Lady Amelia gave a small, shaky laugh.
“And she adores being spoken to,” Beatrice added softly. “She’ll follow a voice before she opens her eyes. Mrs. Hart is thoroughly convinced she understands every word.”
Tears sparkled at the corners of her eyes as she smiled. “She… she looks well.”
“She is,” Beatrice agreed. “She eats well. Sleeps better than I expected. And…” Her mouth curved. “She smiles at the strangest things.”
“Smiles?” Lady Amelia whispered.
“Mm.” Beatrice nodded. “Especially when someone saysPip.”
Lady Amelia looked up, confused. “Pip?”
“A nickname Cecily, my sister, gave her,” Beatrice explained with a small smile. “It stuck. She smiles every time you say it.”
At that moment, Pip stirred and gave a gummy smile. She made a tiny sound, somewhere between a sigh and a contented hum.
Lady Amelia’s lips trembled, and she let out a small, helpless sound—half laugh, half sob. “She… she has a nickname.”
“She does.” Beatrice’s voice softened. “Everyone in this house adores her. Truly.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Lady Amelia reached down, touching only the edge of the blanket, not quite daring to touch the baby.
“I was so afraid she’d be cold,” she whispered. “Or hungry. Or alone.”
“She has never been alone,” Beatrice said firmly. “Not for a single moment.”
Lady Amelia drew a quiet breath, tears rolling down her cheeks. “She’s so beautiful,” she croaked.
“She is,” Beatrice agreed.
“And she looks… happy.”
“Indeed.” Her voice held more warmth this time.
Lady Amelia wiped her cheek with a trembling hand. “I wasn’t allowed to hold her,” she said. “They took her from me tooquickly. I never…” Her throat worked. “I never got to see her like this.”
Beatrice slid her arms beneath the baby and lifted her gently. Pip blinked, then settled against her shoulder. The tiny body, warm and trusting, loosened something deep inside her every time.
She turned slightly to adjust Pip’s blanket, and that was when she saw him.
Edward stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, quiet and unobtrusive, as if he had paused only to check that everything was well. His expression was unreadable, but soft in a way few people got to see.
Beatrice didn’t start, didn’t stiffen. She simply met his eyes for a brief, steady heartbeat. He inclined his head in acknowledgment, and she returned the smallest nod. Then she turned back to Lady Amelia, as if he were a passing shadow in the corridor.
Something tender tightened in her chest. “You may hold her, if you wish.”
Lady Amelia sucked in a sharp breath. “May I?”
“Yes,” Beatrice whispered. “Of course.”
She shifted Pip carefully into her mother’s arms.
Lady Amelia held the baby awkwardly at first, then more surely, her whole body curling around the tiny bundle. Pip stirred, blinked once, then relaxed into her mother’s arms as if she had always belonged there.
“Oh…” Lady Amelia breathed. “Oh, she’s so—” Her voice broke. She pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead, her shoulders shaking with emotion. “Oh, my darling girl…”
