He tried walking in circles and bouncing her, but she only wailed louder.
“Please,” he whispered, as if negotiating with a hostile diplomat. “Your mother—your… Beatrice needs sleep. For both our sakes.”
He tried rocking her again, but the baby wailed with renewed vigor, turning red with outrage.
“No, no, no,” he muttered under his breath. “Look here, there’s no need for theatrics. I’m very tired, you’re very small. Surely we can come to an understanding?—”
The baby howled.
Edward didn’t want to wake Beatrice, but the cries were piercing enough that they might have already reached her.
He tried once more, bouncing the baby slightly, rubbing her back.
“All right, little one,” he murmured, his voice softening despite himself. “You’ve made your point. Whatever it is.”
The baby hiccupped mid-cry. And then screamed louder.
“Good God,” Edward muttered. “You’re half the size of a loaf of bread—how do you produce so much noise?”
The baby answered by screaming directly into his cravat.
He winced. “Unnecessary. Very unnecessary.” He then attempted humor. “You know, most women find me charming.”
The baby shrieked louder.
“And I seem to have offended you,” he sighed, utterly defeated. “Excellent.”
He glanced toward the door, praying Beatrice hadn’t woken up.
“All right,” he murmured. “Let’s negotiate. You do not wake the Duchess, and I—what do babies even want? Warmth? Rocking? Guarantees of stability?”
“I suppose,” a voice said behind him, cool and far too amused, “the two of us are the only women in the world who won’t fall for your charms, Duke.”
Edward nearly dropped the baby. He spun around.
Beatrice was leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed, her hair mussed, her eyes warm with sleep and unmistakable amusement. A silk robe wrapped around her figure, teasing her curves.
Edward’s mouth went dry.
“Duchess,” he managed, breathless, “I-I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You failed,” she said calmly, stepping into the nursery.
He stiffened, suddenly self-conscious, still holding the squalling baby like an awkward first-time father.
“She woke up,” he muttered, bouncing the child awkwardly. “I didn’t do anything. I swear I wanted to bring her in here.”
Beatrice blinked, clearly fighting a smile. “Yes… I gathered.”
Edward looked down at the red-faced bundle in his arms as she wailed louder, her tiny fists windmilling in dramatic protest.
“Give her here,” Beatrice murmured.
He hesitated. “I can manage?—”
He attempted a gentle rock, but the motion only made the baby arch her back and shriek with fresh indignation.
Beatrice arched an eyebrow, and Edward handed the baby over without a word.
