His children! Elizabeth’s stomach fluttered nervously as she walked beside Justin down the long hallway that led to the nursery. She had little experience of children—certainly nothing to prepare her for dealing with a three-year-old toddler who puzzled doctors because she did not speak. Her stomach fluttered again. She pressed her hand against it and took a deep breath. Was there to be nothing normal in her new life?
Elizabeth glanced up at Justin from under her lowered lashes. He was staring down at her hand and frowning. She was beginning to dread those frowns. She lifted her hand to touch the brooch on her gown and Justin’s gaze followed the movement, then continued to raise. She looked down at the floor, but she could feel his gaze on her face. After a moment the sensation faded away. She took a chance and glanced up. His own face, again viewed through the concealing fringe of her long, thick lashes, revealed nothing, but she could sense anger in him.
Elizabeth sighed. That same anger had been present when he had told her of the child’s condition, and that the doctors he had consulted felt there was no physical reason for her silence. Was he angry because the toddler was less than perfect? Was that what made him sound so distant when he spoke of the little girl and her baby sister?
She frowned and looked down at the carpet runner disappearing beneath her long skirts as she hurried her steps to keep pace with Justin’s long strides. Did he not love them? A sudden rush of anger toward him on his children’s behalf swept over her. She knew what it was like to have parents that didn’t love you—that were cold and indifferent to you. Oh, God, help me to love these children. To be a good mother to them. And please give me wisdom to help—
“Elizabeth?” Justin grasped her arm. “This is the nursery.”
Why was she lying down? Elizabeth opened her eyes, took one look at the dark, scowling visage looming over her, and promptly closed them again. “Wh-what happened?”
“You swooned—again.”
The word was pointedly emphasized.
“Oh.” Elizabeth opened her eyes and, careful to avoid Justin’s irate gaze, glanced around the strange room. “Where are we?”
“The third-floor sitting room. I didn’t want the nursery thrown into an upheaval.”
“No, of course not.” She could feel him glaring at her. She stirred uneasily, wishing he would move away. He didn’t. “How did I get here?”
“I carried you—again.”
The words were spit out as if he couldn’t stand the taste of them in his mouth. Elizabeth pushed herself to a sitting position while Justin stood and watched. He made no offer of help. She bit her lower lip and looked down at the floor. He was very angry. “I’m sorry, Justin. I—”
“Don’t apologize, Elizabeth, I don’t want your apology. I want the truth! I demand the truth.” He clasped his hands behind his back and stared down at her. “Why did you swoon?”
“I don’t know. I—” A sudden image of Justin’s hand on her arm, every pore of his skin, every crisply curling hair clearly visible, halted her words. A deep shudder passed through her. She had swooned when he had gripped her arm. But why? Why? What was wrong with her?
“Well?”
The word exploded from Justin. Elizabeth flinched. How could she explain to him what she didn’t understand herself? She blinked back hot tears. “I don’t know why I swooned. But I am fine now, and—”
“How fortunate.” His voice dripped sarcasm. His eyes narrowed. “And how untrue.”
“I beg your pardon!”
“And well you might!” Justin glowered at her. “I am tired of your lies, Elizabeth. You are not fine. Nor will you be for several months. Admit the truth! I know you are with child!”
“With child!” Elizabeth jumped to her feet and almost fell. Her legs were wobbly. She braced them against the Chippendale sofa she had been lying on and gaped up at Justin. “With child?” She couldn’t even grasp the idea. “How did you ever—? I’m not with child.”
“You are certain of that?” Justin’s tone was scathing. He held up his hand when she started to speak. “Before you answer, Elizabeth, it’s only fair for me to warn you I will no longer tolerate your lying to me!”
“Lying to— I do not lie, sir!” Elizabeth drew herself up with regal dignity. “Nor am I with child. And I am very certain of that. It’s quite impossible!”
“Impossible? Hah!” Justin snorted. “The only way it would be impossible is if you have never—” He stopped short and stared down at her. “Are you telling me that you have never—”
“I believe my meaning is quite clear, sir. And I do not discuss such things with a gentleman!” Elizabeth’s cheeks felt as if they were on fire. She grasped her long skirt in both hands, lifted her chin into the air and sailed out of the room.
Justin stood rooted to the floor by shock. Why would Elizabeth lie about carrying a child now? He was already ensnared—and such a lie would become apparent in a few weeks’ time.
