The next box was explored in short order, and he helped Diana lift out the painted wooden cradle. She clapped her hands with glee.
“Set it there,” she ordered. “Please,” she added, thelcoming out more like aw,which he adored.
When they had the doll’s bed in the place she wished, Diana laid her in.
“Time to go night-night, Clara,” Diana said, having quickly chosen a name.
They opened the last box, and he drew out the little, upholstered chair.
Again, she clapped her hands and yanked the doll out of her slumber to settle her in the chair.
“A short nap,” he quipped to Mrs. Caldwell.
“I brush her hair,” Diana declared, jumping up to grab her own brush off the dresser before returning to start tearing at the doll’s soft, dark hair.
“Easy, poppet,” said the nursemaid.
Matthew smiled, glad Diana was happy, but the doll was going to be bald by bedtime, so he needn’t have worried much over the hair color.
“I shall see you later,” he said, but the little girl didn’t even look up, happily scalping her baby.
“I will be your mama,” she was telling the doll. “I don’t have one, Clara, but now you do.”
His heart lurched. He should have bought her a doll three months ago and probably a lot more.
“Mrs. Caldwell. Please tell me if I am remiss in providing anything Diana needs. And not merely needs but wants,” he added.
“She’s a very happy child,” the nanny said. “You’ve done very well, my lord, if I may say.”
Mrs. Caldwell had never asked but seemed to believe him a widower or a man who’d taken in an abandoned babe.
“If you think of anything,” he persisted, bending down to drop a kiss on Diana’s tawny-haired head before he went to the door.
“She likes to draw, always using a stick in the dirt outside.”
He was surprised. The daughter of a baron was drawing in the dirt.
“I shall procure her a slate and a supply of chalk at once,” he promised. “And paper, too, with some pencils. Might as well be more permanent than a slate.”
“That would be perfect, my lord. I will use the slate to go over her letters with her.”
He departed the happy scene. Matthew had taken on the little girl’s care without much thought or planning. Luckily, Mrs. Caldwell would sort things out and make sure Diana didn’t end up a wildling, not knowing how to read or write.
But the little girl’s comment about a mother nagged at him. His usual thoughts would be solely for a wife to fulfill his own needs and desires and to satisfy his longing for pleasures of thefemale form. Yet Diana made him also wish for a woman who could make her a good mother, one who would guide her and hopefully love her even after having children of her own.
He avidly hoped Purity would be that woman.
Purity was unable tostop thinking about Foxford’s visit. She wanted to apologize for believing the worst. On the other hand, he had displayed further bad behavior by kissing her.
But it was the very best of bad behavior.She smiled to herself.
In truth, she could heat herself up from tip to toe by simply recollecting it, especially his hands upon her body.
Given Foxford’s reputation, no one could blame her for imagining him having a dalliance with one or both of those unfortunate women. Privately, while she thought them dreadfully vulgar, she knew she was being uncharitable. After all, it was unlikely they relished their low state and tawdry profession but had been driven to it by desperate circumstances.
On the other hand, she experienced the thinnest slice of envy at how easily they were able to interact with Foxford in public, even touch him, laugh, and press up against him. If he had been willing, they would have experienced all the mysteries still awaiting her on her wedding night.
She shook her head, wondering how her thoughts had strayed so far, especially when the only man she could picture in the marital bed was the Fox.
