Chapter 15

The baby was not born beautiful; honestly, no child ever was. But she became beautiful quickly. And, as weeks turned into months, she developed into a little blonde cherub with bright, curious eyes and a smile that could have been designed to melt hearts. Helen often found herself standing by the crib, just watching the little one at repose. Often, James would join her, staring at the baby with a look of wonder that she doubted had been seen on the face of many men beholding their own natural-born child.

"She's charming," James observed one afternoon. "And flexible," he added with a chuckle, as Ashley tried to chew on her own foot. "Perhaps we were wrong. She'll not be a scholar but a circus contortionist."

Snorting softly, she nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, shaking her head. "Look at her eyes, James. She's going to be a genius."

"I never doubted that she would be," he answered, bending and feathering that perfect little face with tender kisses.

Ashley cooed, as she always did when her mama or papa gave her attention, and promptly passed out from the excitement. Chuckling, James gently covered her over and tucked her in.

"Well, that gives you a few hours to rest," he noted to Helen, smiling warmly. "It's best to enjoy your sleep while you can. Before we know it, she'll be keeping us up all night, every night."

"I'm honestly not tired for once," she told him, biting her lip. "My body seems to be recovering. I'm nowhere near where I was before the pregnancy, but I'm definitely in better shape than I've been for months now."

"That's wonderful!" he answered, beaming and resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "How's the, ah... discharge?" he asked, turning a bit pink.

She felt herself blush in answer, but couldn't bring herself to be annoyed by yet another very personal question from him. He'd spent most of the pregnancy worried about her bowels or her urinary habits, after all. From anyone else, it might have felt invasive. From James, it just felt like unofficious, solicitous concern for her well-being.

"Almost gone. A little behind schedule, but not alarmingly so. I'll see a midwife if it doesn't clear up by the end of the month," she assured him. "Spring will be here before we know it," she added by way of changing the subject. "We should take Ashley for her first walk on the grounds as soon as the warm weather arrives."

"Oh, now that's a lovely idea!" he answered, smiling and nodding eagerly. "We'll go on the first nice day. She'll love the fresh air."

"And, next year, when winter comes again, I'm sure she'll love the snow."

"So she will," he agreed, chuckling and wrapping an arm around her waist as he smiled down at the sleeping baby. "Look what you made, Helen…"

"I didn't know it was possible to love someone so much," she admitted, leaning into him and staring down at the perfect little creature asleep in the crib. "I feel like my whole life is different now. All my dreams and plans... they just don't seem as important as they once did."

"They're still important," he assured her. "They may just end up being put on hold for a little while. But, before you know it, she'll be self-sufficient enough to allow you to go back to your studies and help your father in his work again."

"Some day, she'll help, too."

"Of that, I've no doubt," he agreed, giving her waist a little squeeze. "We'll raise her to have all your passion and dedication."

"And your insight and commitment," she added, smiling up at him.

For just a moment, it was easy to forget that this amazing, peaceful little creature was not actually his. She felt a pang as reality reasserted itself, but only a slight one. With James as doting father, Ashley would still have many of his more desirable traits. Sighing softly, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Penny for you thoughts, darling?" he murmured.

"Just wondering what the future holds."

"Good things. Amazing things," he answered with quiet assurance, leaning his cheek against the top of her head. "Now, let's let her rest?"

"I suppose we'll have to hire a governess soon?" she sighed as they left the nursery.

"It can wait as long as you like. There's no rule that says that a child must be raised by the help, after all. If you don't mind sacrificing the time, why shouldn't we take an active role in her upbringing? It worked for your father and you."

"Right up until the illegitimate pregnancy..."

"Helen," he chided, shaking his head. "Whatever else is or is not true, Ashley is a blessing. We're lucky to have her."

"I know. I know we are. I just..." She bit her lip, chuckling weakly. "I sometimes wonder what it would have been like if it had been you, not John."

"An understandable line of thought," he answered, steering her into the sitting room. "Shall I send for tea?"

"Please." Nodding, she sat down, smoothing her skirts. "Do you ever wonder? About what it would have been like if things were different?"

"Sometimes," he admitted, ringing the bell and then moving to sit beside her. "But you never quite saw me in that way. I've always been content with your friendship. It's more than most men could ever hope for from a woman like you."

She bit her lip at that, reaching for his hand. "Then you don't want more? You never have?"

"Don't, Helen," he whispered, shaking his head and giving her hand a squeeze. "I was always in a difficult position with regards to you, and John. The two people I loved most in the world, engaged to be married... It wasn't easy. It hurt, sometimes more than there are words to describe."

She bit her lip hard at that frank admission, clearing her throat. "You never said."

"How could I? You two were happy together. Why would I even think to try to get in the way of that?"

"So you did want more?" she asked quietly, heart fluttering a bit. Could she really have mistaken desire for indifference for so long?

"I wanted your happiness. The specifics never much mattered." He shrugged. "If I'd known then what I do now, I'd have done everything in my power to wrest you away from John. I would have fought to keep you apart."

"Part of me wishes you had."

"But then we wouldn't have Ashley. I shudder at the thought of him putting his hands on you after the Source, but I'm grateful for the result."

"Me, too," she answered, smiling at him and looking up as a maid entered. "James and I will take our afternoon tea in here, thank you," she told the girl.

"Yes, Mrs. Watson," she answered, curtsying before ducking out of the room again.

"I may never get used to being called that," she chuckled, shaking her head.

"Would you like me to have Mrs. Baines direct them to call you something else? Mistress Helen, perhaps? Or Madame?"

"That makes me sound so old," she protested, laughing and swatting him.

"Dame Helen?" he offered, smirking a bit. "We aren't technically due the family titles while my father is alive, but..."

"Stop it, James," she giggled, poking him in the ribs. "You're incorrigible. I don't want a title. You know that."

"Miss Helen, then? As if you were unmarried?" he asked, looking dubious.

"Would you mind terribly?" she asked, biting her lip.

"No. No, not if it makes you more comfortable. I just wish you'd said something months ago."

She shrugged. "I had so many other things on my mind."

"I suppose you do have less to worry about now. Your baby is healthy, and strong, and she'll be happy. When you're a parent, little else matters."

"Yet you're already planning for her future. Father told me what you said in your last letter about her working with us eventually."

"It was just a passing comment. And you didn't seem to mind the idea much yourself, during the pregnancy. Have you changed your mind since?"

"No, I just suppose I didn't expect you to bring it up to father so early. I wanted time to prepare him for the idea."

"Well, I'm sorry if I overstepped. But he's a forward-thinking man. Even if he has some initial resistance to the idea, it won't last, not any more than it did when he had to decide whether to share his world with you. He sees that the value a woman can have to his work is no less than that a man can have."

"You're right, of course," she answered, smiling and reaching for his hands. "You're like him that way. You never make me feel... lesser for being a woman. Neither of you ever have. It's good to know that my daughter will grow up with a father and a grandfather who feel that way about her, like she's an equal."

"No, not an equal." He shook his head. "She's always be that baby in her cradle to me, even when she's a grown woman. But it will never be her gender that sets her apart in my eyes. That you may rely on."

She smiled warmly at that, kissing his cheek. "You're a good man, James Watson."

"I certainly do my best to be," he answered, wearing that shy smile he sometimes donned when she praised him.

It was endearing. She could have gotten used to seeing it more often. She could have gotten used to a lot of things, she realized. Sighing happily, she leaned back and waited for the tea to arrive.