“Oh,” she said simply, chewing her bottom lip. “I suppose this is fair.”
Was it fair? Joseph wondered. He knew himself to be justified in his outrage, his anger, his feelings of betrayal—even his bloody wounded pride. His friends understood—Cassin and Stoker claimed they would have reacted in precisely the same way. And yet—
Was he so blameless? The night of her confession, he had heaped resentment on her. Soon after, he had fled England and scarcely looked back.
He cast an eye around the sunny park, thinking of those angry months after the wedding. His outrage had felt wholly justifiable at the time. Even now, his pulse quickened and his head ached, thinking about how foolish she had made him feel, how hurt he’d been.
But now? He glanced back to Tessa and her baby.
Nothing in London was as easy to justify as it had seemed in Barbadoes.
Joseph ran a hand through his hair, scrambling for a new topic. Tessa toyed idly with Christian’s fat fists, watching Joseph from the corner of her eye. She seemed as uncertain as he was. He wondered for the hundredth time how involved she wished Joseph to be with the baby. The future was uncertain, obviously, and that uncertainty included today, this very moment. Was he meant to only observe the baby? Would it be intrusive to ask about his temperament or daily routine? Would heholdthe baby?
There was a rather large chance that Tessa considered the baby to be hers alone, despite bearing Joseph’s last name and, presumably, relying on Joseph for financial support.
The thought of this unsettled him in a way he could not really define, but he could not conceive of a way to assert himself. He wasn’t even certain how to reach out and touch the child.
Rolling his shoulders and giving her a smile, Joseph elected to ask about the baby in terms of their newfound common ground. “When you are ready,” he said, “I should like to hear about the summer you spent learning London’s dockyards while also caring for a newborn babe. Stoker and I are still in a mild state of shock over how you managed it all.”
She sat bolt upright. “I hope nothing is amiss?”
He shook his head. “On the contrary. I find myself in the position of defending my contribution to our partnership. Stoker now wishes to cut me loose and deal only with you. Thank God Cassin is in Yorkshire. I should never hear the end of it. I’m meant to be the brains of the operation, although you could not tell it yesterday.”
She laughed and began to ask questions about the warehouse and the buyers, the distribution of the guano, and the fabric they would take under sail for the return to Barbadoes.
Joseph answered her questions but eventually their conversation drifted to London—how she enjoyed the city after a girlhood in the countryside; their friends Willow and Cassin and their unexpected love match; and the coronation of the new king, which had happened only weeks before.
He was just about to ask her if she ever found time to play the piano, when the baby suddenly caught their attention. He’d been cooing, making loud but happy baby sounds, and now he had begun to rock to his left, to and fro, enjoying the sound of his voice undulating with the effort. Tessa smiled down at him and Joseph paused in his questions, enjoying the sight of her enjoying her son. They both happened to be staring down at the baby in the moment he rocked, rocked, rocked, and then dug his left knee into the blanket and flipped over.
Tessa gave a gasp of delight and sat on her heels. “But did you see that? He turned himself over!”
Joseph looked at the baby, now lying on his back, blinking up at the maple leaves and bright September sky. His small round face was like a pink full moon, his blue eyes wide with shock.
Joseph leaned over him. “Is he... all right?”
“He’s rolled over—and so early! He was on his stomach—you saw it—and now he has flipped! All of his own accord.” She scooped the baby in her arms and squeezed him, kissing all available skin. “Good boy, Dollop!” She beamed at Joseph. “Perry told me he might flip himself as early as four months, but it might take longer. Some babies go until six or seven months without turning over.”
She seized the baby against her again, hugging him so tightly he let out an impatient squawk. She laughed and tucked him under her chin. “Perry has six younger brothers and sisters,” she explained, “and she’s been an invaluable resource for what to expect. I knew nothing of infants, Mary Boyd does not have children, and my own mother is no longer a part of my life.” She held the baby at arm’s length. “Perry will be so proud, Dollop!”
Joseph sifted through the pieces of information she’d just given him. For all practical purposes, his wife was navigating motherhood entirely alone. On his very rare encounters with the maid Perry he found her to be sweet but also young, impulsive, and silly. She was Tessa’s guide? He wondered for the hundredth time how her own family could abandon their only daughter.
How couldyou?he suddenly thought, and he felt color rise to his cheeks.
“Let us see if he will do it again,” Tessa said, replacing the baby on his stomach on the blanket. The baby cried out, opposed to being returned to the position he had so recently conquered. But within moments, he dug his foot and knee into the blanket and flipped himself again.
Tessa clapped and laughed, smiling down. Joseph wanted to watch the infant, truly he did, but he struggled to look away from the delight on Tessa’s face. He felt another prick in his heart. Another pinhole. He felt oddly light.
With considerable effort, he tore his eyes away from his wife to look down at the child.
“Oh,”sang the baby’s mother, “how hard you worked to flop over, but you aren’t quite sure what to do now that you’ve managed it. Poor Dollop.”
I know the feeling, mate,Joseph thought, peering down. He felt his own smile form. Christian Chance had three distinguishing features: chubbiness, which gave him the look of a tiny, pink monarch; a shock of dark black hair, like down on a gosling’s back; and crystal blue eyes.
Like his mother’s.
Joseph said, “He is a beautiful baby.” In his experience, this was never the wrong thing to say. It was also not a lie.
“Oh, thank you,” said Tessa. “He has been beautiful to me from the first moment.”