He lifted his hands, raked his fingers through his hair, and shook his head in disgust. There was only one answer. He had made a colossal error in judgment! But if she wasn’t with child, why would she—?
Greed. The word slid smoothly into Justin’s mind. Yes…of course…greed. Money! Always money. He twisted his lips into a bitter smile. What did you expect? Wasn’t your plan based on a woman’s greed? And didn’t you vow to accept that?
Justin swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat, gave a snort of disgust and strode out into the hall. “Elizabeth?” His call ended her headlong flight. She turned to face him. “We have an appointment with the children and their nurse. If you are feeling well enough I should like to keep it.”
She stiffened as if her dress were suddenly made of armor. “I am feeling quite well, sir. There is no reason why I should not.”
“Very well.” Justin conceded the point. He led the way to a closed door on the opposite side of the wide hall and placed his hand on the knob. “Remember—we are loving newlyweds.” He pushed open the door.
“You need have no fear, sir.” Elizabeth’s voice was a frosty whisper that chilled him as she swept by. “I shall play my part.”
“Then stop calling me sir!”
Justin hissed the words. Elizabeth gave him a cool nod, stepped over the threshold and swept her gaze around the room. The walls were covered with gaily patterned paper above painted wood paneling lined with shelves of toys and books. A child’s table and chairs held place in front of the shelves. On the wall to the right a brick fireplace threw warmth into the room. An extremely thin woman sat in a Boston rocker on the hearth. A small child sat in a scaled-down version of the same rocker beside her. Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat—the child looked so forlorn!
The woman rose to her feet and Elizabeth shifted her gaze to her face. There was a tight little smile on the woman’s thin straight lips. She dipped her head in their direction.
“Good afternoon, sir…madam.”
Justin closed the door and stepped to Elizabeth’s side. “Good afternoon, Miss Brown. I’ve brought my wife to meet the children.”
“Yes. We’ve been awaiting your arrival.” The nanny placed the book she was holding on one of the shelves built into an alcove formed by the brick fireplace, then snapped her thin, bony fingers at the child. “Quickly, Sarah! Where are your manners? Greet your father and your new mother.”
The little girl slipped from the rocker and curtsied in their direction.
Elizabeth’s heart melted. She glanced at Justin, saw his dark head incline toward the toddler in polite acknowledgment, and felt again that surge of anger on his children’s behalf. Why such formality between father and daughter? Was it because she was here for the first time? Or were they always so distant? She looked back at the toddler and her heart gave a painful jolt. The child had a rag doll clutched to her narrow, little chest.
There was a sudden sharp hiss from the nanny. “Where did you find that filthy thing, Sarah? I thought I’d gotten rid of it!” The woman’s talonlike fingers snatched it out of the child’s hands, then gripped her small shoulder and propelled her forward. “Go and give your new mother a kiss!”
The toddler winced. Tears sprang into her round, brown eyes, but she didn’t make a sound. She looked down at the floor and walked forward.
Elizabeth clenched her hands into fists and dropped to her knees to keep from grabbing the nurse by her skinny shoulders and shaking her. The toddler’s gaze darted to her face at the movement. Elizabeth’s heart swelled. Poor little tyke—she was frightened to death!
“Hello, Sarah. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Elizabeth smiled and took hold of the toddler’s tiny hands. They were trembling. “I hope you and I will become good friends. However, I must tell you that I feel very uncomfortable kissing strangers. And as you and I are not yet friends…well…I hope you won’t mind if we leave the kissing until we know each other better.” The toddler’s round, brown eyes widened. Elizabeth smiled reassurance. She was rewarded by a lessening of the trembling in the child’s hands. She released her hold on them, sat back on her heels, and clasped her own hands in her lap.
“I see you have a doll, Sarah. And I would guess she’s your favorite. I had a favorite doll when I was a little girl.” Elizabeth leaned forward and lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. “Would you like to know my dolly’s name?” She waited for a moment, hoping for a response, something beyond the unnatural silence of the toddler, but there was nothing except a deepened intensity in her gaze. “I called him Mr. Buffy.”
There was an audible sniff from the nurse.
Elizabeth’s anger flared. She looked up and extended her hand. “Give me the doll, Miss Brown.” The woman compressed her lips into a thin line and handed it to her.
