There began a routine a few weeks after the babe showed up, Robbie realized. At night when she couldn’t sleep, she heard the babe cry for a short while, and then either Lydia or Mrs. Murray would feed her and put her back to sleep.
During the day, all three women took turns feeding the infant, but Birdie refused to change her, expressing pure disgust and displeasure even at the thought of it. “At least the dog did her job outside. Most of the time,” she added under her breath.
Robbie had no interest in taking part. The little girl had enough people fawning over her. She had even seen both Colin and Gavin eyeing her, chucking her under her tiny chin and saying foolish things that no man would ever admit to uttering otherwise.
One day she even found Lady, paws up on the edge of the cradle, sniffing around the babe’s blanket. Still, Robbie had no desire to pick the babe up. In fact, the thought of it almost made her ill—not in a disgusting way, just a bit sick to her stomach.
She tried to write. Her first story was done, and she was afraid if she tried to do any rewriting, the whole thing would become a story with a sad ending. But she made notes for another story, realizing that even if she didn’t feel like it, she should at least try. It was something to do.
She moved through her days slowly and quietly, her pup at her side. Gavin had encouraged her to take a ride with him one morning, but she just didn’t feel like going out. She saw the pain in his eyes, and it made her ache as well, but what could she do about it? She felt what she felt; there was no other way to put it. Even a walk through the garden, which she always loved, did little to lift her spirits.
She did drop to the ground one day and pulled weeds with her bare hands. She got scolded by Mrs. Murray for it, and for soiling the front of her gown. Although it made more work for Mrs. Murray, something that Robbie insisted not be done, she made no move to apologize.
The fact that she hadn’t done so made her angry with herself, and she started to cry.
Damn! (Sorry, Papa). She hated how she felt, day after day, nothing changing. Colin had told her he thought it was natural for some women to go through this. Robbie wondered why it had to be her.
And still through it all, the baby routine continued.
• • •
Colin looked over the room design Gavin had drawn of the solarium, which would be converted into a clinic. “So it’s obvious to everyone that I need something more to do than coddle Birdie.”
Gavin studied him. “It was Lydia who came up with the idea. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made, but you had to be agreeable, or it would come to naught. And personally, I didn’t want to put a bunch of trees and plants in there; I’ve always believed they belong outside.”
Colin appeared reluctant.
“What’s on your mind?” Gavin asked.
Colin gave him a quick glance and nervously touched his face. “I’d be more likely to send patients away than see them.”
Gavin leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t see anyone running from you the night of the fire and explosion. We were so busy I don’t think even you remembered that your face was scarred.”
Colin nodded. “I guess I’m just a little hesitant to start seeing patients again. But then, having my baptism by fire out here in the country would probably be a good way to start.”
Gavin slapped his knee. “Excellent. I’ll get workmen on it immediately.”
• • •
Gavin visited both villages, Galashiels and Melrose, to gather information about able workmen for his new project. Before he returned home, he walked to the inn.
“Sir.” Eli Baker stood outside the inn and smiled when he saw Gavin. “I found that letter.” He went inside and retrieved it.
Gavin scanned the contents, his surprise sending waves of shock through his body.
He returned from Galashiels and found Colin outside smoking a cigar. “Put that thing out and come with me.”
Intrigued, Colin did as he was told.
Once in the library, Gavin handed him the letter.
“What’s this?”
“Read it,” Gavin instructed.
Colin unfolded the paper and read:
Mr. Eliot. Gavin.
I have no place else to turn. My parents threatened to give my bairn to a stranger, and I can’t stand the thought. She needs a good home; I know she will have it with you, as I learned that you recently married. And she would have to be kind, as you are the kindest person I know.
Alice is very sweet and good natured. She is healthy. Take good care of her. I won’t say outright who the father is, but perhaps you can guess. Don’t try to find me.
Very sincerely yours,
Darla Dean
Colin sat back and exhaled, the sound whooshing through the room. “My God.”
Gavin went to the sideboard and poured them each a small brandy. “Indeed.”
“Why did you just get this now?”
Gavin handed him a snifter. “Shortly after the fire, the innkeeper told me I had a letter, but when he went to find it, it was no where to be found. Today he flagged me down and said he’d found it.”
“So now you have a bairn.”
Gavin smothered a dry laugh. “It can’t be as easy as all that.”
“I’m no solicitor, but I’d say you should contact one and see what should be done. You might want to find out if there are any laws regarding such things before anything else happens.”
