“Why, Sarah!” Abigail Twiggs leaned her walking stick against the railing and reached out to take the offered bouquet. “What lovely flowers.” She fixed a stern look upon the smiling three-year-old. “Did Webber say you might pick them?”
The toddler nodded.
“Then, I thank you very much.” Abigail’s face creased into a delighted smile as Sarah bobbed a quick curtsy and skipped away.
Elizabeth’s heart swelled with maternal pride. She watched for a moment as Sarah ran across the green lawn to join the gardener, then gave Abigail a rueful smile and went back to trying to extricate a crushed flower from Mary’s clenched fist.
“You might rescue that one, Elizabeth, but I fear it’s too late for the one in her mouth.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth snatched hold of the bit of stem protruding from the baby’s mouth and with her other hand tickled Mary’s tummy. She pulled the flower free as the baby began to laugh, then tossed it over the railing and gave Mary a comforting hug as she began to howl her displeasure. “It’s all right, precious.”
Elizabeth settled the baby on her lap, moved her knees slightly so that the teacup on the table beside her was out of Mary’s reach, and offered her a spoon. The baby grabbed for the shiny object with her pudgy hands. Elizabeth smiled and picked up the crushed flower that fell from Mary’s opened fist.
“Very clever.”
Elizabeth lifted her head and met Abigail’s amused gaze. “Another crisis dealt with. Does it ever stop?” She laughed and tossed the flower away.
Abigail chuckled. “I’m afraid not. It changes—but it never stops.”
“Oh, dear.” Elizabeth dodged the wildly waving spoon. “I hope I prove adequate.”
“There’s no doubt of that. You’re a wonderful mother to these little ones. And the Lord knows they needed one.”
“I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth lifted the baby to her shoulder to stop her from drumming on the chair arm with the spoon. She gave the older woman a rueful smile. “I couldn’t hear you above the noise.”
“I shouldn’t wonder. I said—” Abigail leaned forward, snatched the spoon from the baby’s grasp and popped a bit of sugar into her mouth when Mary opened it to howl her protest “—you are a wonderful mother to these children. To Sarah especially.” She leaned back in her chair and eyed the happily sucking baby with smug satisfaction. “There is an astonishing difference in her since you came.”
“Do you truly believe so?”
“I truly do.”
“Thank you, Abigail.” Elizabeth smiled at the elderly woman, then shifted her gaze to Sarah. “I do so want to help her. But it’s difficult to know what is best for her. She’s such a…a delicate little girl.” She sighed. “Anyway, you’re very kind.”
“Nonsense.” Abigail gave an unladylike snort. “I haven’t a kind bone in my body.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You’re a dear, and you know it.” She sobered as she watched Sarah run toward them. “If only Sarah would talk, Abigail. I’ve tried everything I can think of to encourage her.” She looked across the table at the elderly woman who had become a dear friend. “I’m certain she could, if she would only try.”
“Perhaps she will in time, dear.”
“Yes. Perhaps in time.” Elizabeth repeated the words softly, then shrugged off the suddenly serious mood and smiled across the table. “Would you care for more tea, Abigail? Or perhaps— Ouch!” Elizabeth stared down at the ivory hair comb gripped tightly in Mary’s tiny, pudgy hands.
“Oh, Mary. Look what you’ve done!” Elizabeth grasped one of the curls that had tumbled onto her shoulders when freed of the constraining comb and tickled the baby’s cheek with it. “What a little troublemaker you are!” Mary gave her a semitoothless grin and waved her hands in the air. Elizabeth laughed, lifted the gurgling baby into the air, and covered her little face with kisses. An insistent tug on her skirt stopped the playful interlude. She looked down at Sarah.
“What is it, precious?”
Sarah pointed.
Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat—Justin was coming down the path to the pavilion. Her gaze met his over the distance and she forgot to breathe when he smiled at her. Would she ever get over this desire to rush into his arms every time she saw him? She sighed and turned her attention back to the problem at hand—her hair.
Thankful Justin was too far away to see her disheveled appearance, Elizabeth freed one hand and searched in her lap for her hair comb. It wasn’t there. She bit her lower lip in consternation, then, almost cried aloud when she spotted the comb still clasped tightly in Mary’s pudgy hand. Now, what was she to do? The sound of Justin’s footsteps climbing the pavilion stairs gave Elizabeth her answer. She could do nothing—it was too late. She cast a last, longing look at the comb and smiled a greeting. “Good afternoon.”
