other traveled up her bare arm in a comforting fashion. The motion was a balm to her aching soul.
“D-don’t,” she choked out the words, sure that if he called her that, looked at her that way, touched her as he once did, she would fall into his arms and forget the past three years.
He was breaking her, one day at a time. She couldn’t allow it to happen, not if he played with every damn child in London, not if he stood out in a storm screamingnever.
