The young mother looked indecisive for a moment but with a reassuring glance from Cecily, handed the child over.
With Sophia fussing over the long lacey dress, Mr. Findlay turned the baby girl so that she rested her stomach along his arm and proceeded to pat her bum heartily. Surprisingly, the baby stopped fussing.
Whether he’d simply scared her into silence, or she found the motion soothing, Loretta couldn’t say. But as he paced across the room holding the child thusly, a murmur of approval sounded from more than one of the other guests.
And then he lowered himself into the seat beside her once again. This time with the baby lying, face down across his lap. He jostled her gently by bouncing one foot.
Unable to stop herself, Loretta reached over and ran her fingers along the child’s cheek.
“She is beautiful.” Although not Harold’s child, Loretta had always loved her nephew dearly. Her nephew had spent a great deal of time in their household. He and Justin White had practically been raised as brothers alongside her own two sons. This beautiful baby was Dev’s flesh and blood.
Mr. Findlay moved to turn the baby upright, tangling the skirts of the ornate gown once again, so that Loretta had to adjust them.
“Why, in God’s name, would anybody dress a child in something long enough for a fully grown adult?” Mr. Findlay groused as he tried to settle Lady Harriette upright upon his lap.
“Give her to me.” Loretta demanded, drawing a sardonic lifting of the brow from the annoying man. “And the gown is lovely.”
She reached across and placed her hands beneath the baby’s arms, inadvertently touching more of Mr. Findlay’s firm chest and arms than she’d anticipated. Such a contrast, the baby’s fragile and tender body, covered in white muslin and lace, against this hard, unfamiliarly muscled man clad in wool and linen.
As she lowered the child onto her own lap, she purposely inhaled the fresh smell of clean baby in order to erase the scent of bergamot and soap… maleness…
Loretta had held the child before, on more than one occasion. But she’d not had this busybody of a man watching her so closely. Self-consciousness arose in her, an unfamiliar emotion for a duchess.
“Bah.” Lady Harriette grasped at the broach pinned at Lorretta’s neck. A solitary diamond, encircled in a bed of delicate silver leaves. It had been a gift from Harold.
“Does that sparkle?” The child’s gaze remained fixed upon the jewelry while tiny fingers examined the design. Loretta shifted her so that she could reach it more easily.
“Bah.” The baby announced once again, this time raising her eyes to meet the wearer of such a sharp and sparkly toy.
Loretta swallowed hard but couldn’t help laughing and smiling back. “Ah, yes, bah. You’re a very smart girl already, aren’t you?”
“Already enjoying diamonds.” This from Mr. Findlay.
Loretta laughed again as her gaze met his approving one.
One of Mrs. Mossant’s younger daughters approached and then lowered herself to her knees to watch the baby. Loretta remembered herself before marrying, and how she’d been drawn to infants almost beyond her own control.
That had been so very long ago.
“She’s simply adorable, don’t you think, your grace?” She was quite taken with such innocent sweetness.
And then the other sister, the youngest, joined them as well. She likely was barely six and ten.
“She looks just like her papa, doesn’t she?” Seemingly without thought, the words tumbled from the girls mouth.
And then she glanced toward the duke.
Conversation stalled and an uncomfortable strain seemed to hover in the room. A strong and warm hand took hold of her arm.
“And her mother as well. If you look carefully at that stubborn chin, I have to say she got that straight from her grandmother.” And by God, if Mr. Findlay didn’t have the audacity to tap Loretta on the chin three times, drawing laughter from Dev and Sophia.
The impertinence!
The urge to chastise him died suddenly, however, when the baby reached up to touch her chin as well. Loretta stared down at Dev’s baby.
Lady Harriette’s chin did seem a little familiar. And then she laughed outright. Dev was her husband’s brother’s son. She had no blood relation with him at all.
Mr. Findlay had simply been teasing her, the blighter. When she caught his gaze, she couldn’t help but allow him a tight grin. He’d smoothed over the awkward moment with his outrageous comment.
