Was she hopeful about relocating or regretful? He couldn’t say, but he wanted to know. Even more, he wished to know what role she envisioned for him in this move.
Her vague calmness unnerved him.Unnervedwas a mild word for what he felt. She was calm, direct, and controlled; so very different from the chatty, flouncy, reactionary girl he had met last autumn.
Is this the authentic Tessa?he wondered.
Would the spiritedness and colorful dramatics that so intrigued him when they first met not be seen again? The Tessa of their courtship had veritably bubbled with conversation. He’d listened to countless stories about shopping trips or her vexation with her brothers or some funny trick she’d seen from the cat. She’d discussed her love for the piano, for her friends, her hatred of the grey and hopeless month of March.
Of course, she had been playacting all those months ago. What he’d taken as spirit had been feminine wiles meant to distract him. And what need had she for wiles now? He’d married her, hadn’t he? She could not care less whether he was attracted to her or not.
Joseph studied her face, her bright blue eyes and pink mouth. If she’d been playacting when they first met, she had been deuced good at it. In all honesty, this new calmness seemed just as natural.
“Before I detain you any longer,” Tessa said, “let me explain to you what I have done about the brig. It was never my intention that you would reach London and be shut out.”
Joseph stared at her. And now they would discuss docking rights? He opened his mouth to tell her he would sort it out himself, that he was sorry for his insistence and assumptions before, but she spoke over him.
“I’ll skip to the most relevant bit that will, with any luck, put your mind at ease and allow you to dock the brig immediately—today, if we’re lucky.” From the pocket of her skirt, she pulled a small, leather-bound booklet. It fell open on the low table before them, revealing pages of handwritten notes.
“There are irrelevant bits?” Joseph asked. He squinted at the book.
“Well, no,” Tessa said, “I simply meant we should get right to it. I made a promise to myself not to burden you with the details of my family.”
“I am not burdened by the topic of your family, Tessa.” His voice was defensive. Hefeltdefensive. He’d never put off anything she’d wanted to discuss.Shehad been the one who chose to shut him out.
“No?” she challenged.
No,he wanted to shout. But he raised his eyebrows.
“But you’ve not asked about my son, have you?” she said quietly.
Oh,thatpart of her family.You’re entirely correct,he thought.I haven’t asked about the baby because I don’t want to know.
And on the heels of that thought, he had another, more powerful, thought:It’s killing me that I do not know.
Slowly, haltingly, he asked, “How have you and the baby...” He paused, considering which of a million questions to ask her, “...gotten on?”
“Oh, very well, thank you,” she said, also halting. Their conversation sounded as if their primary language was some foreign tongue, and they were practicing at English. “He is called Christian. You may remember this from my letter. Thank you for the money, by the way.” She looked up at him, a little abashed. It occurred to him that she felt beholden to him. Good lord, money had been the easiest sacrifice, it had been no sacrifice. His heart, his pride—these were a different story.
He tried again. “Are you... well? Is he healthy?”
“Quite well,” she said briskly. The formal, businesslike smile was back. He frowned. Was this all she meant to say? Her tone forestalled further discussion, but now he wanted to hear more. He suddenly,urgently, wanted to hear everything about the boy and Tessa’s journey into motherhood.
He ventured, “I should like to meet him, when you are ready.”
She’d been looking down, studying her notes, but now her head came up. She searched his face. What she looked for, he could not say. She studied him like she was trying to identify an insect in a book.
Finally, she said, “He is napping at the moment, but I should like very much to introduce you. He is a lovely baby.” She paused for a moment. “Motherhood is nothing like I expected. But I like it. And I love my son. Above all, I love him.”
My son,Joseph repeated in his head. Her words held an unexpected fierceness and it heartened him. Fierceness had been one of the qualities he’d loved about her in the weeks before the wedding. It felt good to see some connection between the girl he’d thought he’d loved and the stranger who sat before him.
“But let me show you what I’ve done about the dock,” Tessa said, pulling his attention back to her notes. “All is not lost, I hope.”
Joseph sighed and looked down at her notes. “I hope not.”
Chapter Ten
Tessa forced herself to push aside talk of the baby, though it had not been easy. She’dwantedto discuss the baby, to describe at length how happy and alert androundhe was. She’d wavered half a second, debating whether to dart from the room, scoop Christian from his crib, and return to present him to Joseph, this little wonder with whom she had been entrusted by God. Proof that she had survived—nay, she had transformed—and that Christian was so very worth all the heartbreak.
But of course, Joseph might not agree that he was worth the heartbreak, and this she could not bear. She glanced at him, sprawled on the opposite chair in the parlor.
