Chapter 2 The Woman At His Side

A wedding.

The word was still ringing in Ivy's ears when Alexander called her name for the second time.

"Miss Sinclair."

She blinked, startled out of her thoughts.

Alexander Vanderbilt stood before her, his expression growing impatient. Beside him was a woman Ivy recognized immediately from the photographs scattered across gossip magazines and society websites.

Vanessa Hartwell.

Alexander's fiancée.

She was breathtaking, with golden hair arranged in perfect waves, a cream dress that complemented her complexion, and a smile polished enough to convince anyone that she had never harbored an unkind thought in her life.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Vanderbilt," Ivy murmured.

"Pay attention," he replied coolly. "You are here to care for my son. I expect you to remain focused on that responsibility."

"Of course, sir."

"Oh, Alexander, don't frighten the poor girl." Vanessa laughed softly before turning her attention to Ivy. "I'm Vanessa. I've heard so much about you. Mrs. Cordelia tells me you're wonderful with children."

"That's very kind of her."

"Now, where is my little man?"

Before Ivy could respond, Vanessa approached the crib and lifted Milo into her arms.

The baby stirred, his face scrunching as he awakened. For a moment, he stared at the unfamiliar woman holding him.

Then he began to cry.

"Oh, sweetheart," Vanessa cooed, bouncing him gently. "What's wrong? It's Mommy."

Milo's cries grew louder. He twisted in her arms, his tiny fists waving as though determined to escape.

"Shh, my darling. Mommy's here."

Ivy's fingers curled at her sides.

Mommy.

The word stung, but she forced herself to remain still.

Vanessa tried rocking him, then shifted him against her shoulder.

"Come on, my love. It's all right. You're with Mommy now."

Milo responded with an even louder wail.

"Vanessa," Alexander warned.

"I'm trying, darling!" she protested, her smile beginning to falter. "He's just being difficult."

Ivy could barely contain herself. The baby was clearly distressed, yet Vanessa continued repeating the same words as though calling herself his mother would somehow make him recognize her.

"My son is probably tired," Vanessa announced, sounding almost offended by his resistance. "He can be rather particular, can't he?"

My son.

Ivy swallowed her irritation.

Your son?

The words burned behind her teeth, but she dared not speak them aloud.

Vanessa finally extended Milo toward her.

"Here, Miss Sinclair. Take him before he wakes the entire household."

Ivy stepped forward and carefully gathered him into her arms, supporting his head.

"There you are, sweetheart," she whispered. "I've got you."

Almost immediately, Milo's cries subsided. He hiccupped, nestled against her neck, and curled his little fingers into her dress.

The silence that followed was remarkable.

Alexander's gaze lingered on them.

Vanessa, however, looked distinctly unimpressed.

"Well, I suppose he's simply attached to his routine," she said. "He's always been a sensitive little boy."

She reached out to stroke his cheek.

"Come here, darling. Come to Mommy."

Milo turned his face away.

Vanessa tried again, reaching to take him from Ivy.

"Come on, sweetheart. Mommy wants to hold you."

The moment her hands approached him, Milo clung more tightly to Ivy and buried his face against her shoulder.

His little mouth trembled.

Vanessa's arms remained outstretched for a moment before she slowly withdrew them.

"Oh, honestly," she muttered, quickly recovering her smile. "He seems to have chosen his favorite."

Ivy lowered her face, pretending to adjust Milo's position.

A small, satisfied smile crept onto her lips.

That's right, my baby.

She immediately composed herself, though the warmth spreading through her chest was impossible to suppress.

Vanessa noticed the movement.

"Take good care of my son, Miss Sinclair," she said, her voice suddenly firmer. "He's precious to Alexander and me, and I expect you to treat him accordingly."

"I will, Miss Hartwell."

"Good. My son deserves nothing but the best."

Ivy's smile nearly returned.

There she goes again.

Alexander glanced at his watch. "Come along, Vanessa. We have things to discuss."

Vanessa slipped her hand through his arm, but not before giving Milo one final, assessing look.

"Good night, sweetheart. Mommy will see you tomorrow."

Milo remained firmly tucked against Ivy.

Ivy had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

The couple departed, leaving her alone in the nursery.

