A week before Mister Geddes Gordon, Gavin’s solicitor, arrived, Robbie learned about the letter from the mother of the infant girl. Gavin had ushered her into his office.
“This isn’t going to be easy, I don’t know how you will respond,” he began, handing her the missive.
Robbie read the letter, her heartbeat accelerating. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
Gavin gave her a soft smile. “Do you have to ask?”
“I’m not an invalid, Gavin.” Although she had to admit to herself she’d been acting like one.
“You were in pain, Robbie. I didn’t know if telling you earlier would make you feel worse. I’ve noticed that you don’t take part in the baby’s care, and I—”
“Don’t,” she said, interrupting him. “Up until now I didn’t know she would be part of the household. It’s not wise to become attached.”
“And now?”
Robbie smoothed her skirt, then rubbed her palms over it, as if trying to rid herself of something. “Are you telling me that just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers, “we’re going to raise a babe? What happens if the mother changes her mind, Gavin? What happens then?”
“I think it’s highly unlikely she’ll change her mind,” he said, although Robbie didn’t think he sounded convinced. “We’ll find out what we have to do when Mr. Gordon gets here.”
Robbie crossed to the window. The blackberry bramble was thickening with berries; Mrs. Murray would make jam. The hedgerows were still flowering. It was odd that no matter what drama happened in one’s life, things go on as they always have, as if nothing was amiss. “Is there no way to protect people from that happening?”
“I would say that in most cases, the family is relieved to be rid of the stigma.”
Robbie laughed, although there was no humor in it. “What is a stigma to one is a blessing to another, isn’t that what they say?”
“Are you saying it would be our blessing?” His voice held hope.
She paused. “‘Our blessing.’ You say it so matter-of-factly, Gavin.”
“Well, wouldn’t it be? A blessing?”
She turned to faced him, fighting tears. There was an ache in her throat so fierce she could hardly swallow. “How can I allow myself to become attached? The three of them, down there oohing and aahing, taking turns with her care as if she were here to stay, how easily they fell into the trap.”
“Robbie, if there is no law to protect the people who take the child in, surely there’s no law to protect the mother if she wants the baby back.”
Again, Robbie was close to tears. “But, she’s the mother. She will always be the mother to that child, even if she gives her away. And us? What would we be? Her caregivers? How can we become her parents if there is no way to protect us from the mother taking her back?”
“She has a name, Robbie,” Gavin said softly. “Her name is Alice.”
Robbie pressed her fingers to her eyes, hating herself for the way she felt. “I know; I know.”
“Would you rather her name was Ariadne?”
Robbie couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought Birdie wanted to name her Adrianna.”
“Either way, it doesn’t matter. She could, and probably will, become Alice Eliot.” He rose from the chair and went to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. She was still pale, and he realized she had lost weight. Under her flesh there was little meat and all bone. “I wish you wouldn’t worry so. I know it doesn’t do any good to tell you not to, but I truly want your happiness, Robbie. I truly do. And it isn’t as if I believe that having a baby to care for will heal your wound; I can’t begin to comprehend your pain, and you probably can’t explain it to me in a way I could understand.”
She leaned her head against his chest and let him envelop her. She loved the smell of him. “Does Birdie know about this turn of events?”
“Only you and Colin are aware of it.”
“She will have a fit, you know, although she doesn’t do any of the dirty work as it is.”
“Dirty work?” Gavin smiled and raised his eyebrows.
“You know, changing the clouts, rinsing and washing them.”
He was quiet for a while, then said, “I worry about her reaction.”
Robbie pulled away and looked up at him. “Why?”
“Over these past weeks I’ve noticed how completely she possesses something. Like your dog, taking it over as if it were her right to do so, then ignoring it when the babe came. And you might not believe it, but she also holds Colin in her grip, although he would say otherwise.”
“Birdie has always been like that, even when we were small.”
“I’ve been watching her around the babe. She’s almost fierce in her need to be close to her.”
“What are you saying? That Birdie will resent the fact that the baby was given to you, thus to me?”
He smoothed his fingers over the hair at her temples, sending a shiver through her. “You don’t think that’s possible?”
Robbie shook her head slowly, processing his words. “What could she possibly do about it? Oh, I know she’s difficult, but deep down I don’t think she’s any more devious than the rest of us. And even if you told her she could have Alice, which of course is absurd, I’m not sure what she’d do about it. Once the babe began walking and talking, she wouldn’t be the needy infant she is now, and Birdie would lose interest, just like she does with everything.”
He pulled her close again, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I hope you’re right. And honestly, Robbie, she is absolutely the last person I would trust Alice with for any length of time.”
• • •
The house was dark; everyone was asleep. Little Ariadne—or was it Adrianna?—it didn’t matter, she had just been fed not long before; Birdie almost hoped the she was awake so she could pick her up.
With a candle, Birdie left her apartment and stole quietly down the hallway to the door of the room they were using as a nursery. She opened the door slowly, and once she was inside, she left the door ajar so it wouldn’t make noise as it closed.
