The maid cooed over Christian and laid him carefully on a blanket in the center of Tessa’s bed. “If I owned ten bonnets,” the maid said, “I can tell you that the eel is the very last one I’d wear.” She trudged from the room.
“How will you go?” asked Sabine softly.
“Carriage,” said Tessa, looking over her shoulder. “Won’t you reconsider and come with me? Stoker is sure to be there.” Sabine had been the first of the three brides to marry and move to Belgravia. Her union with the brooding and enigmatic Jon Stoker had rescued Sabine from an abusive uncle. But within hours of the wedding, Sabine had bidden Mr. Stoker to deliver her to Belgravia and leave her. According to Sabine, she’d left her new husband with little more than a formal thank-you and the suggestion that he should carry on with his life as if they were not married at all. It was exactly the way the brides’ advertisement had been originally conceived, and yet...
Sabine shook her head without hesitation. “Oh no. Mr. Stoker will not expect to see me, nor I him. And you can very well manage the docks without me in the way. I would not dare attach myself to your crowning moment. That said,” Sabine went on, “would you mind delivering this letter to Mr. Stoker? If you see him, that is. And it’s not too much trouble.” She produced a tidy envelope from her pocket and held it out.
Tessa barely stopped herself from whirling.
“Pleasure,” she said simply, flashing a smile. She took the envelope and tucked it into her own pocket. She eyed her friend, so very anxious for details but she dare not ask. And now Christian was fussing on the bed.
Tessa scooped her son into her arms. “They’ve finally come home, Dollop.” She kissed the top of his soft round head. The infant’s chubby legs churned.
“I wonder if his father will endorse his nickname?” chuckled Sabine.
Tessa went still. “It’s far more alarming to hear, ‘Father’ than, ‘Dollop.’”
“But Mr. ChanceisChristian’s legal father. He remained married to you after all. And I might add that he sought you out literally within hours of his return. And now he will see you again today? If he does not threaten divorce or annulment now, he never will.”
Tessa laughed. “Thatis hardly guaranteed. Yesterday proved nothing more than our future together is... undefined. But I can live with undefined—for the moment.”
“You are afraid to press him,” guessed Sabine.
“Yes.” Tessa nodded. “It’s no small thing, what I’ve done to him. Entrapment? Fatherhood? He has earned a bit of freedom from being pressed. When I saw him again, I promised myself that I would not allow emotion to spill over into our discussion. No heartbreak, no longing, not even regret. I will not manipulate him any longer, even unintentionally. I had only two goals yesterday: to reveal this split with my parents and to discuss what I’ve done with the docks. By some miracle, I achieved both.”
“You’ve managed a new baby almost entirely alone,” recited Sabine. “You’ve learned London’s dockyards—also alone. Your behavior before the wedding was not ideal, I’ll grant you, but you needn’t present yourself as if made of stone.”
“For my part, I’m committed to professionalism with Joseph—this is all I mean. Any overture must come entirely from him, with no leading agenda by me. I’ve led him too far already.”
“Overture?” said Sabine.
Tessa shrugged. “Widest possible definition of the word, I mean. Warmth toward me, forgiveness. Overtures toward the baby. Although, surely no one is prepared to bandy about the wordpapajust yet. Honestly, I dare not speculate. I have forced myself not to speculate.”
“But I thought you said he was receptive to the baby?” Sabine took up a rattle from the bed and handed it to Christian.
“He was many things, I suppose. Irate and adversarial in the beginning. After that, quiet and pensive and almost... contrite?” She shrugged and began to wrestle Christian into his tiny jacket. “In the end, his regard could best be described as shocked. Which was the most satisfying of all, I must admit. I wanted to appear...changedto him. To be proficient and business-minded rather than frivolous and wily. He was right to be shocked, considering the avalanche of information with which I inundated him.”
“But he showed nothing more than this? Nothing of the affection or devotion from before your confession?” Sabine grabbed hold of one of Christian’s swinging feet.
“Well, there were flashes, I suppose, of what one might call curiosity. He asked about the baby.Andhe asked about my hair.” Absently, she touched the severe bun at the nape of her neck.
“Well, your hair is a mystery to us all,” said Sabine.
Tessa smiled weakly. “It was hardly the sort of conversation to which one could pin her future. And besides...” she hoisted Christian on her hip “...I’m not even certain I want a future with Joseph Chance.”
“Now that is perhaps the biggest lie of all,” said Sabine.
Tessa crinkled up her face, running her nose along her son’s sweet-smelling profile. “You’re right.” She let out a deep breath. “Of course I want a future with Joseph. I wanted him then, and I want him now.” Tessa looked up. “But I want so much more now that I am a mother, now that I’ve... managed all of the business of the docks. Perhaps too much.”
“Well, I’ll not argue this point. You’ve never wanted enough for yourself in my opinion.”
“Stop. Mine has always been the longest and most elaborate list of desires.”
“Not bows and fripperies, Tessa. What do you truly want?”
Tessa opened her mouth to put her off again, but Christian kicked in her arms and affected one of his signature, long, determined coos. Tessa stopped. She kissed her son. The New Tessa was honest, even with herself.
“I want,” she began, “a modest house that I can call my own. Nothing grand but tidy and safe and a place Christian may grow up. I want a means to support the two of us. I want to scrimp and economize and possibly save enough to send him to university when the time comes. I want to have a go at more work like the arrangements I’ve made with the brig and dock. Assuming I have not mucked it up, I have more ideas for how to do it better next time, more efficiently, faster, with a larger profit.” Her voice had grown louder and more convicted. She squeezed her son to her chest.
