“"'Cause nobody's socks are as nice as Mama's.""Hush," scolded Mrs. Bartle, though Edward could tell she was fighting a smile.He wasn't sure he should ask for an explanation. Instead, he hitched young Ivan to a sitting position and anchored him to his chest with the bend of his arm. "Now I've got you, little man. We'll see if you can get at my tea from there."The baby squealed with pleasure and flapped his pudgy hands. His little feet pummeled Edward's thigh. He was strong, this boy, strong and ...full of life."What a bruiser." Edward chuckled."Like his father," Mrs. Bartle agreed, seeming pleased not to have to wrestle for once with her youngest child. She smiled cagily over the rim of her cup. "You're good with babies, your lordship. Almost as good as Miss Fairleigh.""I suppose I remember when Freddie was this age." He set his cup on the floor so he could mop a bit of drool from Ivan's chin. "He was better than a new pony to me. A happy baby, just like this fellow."Florence popped up from the seat as if something had bitten her.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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