She held him out, waiting.
Tristan inched forward, hesitantly taking the baby. They were always heavier than he expected, and there was always the fearthat a baby might unexpectedly cry, or vomit, or something like that. One could never tell with a baby.
He regarded baby Adam, and baby Adam regarded him straight back.
“You look like him,” Tristan whispered. “Anthony. You have his eyes.”
Madeline shifted, and he glanced up at her.
“You can go if you like,” Tristan said carefully. “I’ll watch him and return him to Joan when we’ve both had enough.”
Madeline blinked, as if taken by surprise. “I’d like to stay,” she said after a moment. “If you don’t mind.”
Tristan supposed that he did not mind. He kept his thoughts to himself, offering her a brisk nod. Then he walked over to the hearth, carefully lowering himself onto the thick fur rug and placing the baby beside him.
Adam lay on his back, eyes wide, taking in the world around him. He gave a gurgle of vague approval and waved his fists in the air. With this task completed, he began to chew on one of his feet, covered in a knitted bootee.
Madeline kneeled beside him, chuckling, and whipped off the bootee.
“It’ll only get wet,” she said, by way of explanation. “What did you mean when you said that I wouldn’t like Adam when he was an adolescent?”
Tristan shrugged. “Well, adolescents are not exactly delights, are they? Their parents are generally tearing out their hair over them.”
Madeline frowned. “Not me.”
He rolled his eyes. “No, of course not. Not the perfect Lady Madeline.”
She scowled. “You are teasing me.”
“Yes,” he answered frankly. “I am teasing you, and I am probably going to continue teasing you throughout our marriage, so I suggest you learn to live with it. I was awful when I was in my early teens, and so was Anthony. Weren’t you?”
Madeline sniffed, sitting up a little straighter. “I was an inquisitive teenage girl,” she confessed after a moment. “But Papa always encouraged it. He said it was good to ask questions. He wasglad.”
Tristan gave a huff of laughter, leaning sideways to prop himself up on one elbow.
“Well, my mother disagreed. She found my brother and me truly insufferable at that age, and said as much, several times.”
“Oh, how awful.”
He winced. “I am not sure thatawfulis warranted. My brother and I were… Oh, well, you can imagine what we were like.”
He glanced up to find Madeline staring at him, brow furrowed, curious.
“No,” she answered simply. “I can’t.”
He sighed. “We were trouble, I’m afraid. We consorted with maids and gardeners, we broke things, we made messes, we were just generally insufferable.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He glanced up, meeting her eyes. She avertedhergaze, flushing deeply.
That blush is becoming more and more adorable.
“I remember once,” Tristan said, speaking slowly, “we took a pair of horses and ran away. Well, we did notrun awayexactly, but that was what Mother thought we had done.”
“Why did you leave?”
He chuckled, rolling onto his back and lacing his hands behind his head.
