Behind me, a cluster of nurses whispered among themselves, every word carrying in the stillness.
"Everyone knows Mr. Gilbert only cares about the young master. She's just the mother of some illegitimate daughter, and she has the nerve to throw a fit?"
"Exactly. If she can't even leverage her own child for status, what kind of mistress is she?"
I bit down on my lower lip until I tasted iron, then forced myself to look at Thomas.
He acted as though he hadn't heard a word. Completely unbothered.
No correction. No defense.
He was just watching the child on the other bed, his gaze lingering with a tenderness I'd never once been given.
"Stop making a scene. Douglas just fell asleep."
"No wonder God made you wait all those years before giving you a child. You don't have the first idea how to be a mother."
My eyes went wide.
My hand moved before I could think. The slap cracked across his face.
A sharp sound split the quiet. Half his face swelled red, and his brow furrowed.
"Thomas Gilbert. You know exactly why I couldn't get pregnant all those years."
He stiffened. The crease in his brow slowly relaxed into something blank.
"Enough. That was forever ago. How long are you going to hold onto it?"