He must have walked the floor for hours, comforting the baby. She couldn’t begin to tell him how much it meant to her.

She set the tray down, tiptoeing so as not to wake them. His dark hair fell over his eyes while a strong arm held the baby securely in place. Victoria gripped his silk dressing robe in her fists.

The sight of them held her transfixed. She longed to tell him how grateful she was for helping with the children. Last night he had handled both Royce’s tantrum and Victoria’s crying.

She reached out to him and brushed the wayward strand of hair from his forehead. His straight nose and gentle mouth lured her closer. Before she could stop her impulse, she leaned down and pressed her mouth to his.

Stephen woke at the touch of her lips. For a moment, he appeared confused about where he was. Then he straightened, careful so as not to wake Victoria.

“How did you get the baby to fall asleep?” she asked.

“I put a warm cloth beneath her left ear.” He pointed to a discarded blanket. “She kept tugging at it last night, and the heat seemed to ease her pain. You might wish to have Dr. Parsons examine her today, however.”

“I’ll send for him.” She poured him a cup of tea and set it on the table, taking Victoria from his arms. The baby moaned, tucking her head beneath Emily’s chin. Gently, Emily set her down in the crib. Thankfully, the child did not awaken.

Stephen took a sip of tea. “Somehow, I doubt you waited for me in bed last night.”

She shrugged. “I slept outside the door.”

“And I suppose you were wearing clothes, too.”

His regretful tone almost made her smile. “I didn’t want to shock Farnsworth.”

“Don’t wear them tonight,” he said, his voice deep and resonant.

“Stephen, I don’t think—”

“I made you cry,” he interrupted. “I’m sorry for that. But not for touching you.” His voice took on a deeper timbre, making her flush. “You didn’t kiss me properly before.”

“It was only meant to thank you,” she said. “I didn’t intend to bother you.”

“I want you to bother me.” He leaned forward, resting his wrists upon his open knees.

“What is it you want, Stephen? You haven’t even decided whether or not to keep me as your wife.” Her heart ached, but she had to voice her greatest fear—that he would turn his back on her now.

“And what if I do?”

A frail hope took root, but she was too afraid it wasn’t real. “I don’t know if I believe that. Even if there wasn’t a threat on your life, we’ve become so different.”

Stephen rose and took a step forward. Then another. “We weren’t so different years ago.”