“There is nothing there for you, little man,” the Duke said. “Your mother can better provide for you just now.”
“Would you like to hold him?” Celeste asked.
“Are you sure I won’t break him?” Jonathan looked both excited and a little scared.
“Just support his head and back. Dr. Dermott and Sister Agatha say that he is a big baby, but even so I do not think he will tax your strength.”
Jonathan carefully gathered the baby up, his face shining with joy. “I had given up hope of having a child. I despaired of finding a way that we could be together as legally wed man and wife. But here we are, and here is the result.” He supported the baby on his forearm, with the infant’s head cradled in his hand. With one finger of the other hand he stroked the shock of black hair. “What should we name him, my dear?”
“Jonathan, of course.”
“But how will we tell who is being called for dinner or scolded for misdeeds?” Jonathan asked with mock seriousness.
“Oh, we’ll call him Jonny. Jonathan is much too grown up a name for such a little boy. But it will give him a name to be proud of, one that he can grow into and attempt to live up to.”
Jonathan’s eyes grew suspiciously damp, but he said, “Thank you, Celeste.”
“Wait until he breaks something priceless or spills ink on documents,” Celeste said. “You can decide whether or not to thank me then.”
“I’ll thank you now, Celeste, just in case I forget to later.”
Jonny looked at his father solemnly, turned a screwed up his little face and grunted a little. He then did something that produced horrendous odor, and damp warm began to seep through Jonathan’s coat sleeve.”
“Well,” said the Duke of Gwyndonmere, “At least we know that his parts are working properly.”
Celeste laughed and tugged on the bell pull that hung over the big, four-poster bed. A round-faced young woman quickly entered the room. “Please take Jonny to be dressed, I believe he has soiled himself. And ask the valet to come take the Duke’s coat for cleaning.”
“I’ll be glad to, Your Grace,” the girl said. “What a handsome fellow he is!” she added, taking the baby. “You must both be very proud.”
“Very,” said Jonathan.
When the nurse maid had taken the baby away, Jonathan shed the soiled coat, and then seated himself again beside the bed. “How are you, my dear?”
“Tired. A little sore, and very, very hungry. And I suspect in need of a bit of cleaning up and a comb.”
“You are absolutely beautiful, just as you are,” Jonathan declared. “I knew you were beautiful before, but now you are glowing. I am an amazingly lucky man.”
“And I am a very fortunate woman,” Celeste replied. “but I always knew I could trust in your good sense and caring heart. You have proved me right.”
“Speaking of good sense,” Jonathan said, “We are moving the poison gardens into a walled garden on the backside of the Gentle Sisters. That should make it less accessible both to thieves and to curious children.”
“That is a good idea, Your Grace,” Celeste said. “Especially since it is my hope that we will have several more.”
“Are you sure, Celeste?”
“Quite sure. I hope for at least one daughter to match our handsome son.”
“In that case,” Jonathan said, “How soon do you think we can start on the next one?”
Celeste laughed. “Not for a week or two, Your Grace. But I would take a kiss or three, just to make sure we stay in practice.”
“Hrruumph,” Mr. Hammonds cleared his voice. “Your Graces, you have guests. Mr. and Mrs. Singer are here to see you, and to see the new baby as well.”
“Papa! Mama!” Celeste exclaimed, still holding onto Jonathan’s hand. “Have you come to see the baby?”
“We have come to see what is new in the world, but we have also come to see you, my daughter.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Singer. “How are you, my dear?”
