The demand was overwhelming, the need staggering, but whenever Nathaniel began to feel swamped by it, he had only to look at Bess, and his entire life came into focus.
Bess. His wife.
Nothing, not even the good they were doing and all they’d accomplished with the Home, filled Nathaniel with more pride and satisfaction than the simple fact of Bess as his wife.
Hungry for the sight of her after several long days visiting the Augusta Lively Home and several of its most important benefactors, Nathaniel made his way deeper into Ashbourn House.
The air was redolent of evergreen from the boughs wound round the banisters and laid across the mantelpieces, but there was a warm undertone that made Nathaniel’s mouth water.
Dark sugar. Cinnamon. Cloves. Butter. Ginger.
He knew exactly where he’d find Bess.
Nathaniel quietly descended the stairs to the kitchen and stood for a moment on the threshold, observing the scene within.
Amidst the bustle of kitchen maids cleaning and prepping vegetables for supper and Monsieur Anatole barking French-accented instructions for the roast, Bess was an island of calm.
She stood over a small form swaddled in a far-too-large apron, a radiant look on her lovely face. With gentle encouragement, Bess appeared to be demonstrating the correct application of a mixing spoon to a bowlful of flour to the child who perched atop a tall stool and stared into the yellow crockery bowl in fascination.
Their daughter, Kitty, demanded her own turn with the spoon, and immediately began knocking puffs of flour from the bowl with her vigorous stirring. Bess laughed and let her have at it, her warm, brown eyes sparkling with happiness.
Nathaniel felt his heart swell so that his chest could scarce contain it.
He must have made some motion, because Kitty looked up and caught sight of him lingering in the doorway. Wriggling with more excitement than her three-year-old body could handle, Kitty pointed a chubby finger and beamed at Nathaniel, whose throat clenched with emotion.
He would never become inured to the joy, the fulfillment, his family brought him.
Putting a hand softly atop their daughter’s riotous honey-gold curls, Bess turned to the doorway. That sunshine smile he so loved, the twin of their child’s, bathed Nathaniel in welcome.
“You’re back,” she cried, lifting Kitty in her arms and moving swiftly to meet Nathaniel at the door. Within a heartbeat, Nathaniel found himself enveloped in the sugared almond and vanilla sweetness of home.
“I missed you both,” he said, low and with deep feeling. Time away from his little family was akin to torture for Nathaniel, but he bore it for the good of the Home.
And for the pure distilled happiness of returning to the loving embrace of his wife and small daughter.
“I’m making gingerbread, Papa, look!” Kitty released her exuberantly tight clasp of his neck to show the dark streaks of treacle that now no doubt also adorned his collar.
Taking her dimpled hand in his, Nathaniel very seriously drew one sticky finger to his lips for a kiss. “Delicious. I’ve never had sweeter,” he told her.
“We’re having gingerbread for tea,” Kitty said with satisfaction.
“I can’t wait to taste it.”
“Mine isn’t finished!” The realization had Kitty squirming to be set down. One of the kitchen maids hurried over to take Kitty’s hand and lead her back to her stool. Kitty clambered up and attacked the bowl with renewed vigor as the maid looked on indulgently.
“I can finish up the lesson, if you like, Your Grace,” she offered with a smile.
Bess had never quite gotten round to hiring a nursemaid to take care of Kitty, preferring to spend most of her time with their daughter herself. The rest of the household, as smitten with the new duchess’s kind, practical nature as Nathaniel was, leapt at the chance to lend a hand in watching over the small, sweet-faced despot who ruled Ashbourn House.
Nathaniel could see Bess hesitating, and put a thumb lightly on the scales by pulling her closer than was proper, relishing the feel of her trim, strong body all along his front. Bess’s pretty brown eyes went heavy-lidded.
“Yes, thank you, Dolly,” she said, a bit dazedly. “I’ll be back in a bit to take her off your hands. Kitty, mind what Dolly says and don’t go near the oven!”
Nathaniel let the door swing shut on Kitty’s blithe “Yes, Mama!”
The moment they were alone in the hall, he secured Bess against the wall and let his legs tangle with hers amidst the material of her skirts.
Dropping kisses across the bridge of her nose and the graceful lines of her cheekbones, Nathaniel relished the fine-grained texture of her skin. The heat of the flush he was bringing up. The damp strike of her breath as she parted her lips on a gasp.
