My husband only married me because he knew I would not rest until I had guardianship of this baby. He could not be bothered to fight me over it. If he tires of me, or I offend him, he might take the baby elsewhere, and I do not know if I could stop him.
I would have failed Betty.
No, she could not say that. It was hard to admit to oneself that one did not trust one’s husband.
Even if one did desire him. Which she didnot, of course, not one bit.
She averted her gaze from Joan’s staunch, steady stare and cleared her throat.
“Never mind, Joan,” she said, more strongly than before.
Joan inclined her head. “Of course, Your Grace. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will,” Madeline answered, and hurried out into the hallway.
Adam was thoroughly awake by the time they reached the library. He watched her out of wide, curious eyes, and eventually freed one arm from his swaddle, reaching up to touch her face.
“Aren’t you lovely?” Madeline whispered. “We got lost on our way to the library, but don’t worry, we are here now. Everything is well.”
She shouldered open the door and sucked in a breath.
Papa’s library was a decently sized room, well-stocked and comfortable. Tristan’s library wasvast. The ceiling flew away, and the walls were ringed with bookshelves almost all the way to the top. Two mezzanines went around the room, reached by winding staircases and protected by gilt railings.
On the ground floor, bookcases were stacked here and there, with at least a dozen leather armchairs and a dozen velvet ones scattered amongst them. The fireplace was twice as large as the one in her room, and there was a fire burning in it.
Madeline was glad to see that. In many fine libraries, seldom visited, she’d known many books to be ruined because of damp. Dampness closed in quickly when a room was cold.
She closed the door behind her with her heel and went toward the fireplace. The warmth hit her when she was at least ten feet away.
Carefully transferring Adam from one arm to another, she hurried into the forest of bookcases, searching for the book she had in mind.
“Aha! Found it,” Madeline murmured, smiling to herself. “You will like this one, Adam. It is calledMuch Ado About Nothing,by Shakespeare. It’s perhaps alittleadvanced for you, but I suspect you’ll like it a good deal when you’re older. For now, at least, it will be good for you to listen to.”
With the book tucked under her arm, Madeline retreated to the fireplace. She settled into a deep, comfortable armchair and carefully helped Adam into a sitting position. He blinked around him with large, inquisitive eyes, which swiveled to look up at her.
“We shall start at my favorite part,” Madeline said, smiling down at him. The corners of Adam’s mouth wavered, as if he were trying to smile back, revealing a gummy sort of lopsided grimace. Madeline’s heart seemed to miss a beat. Oh, how lovely if hewereto smile at her!
“This story,” Madeline explained, “is a very old one. It’s about a great many things and different people, but everybody’s favorite characters are a lord and a lady who always argue when they meet, but there is a reason for that. Now, here, listen to what Benedick says to Beatrice:What! My dear Lady Disdain, are you yet living? But mark what she says back to him.Is it possibleDisdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signor Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence.”
Adam gurgled loudly, waving his arms, and Madeline broke off in her reading.
“Yes, itisshocking,” she laughed. “But it is also very funny.Meet food, by the way, means ‘good food’ or ‘appropriate food’, if you understand what I mean. I shall continue.Then, it is courtesy, a turncoat, says Benedick.But it is certain I am loved by all ladies—Ha! How full of himself he is—only you excepted; and I would I could find it in my heart that I did not have a hard heart, for truly… I lovenone.To which Beatrice says, quick as a flash,A dear happiness to women: they would else be troubled with a pernicious suitor.”
Adam squealed again, and Madeline laughed.
“You are trying to tell me what you think of the play?” she asked, pressing a kiss to his warm forehead. “I shall read this play to you over and over again. And then, when you are older, I shall take you to see this play, and you will sit there the whole time, unable to work out why it all seems so familiar.”
Adam gurgled again, and then, quite unmistakably, his lips drew back in a wobbly, gummy smile.
Madeline laughed aloud, shaking her head. “You’re smiling! You’re smiling at me! When you learn to talk, Adam, there will be no stopping you.” Her smile faded, just a little. “I wish yourparents could be here to hear this. Oh, I wish Betty could see you smile. But perhaps you already smiled at her and your papa? I hope so. It is not fair that they should miss this.”
Adam tilted his head, watching her curiously. Madeline swallowed past a lump in her throat.
“At any rate,” she said, voice trembling, “I am going to look after you now. I promise you, Adam, that I shall always,alwaysmake you smile.”
In the silence that followed, a voice spoke, clear and vaguely amused.
“You should not lie to him, you know.”
