Lady Sophie's Christmas Wish by Grace Burrowes

was a necessary prelude to walking.”
    â€œCome down here with us.” Vim settled on his side along the blanket and patted the carpet. That she couldn’t see the dangers was vaguely alarming. As of tomorrow, she’d be on her own with the child until her brothers showed up—and they, being men, were a dubious source of aid at best.
    She sat beside him, her legs tucked around to the side. “He’s getting up on all fours.”
    He was, his little nappied fundament pointing skyward until he got his chubby arms braced under him. When he gained his hands and knees, Kit looked around, grinning gleefully.
    â€œWell done.” Vim tapped the child’s nose gently with one finger. More grinning and even some rocking in place. “He hasn’t quite got it figured out yet.”
    â€œHe will soon?”
    â€œAny day, but consider that he’ll soon be rollicking about and view the room from his perspective.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    Vim stretched out on his belly. “Join me.”
    She looked around dubiously then shifted to stretch out on the other side of the child.
    â€œWhat do you see, Sophie?”
    â€œI see the fireplace.”
    â€œKit will see it too. He’ll see the dancing flames and bright colors; he’ll feel the warmth; he’ll hear the hiss and pop of the occasional log; he’ll see the shower of sparks.”
    â€œMy goodness.”
    â€œWhat else do you see, Sophie?”
    She was quiet a moment while Kit started babbling his pleasure at life in general. “I see the set of hearth tools, ready to come crashing down on a curious baby. I see standing lamps and nice frilly table runners, all ready to be pulled over by a fat little fist. I see things a fellow could put in his tiny mouth, and things that could strike him on his precious little head. I see… trouble.”
    She rolled to her back, eyes going to the baby. “How do they ever survive? How did Her Grace raise ten children?”
    He shifted to his side to face her, so they were separated by one grinning, cooing baby. “She had help, I’m sure, but this is part of the reason the little ones are kept in the nursery. My guess is the hearths are raised there, so nobody can crawl into the ashes, and the shelves are built into the wall, so nothing can come crashing down on a fellow’s head.”
    â€œThey are.” She sighed, eyes going to the ceiling. “And there are no table runners, no pretty little glass bowls full of flower petals, only toys that are quite sturdy.”
    â€œAnd a crib?”
    â€œThere are cribs up there, though Kit still fits nicely in his cradle.”
    â€œExcept he’ll soon be able to climb out of his cradle, won’t he?”
    â€œMy goodness.” She closed her eyes. She kept them closed when she resumed speaking. “I went to the maid’s quarters to see if Joleen left anything for Kit.”
    â€œAnd?” Vim moved again, to lift the baby straight up over his chest. The child squealed with delight, paddling the air with both arms and legs.
    â€œAll of Kit’s dresses and socks and little blankets were in a tidy pile on her bed. She meant to leave him.”
    He knew better. He should have pretended to be absorbed in the child’s play, but he could hear something in Sophie’s voice that had him bringing the baby down to his chest and regarding Sophie where she lay a couple of feet away.
    â€œThis upsets you.”
    She nodded, eyes still closed. While Vim watched, a single tear leaked from the corner of her eye and made a silvery track into the dark hair at her temple.
    â€œSophie, do you cry for the child or for the mother?”
    â€œI never cry.”
    If he weren’t lying nearly beside her, he might have believed all the starch in her voice despite the evidence of his eyes. He secured the baby to his chest with one hand and reached over with the other, brushing the back of