Free Sins of Omission by Irina Shapiro

surprised.  Nursing was so natural, yet Neve seemed to be squirming as well. 
    “My nipples are tender,” she replied, “and she’s gumming them very hard.  It’s painful.”
    “I’m sorry you suffered so,” Hugo said as he brushed back a curl of Neve’s golden hair.  “I would have gladly taken your pain if I could.”
    “And I would have gladly given it to you,” Neve replied with a chuckle.  “I don’t know how some women do this again and again.  I felt as if I were being torn apart.  Don’t ever touch me again,” Neve said with mock seriousness.  “Well, at least not for a year or so.”
    “I don’t think I’ll be able to without remembering what I’d put you through,” Hugo replied.
    “How is Frances?  Is she all right?” Neve asked as she shifted the baby to the other breast.
    “Frances was wonderful, actually.  She made quite an impression at Luke’s soiree.  There wasn’t a man there who was immune to her charms.  Luke got quite territorial; he hardly left her side.”
    “And what did Frances think of that?”
    “She was gracious, but I think she was glad to leave. She’d never attended this kind of gathering before and felt quite overwhelmed by all the attention.”
    “I hope you didn’t hover over her shoulder the entire evening, scaring away eager young men,” Neve said with a raised eyebrow.  She knew him too well.
    “No, I spent the evening indulging in mindless chatter, false flattery, and vicious gossip.  I was on my best behavior,” Hugo replied with an impish grin.  “But when it’s time for Valentine to be introduced into society, I will be armed to the teeth and ready to challenge any man who so much as looks at her.”
    “Oh, God,” Neve moaned, “don’t even talk to me about marrying her off.  She’s two hours old; let me enjoy her before you start playing the overprotective papa who’s plotting an advantageous match.”
    Hugo just laughed joyfully.  He was suddenly unbearably happy.  Neve seemed to be feeling much stronger, and the baby was sucking vigorously, ravenous after her ordeal.  She seemed robust, which was all he could ask for at this moment.

Chapter 9
     
    The church clock chimed two a.m., but Frances couldn’t get to sleep.  She pushed aside the bed hangings and threw open the shutters, watching as thick flakes of snow fell from a strangely colorless sky onto the rooftops just visible from her window.  The night was eerily quiet, only the chimes of the clock disturbing the deep peace that had settled onto the city as it often did when it snowed.  Tonight had been a surprise on many counts, and she’d experienced feelings that were foreign to her, having spent most of her young life shut away from society. 
    Normally, she felt sorrow and pain, but never joy.  The gathering at Luke Marsden’s house had been a glittering affair with beautifully attired guests, delicious tidbits passed around by liveried servants, and a singer whose sublime voice transported Frances to an unfamiliar emotional plane.  She had no idea what the woman was singing about, but her throaty voice carried Frances off to another place, a place where anything was possible, and a heart could soar to the heavens, freed of its constraints.  She hadn’t realized that she was crying until Luke gently wiped her tears away with his handkerchief.  He reached out and took her gloved hand, planting a feather-light kiss on the inch of exposed wrist as his eyes caressed hers.  Frances smiled at the memory of Hugo’s indignant scowl, but he hadn’t said a word and allowed Luke to woo her, which was surprising. 
    Frances supposed that it was natural for Lord Everly to wish her to wed.  After all, she wasn’t his kin, and he had no obligation to her past whatever he chose to accept.  He wouldn’t force her, she was sure of that, but he wanted her future assured.  So did she.  Of course, marriage was the only way forward for someone like her, but she