She looked down at Milo and gently brushed his curls away from his forehead.

"A wedding," she whispered bitterly. "Of course he's getting married."

Milo answered with a sleepy sigh.

Ivy kissed the top of his head before remembering herself.

"Never mind, little one. Let's get you to bed."

She laid him in his crib and stood watching him until his eyes closed.

Then she returned to the small room beside the nursery, carrying the ache in her chest with her.

She had come here for her son.

She had to remember that.

Nothing else mattered.

---

By six the following morning, Mrs. Hale had taken Ivy all over the house. She briefly Ivy with Milo's routine, explained where his supplies were kept, and outlined the essential rules of the household. Ivy listened carefully, committing everything to memory.

"You are responsible for Milo's care," Mrs. Hale explained. "His needs come first. You are to remain within the nursery and staff areas unless given permission to go elsewhere. You must also maintain professional boundaries with the family. Mr. Vanderbilt is your employer, and Miss Hartwell is his fiancée. Remember that."

Mrs. Hale had barely finished speaking when a familiar voice interrupted them.

"Miss Sinclair! You're just the girl I've been looking for."

Vanessa approached with a bright smile, dressed in a pale pink outfit that looked considerably more expensive than anything Ivy owned.

Behind her stood Janine, the maid with the neat dark bob who had accompanied Vanessa the previous afternoon.

"Miss Hartwell," Ivy greeted her.

Vanessa's gaze traveled over Ivy's dress.

"Oh, darling, you really must do something about your wardrobe."

Ivy glanced down at herself.

"Is there a problem with my dress?"

"Not at all!" Vanessa exclaimed. "You actually look rather lovely in it. The color suits you, and the fit is surprisingly good."

The compliment sounded genuine enough to be confusing.

Then Vanessa smiled.

"Which is precisely why I had an idea. I have several dresses I no longer wear. Some are practically new. Rather than letting them sit in my wardrobe, I thought I might give a few to you."

Ivy stared at her.

"That's very generous, Miss Hartwell, but I don't think—"

"Oh, please don't misunderstand me." Vanessa waved away the objection. "I simply believe everyone should look presentable in a household like this. There will be important guests, and I would hate for you to feel out of place."

Her smile remained warm.

The implication did not.

"I appreciate the offer," Ivy replied carefully.

"Wonderful! Janine will arrange everything."

Janine nodded. "Of course, Miss Hartwell."

For a brief moment, the maid's eyes met Ivy's.

There was something unreadable in them before she looked away.

Vanessa clasped her hands together.

"Well, I must be going. Alexander has been terribly busy lately, and I haven't had nearly enough of his attention."

She laughed lightly, as though the observation were a harmless joke.

Then she turned toward the corridor, Janine following close behind.

Ivy watched them disappear before releasing a breath.

Mrs. Hale gave her a sympathetic glance.

"Miss Hartwell has a generous side," she remarked diplomatically.

"I'm sure she does," Ivy answered.

She hoped her expression conveyed nothing more.

---

That night, Milo began crying shortly after eleven.

At first, Ivy assumed he was hungry or uncomfortable. She checked his diaper, adjusted his blanket, and tried rocking him.

Nothing worked.

His cries grew more distressed, his little face flushed as he struggled in her arms.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

She pressed her palm against his forehead, then gently touched his cheek.

He was warm.

A flicker of panic shot through her.

"Milo?"

He cried harder.

Ivy carefully opened his mouth, trying to see what might be troubling him. He turned his head and struggled, making it difficult to examine his gums.

"Just let me see, darling. Please."

When she finally managed to glimpse the swollen gum, she understood.

His first teeth were coming through.

"Oh, sweetheart."

Relief came first, followed almost immediately by worry. She knew teething could make babies miserable, but knowing the cause did little to quiet Milo's cries.

She tried giving him his teething ring and gently rubbing his gums, but he remained inconsolable.

Minutes passed.

Then more minutes.

His crying filled the nursery until Ivy felt her own composure beginning to fracture.

She had cared for him countless times in secret, but tonight she was frightened. What if she had missed something? What if it was more than teething?

She pressed him against her shoulder and rocked him.

"Please, baby. Please settle down."

The nursery door opened.

"What is going on?"

Alexander stood in the doorway, his expression tense as he looked between Ivy and the crying child.