No answer. Justin simply looked at her. Elizabeth’s cheeks warmed. “Forgive my appearance. Mary pulled the comb from my hair and—well—you know how she is at giving things up.” She tried to balance the baby with one hand and gather her hair with the other.
“Leave it.” Justin’s voice came out husky and ragged. He cleared his throat, placed the basket he was carrying on the floor at his feet, then, looked back at Elizabeth. “It doesn’t matter that your hair is down, Elizabeth. I don’t mind.” He scowled at the muffled snort that came from beside him and turned to glare at Abigail.
She gave him a sweet smile. A patently phony sweet smile.
Justin burst into laughter. He leaned down, kissed Abigail’s dry, wrinkled cheek, then crouched down by the basket at his feet. He smiled at the toddler standing by Elizabeth’s knee. “We have a present for you, Sarah. Would you like to see it?”
The little girl clapped her hands and nodded.
Justin gave Elizabeth a conspiratorial wink and lifted the lid off the basket. For a moment nothing happened, then, furious scrabbling sounds issued forth and the basket began to rock back and forth precariously. A round black ball of fur with a red tongue and a white tip on a fluffy upright tail scrambled over the basket rim and fell with a yelp to the floor at Sarah’s feet. The puppy righted himself, shook himself vigorously—which made him lose his balance again—tipped his head to one side, gave two sharp yips and attacked Sarah’s shoe.
The little girl stared wide-eyed as the puppy growled, lunged, backed away, and then repeated the process. She glanced up at Elizabeth and Justin, then dropped to her knees on the floor and giggled as the puppy, wagging his tail furiously, leaped up to bestow rough wet kisses on her face. He wiggled with joy when Justin scooped him up and placed him in Sarah’s arms, and set at once to licking her small ear with his tiny tongue. Sarah giggled and hugged him tight.
Elizabeth’s eyes blurred with happy tears, but she dared not wipe them away, for she, too, had a squealing, wiggling bundle on her lap. Clearly, Mary wanted the puppy.
“Let me have her.” Justin’s deep voice cut through the squeals and giggles as he lifted the baby from Elizabeth’s lap. “This one is getting to be quite a handful.” He grinned and took a firmer hold on Mary as she twisted about to try and reach the puppy.
“I know—especially when she’s excited.” Elizabeth laughed as Mary tried to fling herself backward, only to find a large, strong hand waiting to catch her. For a moment the baby struggled against Justin’s hold, then, acknowledging defeat, she contented herself with chewing on the snowy white cravat at her jailer’s throat. Justin gave Elizabeth a rueful grin, and nodded toward Sarah and the puppy.
“She seems to like him.” There was relief in his voice. “She’s so timid, I thought perhaps he might frighten her.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I was concerned about that, too.” She looked down at Sarah who was giggling happily while the puppy licked her neck, and her heart swelled. How good it was to hear her laugh! Surely, if she could laugh, she could talk.
“I believe you’re about to be rescued, Justin.”
Elizabeth glanced over at Abigail who waved a hand forward directing her gaze to the sturdy figure of Nurse Hammerfield who was making her way toward the pavilion. A sudden squeal of joy from Sarah drew her attention back. Elizabeth smiled. It was wonderful to see the child running and playing—to hear her laughing and squealing. Surely she could talk. Surely she could. She blinked back a rush of tears and closed her eyes. Dear God, please help Sarah talk.
Mary gurgled. Elizabeth opened her eyes and watched Justin hand the baby to the nurse, then squat to rescue Sarah’s hem from the puppy’s sharp little teeth. She smiled and stepped forward. “I think we might bend the rules and allow Sarah to play a little longer, Anna. She’s having such a good time I hate to stop it. I’ll bring her in a little later for her nap.”
“Very good, madam.” The nurse smiled as she looked down at Sarah’s beaming face. “There are some things more important than rules, or sleep—but not for this one.” She settled the baby more comfortably in her arms and started down the stairs. “This one needs her rest.”
Elizabeth smiled as Mary snuggled contentedly against the nurse’s ample bosom and closed her eyes. The baby would be asleep before they reached the house.
“Hold still!”
