Robbie noticed that Birdie began taking the small chaise into the village a couple of times a week, which was unusual because never before had Birdie dared leave the house on her own. She had been reluctant to leave Alice for any length of time and no one allowed her to take the child with her.
Robbie asked her about her trips one day when Birdie had returned.
Offended, Birdie responded, “I’m going stir crazy around here. I don’t understand how people can live in the country and never long to return to Edinburgh and the parties and the gala affairs.”
“But, what do you do in the village?”
Birdie looked away. “Oh, I look at material and patterns that have come in from Paris. The owner and I talk about fashion; she’s really quite educated on the subject.”
“You mean for someone who lives out in the provinces.”
“Exactly,” Birdie answered, unaware of the slight.
“I would think there would be only so much fabric and patterns you can look at before you’ve seen it all.”
Birdie gave her sister a sidelong glance. “Of course you would think that; you have absolutely no fashion sense at all. But look.” She brought out a package from her satchel. “I found this adorable dress for Ariadne.”
“I thought you called her Adrianna.”
“Ariadne, Adrianna, either name is preferable to Alice.” She made a face, then presented a dress big enough to hold three babies.
Although it was a lovely pink satin and lace frock, it wasn’t one bit serviceable. Robbie raised an eyebrow. “When do you think she’ll be old enough to wear it?”
Birdie brushed the question away. “I know it’s too big, but when I saw it, I knew I had to have it.”
Again, Robbie wondered if Gavin even knew that Birdie was putting items on his accounts.
• • •
Later, after dinner, Robbie went into the library and found her husband dandling Alice on his knee. She stepped back into the shadows to watch.
He was singing softly to her, a tune that she had heard so many years ago, from her nanny.
Gee up on the horse.
The horse going to vallay.
The high tide will catch us,
It will catch us by the legs.
It will catch us by the head.
Gee up on the horse.
The horse going to vallay.
Robbie hadn’t thought of that ditty in years, and now, hearing the words, wondered at how soothing it would be if the babe could understand them. The tune is what she always remembered—a lilting, sad little melody.
Gavin stopped bouncing Alice and brought her to his chest. “Ah, little Alice, you are a sweet little babe, aren’t you?”
Alice pulled away and grabbed Gavin’s nose. He snorted like a pig, making her laugh. Such a sweet sound it was, a bairn’s laughter. Robbie blinked away the sting in her eyes. Would she never stop bawling?
Suddenly Gavin pressed his face into Alice’s tummy and made sputtering noises, causing Alice to squeal with laughter and grab at Gavin’s hair.
Lady Perlina darted past Robbie into the room, pushing her nose against Gavin’s leg. Alice’s arm dangled close by, and the dog licked it repeatedly.
“So you like Alice, do you?” Gavin asked the dog. “I do as well.”
A sharp feeling stabbed at Robbie’s chest. Could she do this? Could she be a mother to a child that was not hers? Alice would have a good life with them, Robbie knew that.
“Robbie?”
The sound of her name startled her.
She came forward. “I didn’t want to disturb you; you are so good with her.”
His expression was pained. “Will you not hold her, Robbie?”
She took a few hesitant steps toward her husband. At that moment, Alice saw her and she beamed, holding her arms out for Robbie to take her.
Robbie was stunned. “I…I don’t think—”
Gavin stood with Alice in his arms. “Don’t think, Robbie, feel. Just feel.” He lifted the child toward her.
With excited hesitancy, Robbie took Alice and automatically returned her smile. “Well, hello, Alice.” She glanced at Gavin, whose eyes looked misty. “With everyone else taking such good care of her, I just didn’t think—”
“There you go, wife, thinking again.”
She snuggled Alice against her chest, breathing in the sweet baby smell of her, touching her fine, feathery hair, feeling her smooth cheek against to her own. Tears finally spilled. “Oh, Gavin, I don’t know what to say, how to apologize for my behavior these past weeks.”
Gavin encircled her and Alice with his arms. “Then you think we might be a family, the three of us?”
Robbie felt a pull at her skirt. “I think there will be four of us,” she corrected, as Lady Perlina urged herself closer to the threesome.
