Free Duchess 02 - Surprising Lord Jack by Sally Mackenzie

flushed and mumbled something.
    Jack cleared his throat. This was awkward, but he couldn’t let Francis stew about his feelings. “You . . . well, has your brother talked to you about the, er, changes a boy goes through in becoming a man?”
    “No!” The lad’s ears turned red and he started walking faster.
    “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, though I know it can be confusing. When I—”
    “Oh, there’s the curricle!”
    Jack grabbed the boy’s arm before he could dart ahead. He remembered all too well the conflicting emotions of that age—desire, shame, confusion, worry, excitement. “Francis, it’s all right if you wanted Bessie to touch your cock—”
    “Oh!” Francis shouted. “We’d better hurry. I’m sure you should be taking that baby wherever you’re taking him. I’ll just run ahead and climb into the curricle, shall I? So we’re ready to go at once?” He managed to twist free and took off as if all the hounds of hell were after him.
    Jack sighed and looked down at the dog. “These are some of the toughest years, you know, when a boy is neither a child nor a man.”
    The dog barked in apparent agreement and waved his tail.
    When they reached the Nag’s Head, Francis was sitting ramrod straight in the passenger’s seat. He might as well have hung a sign around his neck—DO NOT DISCUSS BESSIE.
     
     
    Dear God, this masquerade was hopelessly out of control. Lord Jack had almost . . . he’d almost told her . . . it had been kind of him to try to calm a boy’s fears, but she wasn’t a boy.
    She gripped the side of the curricle. She couldn’t let him talk about . . . about something so private, but what would she do if he started back in on it when they were going wherever it was they were going?
    She should not be going anywhere with the man. He was a despicable rake. He’d been all too familiar with that old whore and that dreadful Albert. And he’d walked right into the madam’s office, if that’s what the room indeed was, when the woman had been engaged in shocking behavior with that disgusting Lord Ruland. And those girls who’d been talking to her—he’d known their names without an introduction.
    He was crossing the street now. He was so big, but he held the tiny baby so confidently . . .
    Well, of course rakes would know all about babies.
    And now he was coming around to her side of the curricle.
    “Here, Francis,” he said, “take the infant from me.”
    Oh God. She looked at the red bundle, her heart thudding in her chest. She’d never held a baby before, and this one was so small. “I can’t.”
    “You have to.” His voice was sharp with impatience. “As you said, we need to hurry. The infant can’t wait much longer for a wet nurse.”
    She didn’t know anything about wet nurses either. Viola had scoffed at any subject that touched on a feminine skill. But the poor child clearly needed something. She gingerly held out her arms.
    “He doesn’t bite, at least not yet,” Jack said. “Hold him securely.”
    “Securely?”
    “Yes. Support his head—young babies have weak necks. Like this.” Jack adjusted the infant’s position so his head rested on the crook of her arm.
    There was almost nothing to hold, the bundle was so light. She looked down into the tiny face, half hidden in the shawl. Was he even breathing? “Are babies always so small and still?”
    “No. This poor fellow isn’t well, which is why we need to get him help quickly.”
    “Oh.” The baby’s eyelids fluttered and his lips moved slightly; Frances felt a surprising spurt of pleasure. “I think he smiled at me.”
    Jack grunted. “It was probably gas.” He went to retrieve the reins from Henry and give him his coins.
    “Ack!” The moment Jack moved away, the dog scrambled up onto the seat next to her. Frances clutched the baby tighter. “Get down!”
    Jack glanced back to see what the problem was. “Hey there, sir!”
    The dog dropped his head and whined piteously. He looked at