“That’s right.” She smirked proudly. “Last night, I heard him crying and went to help.”
“But Helga…”
“Helga is the maid, yes? She seemed lovely, as did the wet nurse.” She shrugged in a nonchalant manner. “Regardless, I attended James until they arrived.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“How was he?”
“Oh.” She blinked. “He was…” He saw it then, her hesitation, the false bravado wither suddenly. “He was fine. I was fine. It was no trouble at all.”
She was lying about that. Anybody could see it. But she did not want to say as much, as if she needed to prove to Marcus that she was up to this task.
Or does she want to prove it to herself.
“That is good to hear,” he said, choosing not to push her on it. “And that will make things a lot easier. Still, I will be sure to speak with Helga and Margaret. They have spent the most time with James, and I am sure that the three of you will become very well acquainted.”
“If you say so.” She bit into her lip and shifted. “Also… I was wondering. You have told me already that the child is not your own, but you have not told me the reason.” She looked at him.
“I have not.”
“Might you?” she asked. “How was it that you came into possession of a child? Who is the mother? Who is the father, in fact?”
It was a fair question, and Marcus could not begrudge her for asking it. While he meant to tell her, for she had a right to know, he was swarmed with a sudden impulse of anger that he could not explain. Was it guilt? Was it shame? Was it because he had palmed this child off on somebody else when he should have been looking after the child himself?
“That is not important,” he said.
“But –”
“It is not important,” he growled unintentionally. Lucy reared back, he sighed with embarrassment, and an awkward silence descended upon them.
But what else is new?
Once again, Marcus conceded how ill-planned this entire endeavor was. He was not ready to be a father, and he was certainly not ready to be a husband. While he knew what he had to do to fix it, he wasn’t sure that he could.
“Onto my next point.” He cleared his through, cutting through the silence. “When I proposed this marriage, I spoke of a deal. If you remember?”
“I do.”
“I asked that you act as a mother to James, providing him with care as he deserves and, in exchange, you will be given your freedom. Or, as much freedom as is possible, all things considered. I did not marry you to trap you. I do not intend to subjugate you to my will and my whims. This is a marriage of convenience, and I expect it to stay that way.”
“Good…” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. “Although, I would like to know what that means.”
“It means what I have just said.”
“No,” she emphasized. “What you offered me were vagaries. When you say that I will have my freedom, does that mean that I can do as I like? If I wish to leave the home, see my friends, go shopping… or anything else that I please, that I will not have to ask permission from you.”
“So long as what you plan will not call our marriage into disrepute. That is the key, and I am glad that you brought it up. While you live inside these walls, your life is your own, and I do mean that.” He was sure to look at her, so that she could see the truth of his words reflected in his eyes. “But when you step outside of this home, you are still my wife, and everything you do must reflect that.”
“So, I must behave, is what you are saying.”
“Are you capable of such a thing?”
“Are you?” she shot back.
He scoffed and leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. “That is the other thing that we must discuss. This marriage will only work so long as the ton believes it. We married in haste, people tend to talk, and if there is even a sense that our marriage was brought through ill-means, it might ruin everything.”
