Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(33)

Throwing off her bed linens, Justine pushed aside the curtain on the four-poster and climbed out of bed. She shivered in the cold and hurried to pull on her dressing gown while feeling around with her feet for her slippers. Dragging her long braid out from under the robe’s collar, she hurried into the next room.

Looking heavy-eyed and frustrated, Rose paced the carpeted floor of the small but comfortably appointed bedroom, her voluminous linen shift billowing around her legs each time she made a turn. She carried little Stephen in her arms who, unfortunately, stared up at her, wide-eyed.


“Oh, dear,” Justine whispered as she gently closed the door behind her. “Is he colicky again?”

Rose blew out an exasperated breath. “No, he just won’t sleep. I know he’s not hungry, neither. Just fed him a half hour ago.” She scrunched her face up and touched her nose to the baby’s. “You’re going to be the death of me, you little bugger, aren’t you?”

Stephen chortled with baby glee, clearly delighted to be up with his nurse in the middle of the night.

Justine glanced over at the bed, where Rose slept with her son. Sammy, thank goodness, was deep in slumber, his little arms flung out wide with innocent abandon.

“Have you tried putting him down in his cradle?” Justine asked. “I can’t believe he’s not asleep, since he was awake for most of the day.”

Rose shook her head. “He fusses like anything when I put him down, miss. Normally I don’t mind, but Sammy kept me up the first half of the night, and now this one is like to do it for the second half.”

Justine glanced at the rocking cradle positioned in front of the fireplace. She could always sit in the comfortable armchair right next to it and try to coax the baby back to sleep, but that would hardly be conducive to Rose getting much-needed rest.

“Here,” she said. “I’ll take him. If you don’t get some sleep, you’re going to fall flat on your face.”

Rose handed the baby over with some reluctance. “Are you sure, Miss Justine? The fire must be out in your room and it’s a powerful cold tonight. I don’t want either of you catching your death.”

Justine settled Stephen in her arms, smiling down into his rosy-cheeked face. “I’ll take him downstairs to the kitchen and make myself a cup of tea. That way, we’ll both stay warm, and when he falls asleep I’ll bring him back up and put him in his cradle.” She dropped a soft kiss on the baby’s forehead. “How does that sound, Master Stephen?”

The baby responded with another chortle as he managed to snake one arm out from under his blanket, grasping the lace collar of her wrapper in his tiny grip.

“I would be ever so grateful,” Rose said with a mighty yawn. “I’m starting to think that the only way I’ll get some shut-eye is to go back to work next door.” She gave Justine a sleepy grin. “At least I’m flat on my back when I’m working over there.”

“Yes, well, don’t worry,” Justine said, eager to cut short that particular line of conversation. “I’ll make sure Stephen is well asleep before I bring him back up.”

With another yawn, Rose went back to bed while Justine hefted the baby more comfortably over her shoulder and opened the door into the hallway. As usual, a lamp was burning on a side table in the hall. There always seemed to be someone awake in the Steele household, regardless of the hour. Not that it ever kept her awake or seemed to disturb anyone else. She’d learned early on that the master, as unconventional as he was, ran an orderly household. For a man reputed to be a crime lord, he certainly seemed to prefer peace and quiet, at least when it came to his living arrangements. There was little about him that wasn’t dramatic and, yes, fascinating, but she’d quickly discovered that he was a highly disciplined and organized man who demanded the same qualities in his staff.