Without thinking, she pushed the window wide open, leaned forward, and rested her elbows on the wooden ledge.
“What can he possibly want?” The duke’s mouth pinched into a tight line as he increased the bound to his jostling.
Melanie bit her lip. Was he asking rhetorically, or did he expect an answer?
“Has he eaten?” She knew the most basic needs a baby might have from having helped care for Mary’s youngest brother on a few occasions, but she wasn’t a trained nursemaid. She definitely wasn’t an expert.
The duke shook his head. “We managed to dribble an ounce of pap into his mouth.” Another frown, this one deeper than the last. “In between screams.”
“He might have air in his tummy,” Melanie suggested.
Another shake of the head. “And that matters because…?”
“Gas,” Melanie said. “He might need to… belch.”
The duke’s brow furrowed, and he looked askance at her.“So then, why doesn’t he?”
“He just needs a little help. Pat him on the back,” she instructed. Seeing the duke make a few tentative pats, she leaned a little farther out the window. “Harder, Your Grace. Harder.”
Those silver eyes flashed back up at her. “Excuse me?”
Melanie twisted her mouth into an encouraging smile. “Do it a little harder or it won’t work. He won’t break.”
Still staring into her window, he blinked and then nodded, moving his hand more deliberately. “Like this?”
“Yes, but not too—” The baby let out an impressive belch before she could finish answering, and even with the street between them, she could see the baby’s body relax.
The baby fell blessedly quiet, a silence so loud it echoed off the row of townhouses.
Resting her chin on her fist, Melanie imagined the entire neighborhood breathing a collective sigh of relief. Meanwhile, the duke stood frozen, as though he was afraid that if he moved, the baby would start up crying again.
But then he glanced back at Melanie, cocking one brow. “Well, I’m impressed. What other clever tricks do you have up your sleeve?”
Clever…
Her father had considered her clever. He’d bragged about her, saying she came up with the very best things to say…My clever daughter…
“Not all that clever,” she said, suddenly having to force the words out again. But she wanted to know…
“Where is the nursemaid?”
The duke had turned his back to the window, but just when she’d decided he was going to ignore her, his low voice floated across the night air.
“That’s an excellent question.” He spun around and paced toward her again.
Melanie licked her lips. “You have hired one, haven’t you?”
“Theoretically.” Melanie almost found herself smiling. Because, if she was correct, he seemed to be making a joke.
“Theoretical nursemaids are the worst. Not helpful at all…” And for the second time that day, she found herself saying more than one or two words at a time. The realization made her throat thicken and, lest he expect any more from her, she stepped back and hastily drew the drapes closed.
She hadn’t spoken so much in a single day in... well, not for a long time.
Melanie touched her fingers to her lips, afraid to hope it could mean anything…
A NOT-SO-SILENT NIGHT
The light of morning filtered through the curtains, and Melanie blinked, groggy, as the sound of a crying baby echoed in her head.
