Travelling with a newborn baby who demanded constant feeding made for an interesting journey. Freddie had a very good appetite. As Lucinda detached him for the third time since we had set off, she sighed wearily. ‘I do hope your wet nurse is prepared to be milked dry.’
I made a sympathetic noise. ‘Max said she was coming from twins, so she should be.’ He had told her that I wished to stop breastfeeding as it had become painful for me and that she would stay with us until Freddie was weaned. Jane was also visiting for a month to ‘help me’ with the baby, which I was grateful for.
Max and I had been corresponding madly since the birth, and I had attempted to convey to him how lovely Freddie was, but I knew my words did not do him justice. Max would find out soon enough.
Harry, having disappeared behind his newspaper to give Lucinda privacy, asked warily, ‘Is it safe to come out yet?’ And we all giggled.
It was very untoward to have an unmarried gentleman in a carriage with a breastfeeding woman, especially one he was courting. But by that stage, we had already disregarded convention to such an extent that one more indiscretion seemed of little consequence.
***
I had informed Max that we were to arrive midmorning, so I was expecting a welcoming committee. But what I was not expecting was for him to be out on Apollo, riding up and down the long driveway in anticipation of our carriage.
Poor Max. That could only mean that he had spent a sleepless night and been up since dawn worrying about how we fared and probably, as I knew him well, fretting about his new role of ‘papa’ and how he would get on with it.
Tucked away up here in Derbyshire, he had not had a front-row seat to the action, like I had for the last month. He had only my letters to sustain him (and I was not Jane when it came to writing satisfying descriptive letters!).
As soon as we turned into the drive, he came galloping over and rode alongside our carriage on his horse, chatting with the driver and then falling back, trying to peer in. I turned to Lucinda, blinking back tears. Wordlessly, she handed me Freddie, who was fast asleep after a solid half hour of feeding.
‘Careful, you don’t want Max to fall off his horse,’ warned Jane, eyeing me cradling Freddie in my arms. ‘You two make a pretty pair.’
I smiled, glad that I had worn my best dress and spent some time on my hair at the coaching inn for the occasion.My stomach leapt in excitement at being able to show Freddie to his father. I glanced at Lucinda to see if she minded, but she was chatting with Harry about what they would see and do in York. They were staying with us for only a week until the wet nurse arrived.
The carriage halted outside the front door. Before I even had time to collect my thoughts, the door sprung open; and Max was there, his eyes glistening. Oh dear, was he crying? He had not even met Freddie yet!
‘Welcome home, my darling,’ Max said, leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. His shining eyes dropped to the sleeping bundle in my arms. ‘And who do we have here?’
I drew back the soft blue blanket so he could see him better.
‘Meet Freddie Fitzroy, dearest, your son and heir. Isn’t he lovely?’
Max made a choking sound and turned away, drawing a handkerchief from his jacket pocket.
‘I have some ... some dust in my eyes, which is irritating them. I will see you all inside.’
He turned on his heel abruptly and strode quickly into the house.
Bemused, I looked round at the others. ‘Well, that was unexpected.’
Lucinda giggled. ‘I think it is safe to say that Uncle Maxis a little overcome. You need to ease him gently into fatherhood.’
She took Freddie from me, and I emerged from the carriage with the help of the footman. Shielding my eyes, I gazed up at the stately facade bathed in sunlight and sighed in relief at being home. We had executed the plan. Everyone had played their part, and despite a few hiccups (Dorian!), it had been wildly successful. And we had even recruited a willing accomplice (Harry!) and secured Lucinda’s future as well.
Now that was over, all that remained was settling in and learning how to be parents. Freddie was already proving to be such a sweet, placid baby that I was confident it would be a simple task.
***
I needn’t have worried about easing Max into fatherhood. He bonded with Freddie the instant he held him in his arms. During the next week, he spent a lot of time in the new nursery (the decorating of which he had been overseeing while I was away), cuddling his son or simply gazing at him while he slept in his cradle.
Indeed, it began to be quite funny. Max was out of bed and dressing before I had barely opened my eyes, sayinggruffly that he had ‘pressing business to attend to’, but I knew that he would not be going to his study. He was making his way to the nursery, ready for his morning cuddle when Lucinda had finished feeding.
I did not mind. He was as affectionate as ever to me, and there had not been a night since I had returned that we hadn’t made love. One morning at breakfast, when Max’s chair was conspicuously empty again, I remarked to Jane with amusement, ‘I believe my husband has officially taken to having his meals in the nursery.’
Jane smiled and stirred her tea. ‘He adores him, but would you have it any other way?’
‘Of course not.’ I shuddered. ‘Imagine if he had taken one look at Freddie and been repulsed.’
‘Why on earth would he have been repulsed?’
