Victoria was almost ready to throw her hands in defeat. She was reminded of Richard’s words, of how he called Melody a burden that he would try to take from her.
The infant cried even more. She was probably the wisest in the room, sensing that she was not with her mother. She was not with someone who knew how to make her hush.
Victoria took Melody in her arms and tried to soothe the babe by making hushing sounds and bouncing movements. Nothing seemed to work.
She was unfamiliar with this feeling, and she was terrified of it. Even as a young girl under the rule of a tyrannical father, she did not feel powerless. Or perhaps the power she displayed was merely for show.
Probably hearing the baby’s cries, Mrs. Davies arrived. She gave the scene one look and marched forward to assist.
“If you please, Your Grace,” the housekeeper said gently but firmly, reaching out to take Melody from Victoria.
The duchess did not argue. She felt both loss and relief at having to pass the baby to more practiced hands. She appreciated that the housekeeper did not look at her with judgment. Instead, she merely swooped in to take the babe.
Mrs. Davies tucked Melody against her shoulder, giving the little one’s back gentle and rhythmic pats. Then, she began humming a soothing folk song that Victoria might have heard once or twice from the servants when she was growing up as a child.
A miracle happened, at least from the duchess’s point of view. Melody’s cries subsided, fading to mere sniffles to tiny complaints, and finally to contented gurgles.
“There, there, little one,” Mrs. Davies murmured. “Finally, you found some comfort, did you not?”
Victoria’s jaw dropped. She stepped toward the housekeeper and the baby, but felt a wave of nausea come over her. She must have been really exhausted, but frustration was at its fore just a while ago that she did not really notice.
“H-how did you do that? And so quickly?” she asked, thoroughly in awe.
She thought that Melody was crying for her mother, but Mrs. Davies, in her fifties, was certainly not hers.
“It’s from experience, Your Grace. I have had four children of my own,” Mrs. Davies replied, giving the duchess a knowing smile. “It’s the mother’s touch. Children recognize it.”
“Oh.”
Victoria knew that the housekeeper did not mean to imply that she didn’t have a mother’s instinct, but it still hung over her like a dark cloud.
She had never truly thought that she would be a mother, but now, with Melody, she didn’t think that she would be able to perform as well as she always did in different arenas. She was bold and defiant. She valued her independence. Yet, she failed at something that was considered fundamentally female.
Her mother, Lady Grisham, if she knew, would cackle with glee.
“You will learn how to do it, Your Grace. This one came without warning. When you have your own baby, you will have enough time preparing yourself and loving it, even when it’s still in your belly,” Mrs. Davies said gently.
She supposed the housekeeper thought that the distance between her and Richard was temporary, and that there was a chance she would have a child of her own.
She sat on the edge of her bed, a new thought coming to light. For Richard, this was a burden. The whole thing. She wasn’t entirely convinced that Melody was not his child. After all,the baby’s mother probably brought the child here to call his attention.
Where was she? Was she highborn or lowborn, and did people realize that she had a child out of wedlock? A child born into a married union would not be left behind like this.
Scandal.
Melody’s mother might have been worried about the scandal the infant would bring. Now, the concern had been passed on to her. She must do something to stop rumors from starting.
But to make this happen, she needed help. It was easy for her to realize who would be able to come through at a sensitive time like this.
“Bessie,” Victoria said, her voice firm and cold, but still hopeful. “We need to send messages to the Oakmere, Redmoor, Talleystone, and Wolfcrest houses. My sisters should know about this.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Bessie replied with a nod.
“I will get the notes ready. Tell the coachman it is a matter of urgency and discretion.”
“Your Grace,” Bessie said, seemingly remembering something. “What if inviting all your sisters will make people talk?”
“They were just here for a performance. That should not be too strange,” Victoria explained reasonably.
