Jemina and Mr. Anthon had done that. He sort of remembered that, in between holding his head over the basin.
Ugh. He needed to go to his daughter. Then write Jemina a long, long, long note.
Wobbling to his closet, he tossed his jacket, shirt, and waistcoat to the floor. They’d receive a proper burial later. He struggled to find his night shirt and robe, an onyx dust-free robe. He pulled each on, and then tied the silk sash.
Crossing the hall, the blazing lights of the sconces blinded him, but he wobbled his way inside the nursery.
His heart, it danced at the sight.
Hope and Jemina, each asleep.
Each adorable.
Each needed to be his. Well, technically one was, but the other survivor of theMinervahad to be his, too.
He slid Hope from Jemina’s protective arms and cradled her. Sleepy brown eyes opened. “Pa-Papa better? Mama said you were sick.”
“Mama? Mama said that? She came to you in a dream?”
“Yes, Mama’s heart is good to hear again.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant but took it as a sign. “Sweetie, go get in my bed. I’ll be there shortly.”
Hope yawned and took off crawling. Only during the worst thunderstorms did he let her sleep there, but now he needed a chaperone when his lady joined them.
As gently as he could, he scooped up Jemina. She was a very sound sleeper.
Daniel staggered, but it was his duty to protect the woman who saved him.
When he made it back to his bedchamber, he caught his daughter bouncing on the mattress.
He waved at her. “We can’t disturb Jemina. We’ll wake her. That’s not good.”
The child stopped, almost freezing in mid bounce.
He laid Jemina down and took off one of her slippers and then the other.
No attempt would be made at removing anything else. His intentions were noble, mostly. They needed to stay that way.
Yet, the memory of clasping her naked shoulder, of Jemina fuzzy and wild and alluring, hovering over him, awakened his dulled wits.
Goodness, he needed her.
With her and Hope under the covers, he lay on the floor. The floorboards were good and cold and not moving.
His daughter settled down. In another five minutes, the wiggle worm snored.
Max draped across his feet. Then he bounced up into bed, probably taking the spot that should be Daniel’s.
The mattress shook. Jemina bolted up, gasping for air.
Achy, he sat up. “Easy. It’s all right.”
She looked at him so lost with wide darting eyes.
Instinctive like a warrior, he raised his arms, and Jemina dropped into his arms and bumped his head. “Sorry.”
“Fine. It’s fine. All of my face aches anyway.” Daniel wound an arm about her. “And my hero can’t be scared.”
