Lady Sophie's Christmas Wish by Grace Burrowes Page A

one finger from the corner of her eye to her temple. “Never?”
    She turned her head toward him so his hand ended up trapped under her cheek. He did not retrieve it.
    â€œI’m in charge of strays.” She spoke evenly, the tears still kept sternly from her voice. “All of my life, I was the one who could be counted on to nurse a rejected lamb, to find a litter to accept an orphaned kitten. Joleen went astray, so she became my charge to deal with. She should not have left Kit this way.”
    â€œMaybe she should not have had Kit, and this was the only way she could cope. How old was she?”
    â€œSixteen.”
    â€œOld enough to know better, Sophie.” He ran his thumb over the smooth skin of her cheekbone and withdrew his hand. The gesture had been meant to comfort her; it had in fact comforted him.
    â€œTake the baby.” He lifted Kit high again. “He’s in fine fettle, ready to conquer the world.”
    She glanced at Vim as if she suspected his suggestion was a tactic, which it was, but she took the child and cradled him on her sternum. “He is quite stout, isn’t he?”
    â€œHe’s just right for a man of his years, or months.”
    â€œAnd what shall I do with him now that I have him?”
    â€œThat’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Vim lay on his side, his head propped on a fist braced by his elbow. “You see the uncertainty Joleen introduced into his life with her decision, and responsibility for this stray is daunting.”
    She lifted the baby up, touched noses with him, and set the child back on her middle. “Daunting about sums it up. He could crawl into the fire, take a chill, pull the bookends down on himself… all in the space of moments. His life should last decades, but only if I can keep him safe and teach him how to go on.”
    â€œYou could foster him.” Vim watched as Sophie stroked a finger down the baby’s cheek. The child turned to investigate the sensation while Sophie repeated the caress on the other cheek.
    â€œI should foster him. I should find some nice lady with an infant of her own and pay handsomely for Kit to have lots of love and attention, other children to play with…” She closed her eyes again, a gesture Vim realized was Sophie’s way of composing herself.
    â€œSophie, he’s old enough to be weaned, if needs must.”
    â€œIs he? I don’t even know when that would be. I’ve seen children larger than Vim still…” She fell silent and blinked at the baby.
    â€œAt the breast.” Vim finished the thought for her.
    â€œI was going to say dependent on their mothers. Nanny Fran said Joleen never had much milk. She said the girl was too fretful to nurse properly.”
    â€œI suppose that’s possible. A fretful mare sometimes lacks enough for her foal. Kit looks healthy nonetheless.”
    â€œHe does.” She frowned at the child and tried lifting him up over her chest. When she had him positioned on straight arms above her, he started wiggling and paddling again. A slight smile bloomed on Sophie’s mouth, just as the child emitted a particular… sound.
    â€œOh, dear.” She lowered him gingerly. “I believe it’s time I learned to change a nappy myself.”
    â€œHave we a clean supply?”
    â€œIn the laundry. I can get…” She started to rise, but Vim put a hand on her shoulder as he shifted to a crouch.
    â€œYou stay. I’ll fetch the goods.” He didn’t give her time to argue, but rather was out the door in no time, a single candle in his hand. Yes, it was important to retrieve what the baby needed for his hygiene, but it had also become important to get off of that floor and away from the woman lying on her back before the fire.
    She cried for stray babies and probably for the stray mother too. If Vim did not mind the dictates of common sense, he’d be tucking himself