He studied Gavin further, then said, “Illegitimacy is a horrific pall when it hangs over a family. Samuel Dean was a successful, popular, very capable solicitor. I imagine the realization of what happened under his own roof had to be close to catastrophic. And I assume from the letter, that the nephew is the despicable goat who did this to her.”
“All the more reason to flee the country, I fancy,” Gavin mused.
“And if the family is at all superstitious, they might feel the bairn could bring them bad luck.”
“I should have noticed something,” Gavin said.
“Like what?”
“The lad was always hanging about when I gave Darla lessons. I thought perhaps he was interested in the subjects.” He laughed, but it was with neither wit nor humor.
“And what would you have done if you had come upon them together?”
“I would have been horrified, but knowing me, if Darla had begged me not to say anything, I just may have let the matter go. But not before taking the lad outside and tanning his backside.”
“And now you have a bairn,” Colin repeated.
“Something else to complicate my life. I have a wife who has no interest in the infant and a sister-in-law who wants to monopolize her.”
“I do think Robbie will come around one day. In the meantime, little Alice is in very capable hands.”
Gavin threw him a wry look.
“Well,” he amended, “at least four of the hands are capable.”
Gavin shook his head and walked to the window. The wind lifted the the leaves of the sycamores and swayed the tops of the Scots pines. Beyond, into the fields, clover blanketed the earth. There, a small herd of cattle grazed, their tales swishing lazily against the ever meddlesome midge. “I want to talk with my family’s solicitor back home. I sent him a letter this morning, enlightening him about the situation.”
“Will you travel there?”
“I’m hoping he will come here. I don’t want to leave Robbie any more than I must. I explained that to him as well.” He turned from the window. “In my naïvite I thought all women warmed to a baby, whether it be theirs or someone else’s.”
Colin shook his head. “I’ve encountered women who don’t even bond with their own bairns. It’s not common, but it happens.”
“I’ve never thought about how lucky I was to grow up where I did,” Gavin said. “Until I became an adult, I had no idea mothers might not bond with their own children. I really thought Robbie would change her mind about Alice.”
“As I’ve said, give her time. She loves you; she may surprise you.”
A slight pain jabbed at Gavin. “I know. I know. I just wish…”
“Good God, man, you’re not still mooning over Birdie, are you? After everything that has happened?”
“No. No, Birdie is a pretty, flighty, selfish little pea hen. It didn’t take me long to realize that once she showed up on my doorstep. More your speed, I’m thinking,” he added.
“I know she was revulsed when she first saw me. In fact, remember the night she stumbled into the library, looking for the dog? I swear she could see, at least some things, and I am pretty certain she got a close look at my face.”
“Why didn’t you mention anything?”
Colin shrugged and brushed dog hair from his trousers. “I wasn’t absolutely certain, but I did watch her closely after that, and because she could see, she knew when someone was about, so she continued with her charade.”
“You don’t mean to say she could see when she arrived here.”
“No, no, she had hysterical blindness. But upon hearing the fiasco of the proposal to the wrong sister, she apparently was shocked enough that it brought back her sight.”
“You should have said something to me sooner,” Gavin said.
“Why? It all came out not so long after that incident. Apparently Lydia had the same feeling that I did.”
“And now you’ve charmed and tamed the bird. What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t think I have enough wealth to keep a woman like Birdie happy,” Colin said, studying the carpet.
“Starting up your practice again will help,” Gavin suggested.
Colin’s head came up. “As much as I’d love to stay in the country and treat the rustics, I fear being paid in goat cheese and sheep’s wool wouldn’t keep Birdie happy.”
“But you will split your time between Edinburgh and here. That way we get to see you regularly, and you could still have your lucrative practice in the city.”
“And Birdie isn’t quite your country house lassie, we know that without a doubt; she would love the townhouse, and Eve is a natural caregiver.”
“There. See? We’ve solved your problem.”
“Yes, now all we need to do is convince Birdie to marry me.” Colin’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Suddenly Gavin became very serious. “Are you certain that’s what you want? To marry Birdie?”
“It would take her off your hands, wouldn’t it?”
Gavin shook his head. “Be serious, man. Remember, marriage is supposed to be for the rest of your life. Could you really be happy with a woman who has a temperament like hers?”
“Perhaps you couldn’t; you’ve said before you don’t want too much drama in your life. But, I tell you, the moment I saw her I was bewitched.”
“I remember you telling me I had basically made the best mistake of my life.”
“That was before I saw her,” Colin answered. “And I’m grateful—thank you,” he added with a smile.