Page 106 of Three Weeks with a Princess
Jack took one look at her and burst into laughter.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lia stared down at her bodice, then looked at Jack, who was practically doubled over with mirth. Sighing, she fumbled for her kerchief and wiped the baby’s chin. Dom now seemed as happy as a robin in springtime, despite his little mishap. He chortled as she cleaned him up, waving his fists with glee.
“I don’t know why you find this so amusing,” she said to Jack in a grumpy tone. “Babies throw up all the time. It’s what they do.”
“Yes, I know,” he said, trying to contain himself. “It’s just that I finally had the chance to woo you in an appropriately romantic fashion, only to have young Dominic decide to interrupt us so emphatically. It’s rather ridiculous, you must admit.”
She grimaced as she dabbed at her bodice. Lia had only worn the lovely primrose gown twice and suspected it would never be the same, even after a thorough cleaning.
“I think it’s very mean of you to laugh at my predicament,” she said, trying to maintain her dignity. It was a challenge because Dom now had grabbed her hair and was yanking with a fair degree of enthusiasm.
“You’re right,” Jack said. “But I can’t help wondering how many courtesans find themselves in this sort of position. It would be rather off-putting to the average lover, you have to admit.”
Lia was beginning to wonder if she did have the necessary skills or even the luck to become a successful courtesan. So far, she’d been an utter failure, and this silly incident seemed to underscore that point.
“Now, darling, don’t pull my hair,” she said in coaxing voice to Dom. She tried to ease a lock away from him, but he had a tenacious grip for one so small. “You don’t want to—ouch!”
The baby yanked so hard it made her eyes water. Or so Lia told herself. Truthfully, though, she was close to succumbing to an inconvenient bout of tears. She rarely cried, but the stresses of the last several weeks were finally catching up to her, and at the worst possible moment. It would make Jack even more convinced she was completely inept and that he needed to take care of her.
“Here, pass me the little imp before he hurts you,” he said, reaching for the baby.
“He’s a complete mess. He’ll ruin your coat.”
“He’s not as messy as you are.” He gently pried the baby’s fingers apart. “You’re a disaster.”
Even though he was joking, tears pricked her eyes. It wasn’t just her dress that was a disaster—it was her entire life.
“Come here, scamp,” he said, lifting the baby into his arms. Dom went happily enough, transferring his interest from Lia’s coiffure to Jack’s cravat.
“I told you,” she said dolefully as she watched the baby demolish the neckcloth’s crisp folds.
Jack gave her an assessing glance. “It’s just a cravat, love. Now, sit down and rest for a moment.”
“I should go up and get changed.”
“Sit,” he said in a stern voice.
And she did, likely because she didn’t have the strength to argue.
Jack carried Dom out to the hall. She heard him talking to Smithwell, and then he returned without the baby, locking the door behind him. If she’d had her wits in any kind of order she’d no doubt be alarmed by that particular action, but all her energy was currently focused on not covering her face with a pillow and sobbing hysterically.
“You gave the baby to Smithwell?” she asked as he joined her.
“He was appropriately appalled by Dom’s unfortunate state, but I have every confidence he’ll be able to handle the situation. Besides, there’s a houseful of staff to assist him.”
“You should have let me take him up. I have to change anyway.” She lifted her lace collar and tentatively sniffed. “I smell ghastly and this dress is ruined. It’s one of my favorites, too.” Her voice wobbled.
He gently arranged her so that her back was facing him. “I’ll buy you a new one just like it,” he said as he started to unbutton her dress.
“Jack, wh-what are you doing?”
“I’m getting you out of this. You’re the one who said you smell ghastly.”
“Youcannotundress me in Aunt Chloe’s drawing room. You should just go.”
“One, I have no intention of leaving, not until we finish our discussion.”