"Mr. Vanderbilt." Ivy straightened immediately. "I'm sorry if I've disturbed you."

"Forget that. What's wrong with him?"

"I believe he's teething. His gums are swollen, and he's been crying for some time. I've tried his teething ring, but he won't settle."

Alexander crossed the room and touched Milo's forehead.

"Has he been this warm all evening?"

"I only noticed it a little while ago."

His expression sharpened.

"All right. I'll call the doctor."

He retrieved his phone and contacted Dr Osei, a pediatrician. Ivy continued rocking the baby while Alexander explained the symptoms and listened carefully to the instructions.

When the call ended, he turned to her.

"The doctor says to keep him comfortable, offer his usual feeds, and use the chilled teething ring. We need to monitor his temperature, and if it rises further or he develops any concerning symptoms, we're to bring him in immediately."

Ivy nodded, absorbing every word.

"All right."

Alexander watched Milo struggle against her shoulder.

"May I?"

She hesitated before carefully transferring the baby into his arms.

Milo immediately began crying harder.

Alexander's jaw tightened.

"Apparently, he has opinions about me."

Despite her worry, Ivy almost smiled.

"You're holding him too tightly, sir."

He glanced at her.

"Excuse me?"

"Support his head, but relax your arms a little. He needs to feel secure, not trapped."

For a moment, Alexander looked as though nobody had ever dared to correct him in his own home.

Then he adjusted his hold.

Milo's cries softened, though they did not disappear.

"Like this?" Alexander asked.

"Yes. That's better."

She stepped closer and gently repositioned Milo's little hand against his father's chest.

Their fingers brushed.

Neither moved immediately.

Alexander's gaze met hers, and for one brief, unsettling moment, Ivy forgot about the room, the hour, and the fact that the man standing before her was the father of the child she had secretly carried.

Then Milo whimpered, and the moment broke.

"Perhaps we should work together," Alexander said.

Ivy nodded.

They spent the next several minutes tending to Milo, taking turns holding him and soothing him. Alexander followed the doctor's instructions while Ivy prepared the things they needed. When the baby began crying again, she showed Alexander how to cradle him more comfortably.

Gradually, Milo settled.

His cries dwindled to occasional whimpers, and his tiny fingers loosened around Alexander's shirt.

"There," Ivy whispered. "That's better."

Alexander looked down at his son, relief softening his features.

Then he glanced at Ivy.

"You seem to know exactly what he needs."

"Babies aren't always as complicated as they seem."

"Is that so?"

"Sometimes they simply want to know someone is there."

Alexander studied her for a moment.

"And what if the person doesn't know what to do?"

Ivy looked at him.

"Then they learn."

Something shifted in his expression, something quieter than curiosity.

"I suppose they do."

The silence that followed was unexpectedly comfortable. They looked like two exhausted parents sharing the responsibility of a difficult night, passing their baby between them and working together until his distress finally eased. The thought made Ivy's heart ache.

She looked away first.

---

By the time Milo's crying stopped completely, the nursery had fallen quiet.Ivy gently lowered him into his crib while Alexander stood beside her, watching to make sure he was comfortable.

Milo stirred once, then settled.

Alexander leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead.

"Good boy," he murmured.

Ivy watched the tender gesture, her chest tightening at the sight.

For all his coldness, Alexander loved his son.

That much was undeniable.

The nursery door opened.

"Alexander? There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

Vanessa stood in the doorway, her expression pleasant but her eyes immediately drawn to the two figures beside the crib.

Alexander straightened.

"I was checking on Milo."

"At this hour?" Vanessa asked lightly. "You should be resting. You have an early morning tomorrow."

"I'll be in my study."

His tone was clipped, and Ivy noticed the faint look of annoyance crossing his face.

Vanessa noticed it too.

"Of course, darling."

Alexander gave Milo one final glance before walking toward the door.

"Good night, Vanessa."

"Good night, darling." She said with a bright smile.

He passed her without another word.

Vanessa watched him disappear down the corridor, her smile slowly fading.

Then she turned back to Ivy.

Her gaze traveled from the crib to the chair beside it, then settled on Ivy's face.

"So," she asked softly, "how long has my fiancé been here?"