She couldn’t help herself; she had to take just a little glimpse at the wee one. Holding her candle in one hand, she stepped to the crib and peeked into it and watched her baby sleep. How beautiful she was!
Birdie had never felt such a rush of love for a living thing. Well, perhaps the pup at first, but when the babe arrived, she admitted the pup meant little to her.
She watched as the babe, Alice—although Adrianna or Ariadne were far more exotic, and maybe she could still convince the others—lifted her delicate cupid bow lips into a smile. Perhaps she was dreaming. Birdie wondered what in the world babies dreamt about when they didn’t know anything of the world yet.
Birdie hoped things stayed just as they were. She was quite certain the young mother had meant for Birdie to have her; why else had she given the bairn to her? She could have left her with anyone, but she chose Birdie.
Suddenly something brushed against her leg and startled her so, she almost dropped the candle. She turned away briefly, looked down, and saw Lady sniffing around. “Hush, you,” she whispered.
The dog barked, startling Birdie more, and she tried to get her to stop. “Be quiet!” she whispered loudly and nudged her with her foot.
At her response, the pup barked again, wagging its tail and jumping up on Birdie’s robe. The bairn began to cry, and Birdie whirled toward the crib, the candle teetering on the holder.
“Shhh, baby.” She tried to quiet the girl, but she continued to wail, the dog continued to bark, and suddenly something bright lit up the room.
Birdie gasped. The candle had fallen, hitting the curtains, and now they were on fire.
Birdie grabbed a blanket and tried to bat the flames out with it, but the blanket caught fire as well.
The door slammed open and hit the wall. “Fire! Fire! God have mercy!” Mrs. Murray raced to the crib, lifted the babe out, and rushed from the room.
Lydia, who had been in the kitchen and heard the commotion, came in as Mrs. Murray left, with Colin right behind her. Lydia dragged Birdie from the room and Colin pulled the flaming curtains from the window and threw them on the floor where he stomped on them until the fire was dead.
Everyone was awakened. They all sat in the breakfast room around the table. Mrs. Murray made tea, which the men laced with brandy. Lydia lifted her cup. “I’ll take a drop of that.”
Birdie sat with her arms crossed over her chest. She wouldn’t look at anyone.
Finally, Colin asked, “Tell me what happened, Birdie.”
Appeased by his gentle tone, Birdie told him she just wanted to look at the babe, then the dog came in and startled her. She didn’t realize the candle had fallen from the holder until she saw the curtains in flames. “It was an accident, surely you must know that,” she said to everyone at the table. “If it’s anyone’s fault, blame the dog.”
Lydia held the sleeping baby. Birdie looked at her with such angst, it actually made Robbie feel a little sorry for her.
“I guess this is as good a time as any to share the news I received a couple of weeks ago.” Gavin had their attention. He told them of the letter from Darla Dean.
Those who hadn’t been told beforehand sat, stunned.
Finally, Mrs. Murray said, “So the bairn is yers, then? We can keep her? And her name really is Alice?”
Lydia simply shook her head. “The Lord works in mysterious ways, doesn’t He?”
The only one who was quiet was Birdie. When she spoke, what she said surprised no one. “But Adrianna was given to me, specifically. The mother could have given her to anyone, even the woman who works at the coffeehouse. Or, if she came in on the coach, she could have left her with the innkeeper. She didn’t. She left her with me.”
“So, what are you saying, Birdie?” Robbie asked, knowing her sister well.
“Why should you get her? You’ve got everything I ever wanted right here in this house. You got the husband I was supposed to get. The luxurious living. The carriages, horses, clothes, jewels—all the things that should have been mine. So you lost a baby; you can have another, can’t you?” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“And what of Gavin? The child was put in his care. That’s in writing, Birdie. It outweighs your own wishes and desires.”
Robbie saw her sister’s eyes flicker around the room. Something she always did when she was processing things she didn’t like. Finally, she stood. “I suppose you’re right, although I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive you for taking my place here.”
When no one responded, Birdie flounced off to bed.
“Is the crib damaged?” Gavin asked once she’d left the room.
Colin shook his head. “The fire didn’t get beyond the window, but the floor is sooty and it will probably smell for a while.”
“We’ll put the little lamb in my room for now,” Mrs. Murray announced. Then, suddenly realizing the change in the status of the bairn, she added, “Unless ye want to keep her, mistress.”
Robbie pulled the edges of her dressing gown together, not realizing that it sent the message that she was closing herself off. “You’re familiar with the routine, Mrs. Murray. She’ll do very well with you.”
Mrs. Murray gave Gavin a worried look, then answered, “Fer now, I’d be happy tae.”
They all looked at one another.
“Do you think it’s safe to go back to bed?” Colin asked, only half kidding.
“If Miss Birdie wants tae take another glimpse of the bairn, she’ll have to go through me first,” Mrs. Murray said with fervor.