Elizabeth looked at the doll’s face and smiled. One button eye was missing. “Well, I must say, Sarah, Mr. Buffy was not as pretty as your doll. But, I loved him anyway.” She smoothed the doll’s well-worn dress over its soiled legs, tucked some loose stuffing back into its torn arm, and looked up. The toddler was staring at her. She smiled and gave her the doll.
“When I come to see you tomorrow, I’ll tell you more about Mr. Buffy if you would like.” She reached out and touched the exposed stuffing on the doll’s arm with her finger. “And I’ll bring my sewing kit and mend your dolly’s arm. For now though, I think she’s tired and would like to rest. If you’ll rock her, I think she’ll go to sleep.”
The toddler stared at Elizabeth for a moment, then turned and climbed into the rocker hugging the doll tightly all the while.
“There’s no need to mend the doll, madam. The child has a new one. I don’t know how she came to have that dirty old rag one today. I threw it out some time ago.”
The nanny’s cold, heartless words, increased Elizabeth’s anger. She watched Sarah curl herself protectively around the doll in her arms, and for an instant she saw herself as a toddler clinging desperately to Mr. Buffy and sobbing because her mother had ordered the doll destroyed. As quickly as it had come the vision vanished, but it was enough. She looked up at the nanny. “Do not do so again, Miss Brown. Sarah is to have her doll.”
The nurse’s eyes glittered—her nostrils flared. “Mr. Randolph is the one that ordered me to throw that old rag away and buy Sarah a new doll.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank. She looked at her husband. “Is that true, Justin?”
“It is.”
The words made her sick. Sarah was his child. She had no authority. “Very well.” She turned back to the toddler. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I spoke rashly. I—” Tears flooded the toddler’s eyes and Elizabeth’s throat closed on her words. She looked at the thin little arms clutching the old, bedraggled doll and something inside her snapped. She looked up at her husband. “I’m sorry to go against your wishes, Justin, but dolls are very important to little girls. Please, allow Sarah to keep this one. I will repair and clean it.” She was trembling. She drew a deep, steadying breath and waited for whatever was to come.
Justin stepped forward and made the silent child a polite bow. “I did not realize how much your doll meant to you, Sarah. You may keep her for as long as you wish. Do you understand?”
The toddler stared at him for a long moment, then nodded.
“Good. And you, Miss Brown…” Justin turned to the nurse. “Do you understand?”
“Perfectly, sir. It will be as you wish.”
“As my wife wishes.” Justin made the correction firmly, then turned to offer Elizabeth his hand. He frowned and helped her to her feet. “You needn’t look so astonished, Elizabeth. I’m not an ogre.”
“No. Of course not.” Sarah was to have her doll! Elizabeth gave Justin a delighted smile. “That was very kind of you, Justin—and ogres are never kind.”
“They’re not?”
“What?” She looked her puzzlement into his eyes. He gave a barely perceptible nod of his head in Sarah’s direction. Elizabeth sneaked a peek her way out of the corner of her eye—the toddler had stopped rocking her doll and was staring at them. Ogres! Of course! Elizabeth flashed Justin a look of understanding and followed his lead. “Why, no. Didn’t you know that ogres are never, never kind?” She glanced furtively around the room, leaned toward Justin and whispered loudly. “If they are ever kind they are thrown out of the ogre kingdom.”
“No!” Justin recoiled in dramatic shock. “I shall have to remember that.” His voice took on a dire tone. “I would not want to falsely accuse one of kindness.”
“Oh, no! Never!” Elizabeth gasped and clutched at her heart with both hands. “That would be insulting to an ogre. And ogres never forgive!”
“Never?”
“Never!” Elizabeth sneaked another peek at Sarah. Her little mouth was hanging open and her round, brown eyes were big as saucers.
“I see. And you, Elizabeth? If you were insulted by being wrongly accused, would you forgive?”
Elizabeth darted her gaze back to Justin. What was he doing? What had that to do with ogres? “I don’t—I mean— Yes. I suppose I would—as I’m not an ogress.”
“I’m pleased to hear that.” Justin’s gaze locked on hers. “I hope it means you will forgive me for the rash words I spoke earlier.”
Elizabeth stared at him. Was he still acting? What did he expect of her? “I—of course.”