Gavin pulled away briefly. “I have a surprise for you.” He went to his desk and retrieved a letter, handing it to Robbie after he took Alice.
Curious, she took it. “But it’s addressed to you.”
“I think you’ll find the contents to your liking.”
Frowning, she opened the letter and read the message. Her head came up, and she nearly gasped. “They want to publish my little book? How did they get it?”
Slightly embarrassed, Gavin replied, “I found it on the floor one day and read it. It’s a very good story, Robbie. It has all of the things youngsters enjoy: humor, animals, and…birds who get their comeuppance.”
Robbie read the letter again. “But what about pictures? It must have pictures in it.”
“My friend at the publishing house said they would have their artist do them and send them on to make sure you approved.”
She dropped the letter and put her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, Gavin, this is the most exciting thing!”
“And they want more of your stories, Robbie.”
“My dream.” She sniffed and smiled through her happy tears. “I can’t wait to get started on another.”
• • •
Everyone was delighted that Robbie had apparently overcome most of her downheartedness, and they were equally excited about the sale of her book. She took part in Alice’s care, still regarding the others as part of the baby’s “team.” But whenever possible, she took Alice with her into her quiet room, sat with her in the rocking chair, and told her stories until she fell asleep. Her own stories, of course, anxious for the day Alice could read them for herself. Like the others, she was reluctant to put her down to nap, eagerly enjoying the moments she held Alice close to her heart.
One fine autumn day she bundled Alice up in her bunting, wore her warmest hat and cloak, and took the baby outside.
Mrs. Murray stopped her. “Don’t ye want the perambulator?”
Robbie shook her head. “I want to hold her. I want her close to me. We’ll be fine.” They stepped outside and Robbie pulled in a deep breath of cool, fresh air. Alice was staring up at her.
“You know,” Robbie began, “the first time I came here the air was so fresh I nearly fainted from the pleasure of it. And it still affects me that way.” She grinned at her daughter. “Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart, I wouldn’t dare faint with you in my arms.”
Alice gurgled, blowing a spit bubble.
“One of the first things I remember were the gardens. Oh, Alice, I can’t wait until you are old enough to see the gardens in full bloom! We’ll pick some flowers, of course we will. And you’ll help me weed the garden beds, won’t you?”
Alice made a sputtering noise.
“No? You don’t want to get your pretty frock dirty?” Robbie clucked her tongue. “Now you sound more like your Aunt Birdie.”
As they walked the path toward the stable, Robbie realized that Birdie’s reaction to all of this surprised her. She had expected the same old rants about Robbie already having what should have been hers. She wasn’t particularly exuberant about it, but she was pleasant enough, for Birdie.
Ben appeared at the stable door and when he saw Robbie he hurried over and peeked at her charge. “So this be the wee lassie? She be quite a bonny one for certain.”
“Yes, Ben, she certainly is bonny.” Even though Robbie didn’t want to end this little stroll, her arms grew tired, and she bade Ben goodbye and reluctantly returned to the house.
• • •
One evening, when Gavin and Robbie had taken Alice out for an evening stroll, Lydia, who was mending a quilt, asked Birdie if she had finally come to terms with the fact that her sister’s life was not hers to envy.
Birdie put down Jane Eyre, which Colin had begun reading to her before her sight returned. She traced her fingers over the cover and studied Lydia. “I suppose everyone expected me to create a scene.”
Lydia never minced words, especially with Birdie. “Yes, I do indeed think everyone expected that.”
Birdie plucked at her skirt. “Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe I’ve come to the realization that Adelaide will never be mine.”
“I thought her name was Adrianna.”
Birdie shrugged. “Adelaide, Adrianna, Ariadne, what does it matter now?”
“If you truly believe what you’re saying, you’ve come far.”
Birdie gave her a stern look. “Everyone can change, even me.”
On a smile, Lydia replied, “Yes, I suppose even you.”
Birdie tossed the book on the settee and stomped from the room.
When she learned that Robbie had taken to the baby, she had nearly climbed out of her skin she was so upset. She watched her sister, envy and anger boiling through her veins. Then, because she could stand it no longer, she formulated her plan.