Elizabeth turned. Justin was attempting to free Sarah’s dress from the wriggling, snarling puppy. “Do you need help?”
He glanced up and shook his head. “No, I think I’ve got it.” He released the hem and watched with a crooked grin as Sarah ran around the pavilion with the puppy in hot pursuit. “At least for the moment.” He dropped into the chair beside the one Elizabeth had taken and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “That little beast could prove costly. There’s a tear in her dress.”
“Trudy will mend— Oh, look!” Elizabeth laughed as the puppy gave up the chase, dropped to the floor and fell fast asleep. Sarah stopped running, looked at the sleeping puppy for a moment, then ran back, plopped down on the floor and tugged him onto her lap. Elizabeth’s heart melted. Sarah looked so sweet, so little, sitting there patting the puppy’s soft fur with her small hand—
“Ummm, you’re right, Abigail.”
“Right?” Elizabeth came out of her reverie. “I seem to have missed something. What is Abigail right about?”
Justin glanced over at her. “Abigail was just saying that yon beasty requires a name.” He nodded toward the sleeping puppy, then looked back at her. “Have you a suggestion?”
“Well…” Elizabeth pursed her lips and studied the puppy. “His appearance would suggest Blackie—or perhaps, Tippy.”
Abigail nodded. “And his character suggests Scamp.”
“Or Destroyer.” Justin looked askance at the puppy who had awakened from his brief snooze and was now chewing contentedly on Sarah’s sleeve.
Elizabeth laughed. Justin looked at her. Their gazes locked. Held. Heat climbed into her cheeks. She looked down at her hands. “Perhaps his name should be…Happy.”
“Mithter Buffy.”
Elizabeth’s heart stopped. For that small space of time in which she, Justin and Abigail stared at each other in disbelief, her heart stopped beating. It started again when they each swiveled their heads and stared at the toddler in utter astonishment.
Sarah looked up at them with complete equanimity, and repeated the name carefully. “Mithter Buffy.”
It took Justin a moment, but he was the first to recover. He cleared his throat, handed his handkerchief to Elizabeth, and rose from his chair to go and squat down in front of Sarah. “An excellent choice, Sarah. Mr. Buffy, it is.” He cleared his throat again.
Sarah beamed at him and held up her arms.
Justin’s chest tightened. It was the first time she had ever done more than smile timidly at him. He laid the puppy in the basket and lifted Sarah into his arms, totally unprepared for the rush of paternal love that filled him when her little arms circled his neck and squeezed. His child. Not his ward—his child. Dear heaven, he had missed so much!
Justin laid his cheek against Sarah’s fine, soft, brown hair and tears stung his eyes. He tightened his arms protectively around her small body and swallowed hard when her head dropped down onto his shoulder. He held her gently, marveling at the incredible feel of her in his arms. Her soft, warm breath blew across his neck in a long, contented sigh and she went limp. He glanced down. She was fast asleep.
“I think she’s had enough excitement for now, Justin. Will you take her in for her nap?” Elizabeth’s voice was choked with emotion.
Justin nodded. He tightened his grip on Sarah, walked down the stairs and started up the brick path toward the house.
Elizabeth stood at the railing and watched the man she loved carrying the small child she considered her own. Her heart swelled until she was sure it would burst. The pain in her chest was so intense she couldn’t breathe, but she couldn’t succumb to the temptation to ease the pressure with tears. Abigail was watching her, and no one must know. No one must know. Elizabeth used the thought to battle the terrible ache in her heart.
“Are you all right, dear?”
“Why of course, Abigail. Why shouldn’t I be?” Elizabeth fastened a bright smile on her face, turned, and met the sympathetic gaze of the older woman. Her throat closed. She blinked rapidly, walked over to the basket, lifted the sleeping puppy into her arms and stroked his smooth, soft fur. After a few moments she felt sufficiently in command of her emotions to turn and join Abigail at the table. She stooped to pick up the puppy’s basket and gave a soft exclamation of surprise. Her hair comb was under the chair she had occupied earlier.
“Well, imagine that.” She picked up the carved ivory hair comb, seated herself and laid it on the table. “Mary let go of my comb after all. It seems to be a day for miracles.” She glanced over at Abigail and smiled, then buried her face in the puppy’s soft, black fur and burst into tears.