“Good! Now…” Justin turned to the nanny. “Where is the baby, Miss Brown? Is she sleeping?”
“No, sir—here she is!”
The jolly voice came from behind them. Elizabeth turned. A solid looking woman with a merry face walked into the room carrying a squirming baby in her arms. She gave Elizabeth a warm smile. “Good day, madam.” Her gaze shifted to Justin. “Good day, sir. Blessings on you and your bride. May this nursery always be filled with your little ones.”
“Thank you, Delia.” Justin shot Elizabeth a warning look.
She smiled at the wet nurse. “How very kind of you.”
The woman returned Elizabeth’s smile and plodded into the room on slippered feet. “So, Sarah love—” She turned her merry brown gaze on the toddler quietly rocking her doll and gave her a cheerful smile. “Your new mama understands about dolls, eh?”
Elizabeth glanced at the wet nurse in surprise. So it was she who had rescued and returned Sarah’s doll to her. She could have hugged the woman!
A sharp, irate, squeal split the momentary silence and Elizabeth snapped her gaze to the infant in the woman’s arms. The baby had grabbed the ribbon tie on the front of her gown in one chubby little fist and was trying to raise it to her mouth. She gave another squeal of frustration and tugged harder, her apple cheeks turning pink with the effort. She kicked her little feet, opened her mouth wide to again express her displeasure when, suddenly, the connection between chubby fist and tiny mouth was made and she began, instead, to suck contentedly.
“Justin, she’s adorable!” Elizabeth laughed as the baby stopped squirming in the woman’s arms and gave her a wide, toothless smile. She glanced up at the wet nurse. “May I hold her? Or is she shy of strangers? I wouldn’t want to frighten her.”
“Well bless my soul, madam. You couldn’t frighten this little termagant if you tried!” The woman chuckled and pulled the now soggy ribbon from the baby’s little mouth causing a howl of protest. “Here now—that’s enough of that crying. What’s your new mama gonna think of such carryin’s on.” She glanced over at Elizabeth. “This one hasn’t learned yet that she can’t have it all her own way.” She padded across the room to place the baby in Elizabeth’s willing arms. “But she will. Won’t you, lovey?” She chucked the baby under her round little chin. The baby stopped crying, gave a small hiccough, and stared up at Elizabeth with her big, brown eyes.
For the second time in the space of a few minutes, Elizabeth’s heart melted. She lifted the infant to her shoulder, breathed in the soft, sweet, baby smell of her, and laughed with pure joy as the baby turned its face to hers and, planting her moist little mouth on her cheek, searched for a source of nourishment or comfort. She pulled away, but the baby only squirmed closer and intensified her search.
“What a determined little thing you are! But, alas, my small darling, you will find determination is not always the answer.” Elizabeth lowered the baby from her shoulder and smiled down at her as she brushed her fingertip lightly over her tiny, button nose and across one soft, rosy cheek. The infant opened her mouth and tried to follow and capture her trailing finger. Elizabeth laughed and hugged her. “I’m afraid I have nothing for you, precious. This is the one you seek.” Reluctantly, she handed the baby back to the wet nurse.
“Oh, Justin, she’s beautiful!” Elizabeth spun toward him. “Your children are both beautiful!” Her throat tightened. There was such sadness in his eyes! Quickly, she looked down at the floor. How thoughtless she was. She had not given a thought to how painful it must be for him to see her here with the children of his true wife—the woman that was lost to him forever. Her vision blurred with sudden tears. She was so distracted by the sudden, unexpected, glimpse of his pain she barely flinched when he took her arm and led her to the door.
“Your children are lovely.” Elizabeth glanced at Justin, then looked down at the pattern in the carpet runner. “I shall do my best to care for them and…and love them.”
“I’m certain you will.” Justin gave her a sidelong glance. “It was very astute of you to recognize Sarah’s deep attachment for her old doll.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “It was not astuteness on my part, it was—” She clamped her mouth closed on her words.
“Mr. Buffy?”
Elizabeth jerked her head up and gaped at him. “Yes…Mr. Buffy.” She turned her face away from his searching gaze. “My! What an interesting piece.” She gathered her skirts in her hands and moved quickly down the hall to admire a carved chest that stood between two windows. Anything to change the subject! She wanted no questions about Mr. Buffy, or her childhood.