one.”
Outside, Bridget reached out and hugged Heather fiercely. “Miss Heather, I pray nightly that this babe will be a girl! For if it is, I’vealready told Robert we’ll name it after you—she’ll be called Heather, and I hope she’ll grow to be as kind and generous as you!”
Heather blinked in surprise. “You’d name your daughter after me? Really?” Her soft mouth curved into a smile. “I’d like that, Bridget. I’d like that very much.” She leaned forward and kissed the other woman’s cheek. Damien could have sworn there was a sheen of tears in those brilliant violet eyes.
She was still smiling when she turned from the lane several minutes later. Damien tipped his head to the side and looked at her. “Bridget works at the manor house?”
Heather nodded. “She’s worked as an upstairs maid for nearly four years now. But she’s due in less than two months, and last week it simply became too much for her.”
He continued to study her. “Are you a midwife?”
She seemed embarrassed. “Oh, no! Though I’ve assisted at a number of births alongside the midwife. She lives in the village just north of here.” Her eyes seemed to turn cloudy. “I only hope she’s able to come when Bridget delivers.”
Damien raised a brow. “She trusts you,” he commented quietly. “Somehow I almost think she’d prefer that you attend her.”
Heather’s expression was troubled. “Nearly twenty years they’ve waited for a babe, and none to come until now. Bridget was certain she was barren. Unfortunately, it’s been a difficult pregnancy. She belongs in the midwife’s capable hands, not mine.” She smiled slightly. “Youshould have seen Bridget when she learned she was with child. I swear everyone in the neighboring shire heard her shriek with happiness. I fancy this babe will be spoilt as no other.”
As if on cue, there indeed came an excited cry from behind the curricle. Damien twisted around to see two small figures on horseback racing down the road toward them.
“Heather!”
“Heather, wait!”
Heather had turned as well. Raising a hand to her brow, she shielded her eyes against the sun’s glare. “It’s my brother and sister,” she said. Both surprise and pleasure laced her voice. “There’s Mama,” she murmured. “Oh, and Beatrice.” She pointed to where two figures had just come over the rise in the road. “Another sister,” she added. Snapping the reins, she turned the curricle around to await them.
The children halted amidst a cloud of dust—a boy and a girl. They were young, he saw. The girl was perhaps thirteen or so. He judged the boy to be eight or nine years of age. Since he’d already alighted from the curricle, he stepped forward to help them from their mounts.
The girl, a pale blonde with an elfish face, thanked him shyly, then spun toward the curricle. The boy flashed a wide, unabashed smile and did the same. By the time he turned, they had both flanked Heather on the seat.
“You haven’t visited in days,” the girl was saying. “We’ve missed you, Heather.”
Heather gave her a quick hug. “You could have come to visit me,” she teased.
“We were,” the girl said promptly.
Just then the boy piped up. He stabbed a finger at Damien. “Who are you?” he asked cheerfully. “Are you Heather’s beau? Mama says she should have a beau.”
Two spots of rose immediately flared high and bright in Heather’s cheeks. Damien found himself possessed of the oddest urge to chuckle. Instead he came to her rescue.
He clicked his heels and gave a mock salute. “Damien Lewis at your service, young sir. I am your sister’s new estate manager.”
Heather had slipped her arms around the youngsters. “My sister Christina, Mr. Lewis, and my brother, Arthur—who has apparently forgotten that he does have the good manners not to point.”
“And I,” a sweet feminine voice chimed in, “am Heather’s mother, Victoria Grayson. And this is my daughter Beatrice.”
Outside, Bridget reached out and hugged Heather fiercely. “Miss Heather, I pray nightly that this babe will be a girl! For if it is, I’vealready told Robert we’ll name it after you—she’ll be called Heather, and I hope she’ll grow to be as kind and generous as you!”
Heather blinked in surprise. “You’d name your daughter after me? Really?” Her soft mouth curved into a smile. “I’d like that, Bridget. I’d like that very much.” She leaned forward and kissed the other woman’s cheek. Damien could have sworn there was a sheen of tears in those brilliant violet eyes.
She was still smiling when she turned from the lane several minutes later. Damien tipped his head to the side and looked at her. “Bridget works at the manor house?”
Heather nodded. “She’s worked as an upstairs maid for nearly four years now. But she’s due in less than two months, and last week it simply became too much for her.”
He continued to study her. “Are you a midwife?”
She seemed embarrassed. “Oh, no! Though I’ve assisted at a number of births alongside the midwife. She lives in the village just north of here.” Her eyes seemed to turn cloudy. “I only hope she’s able to come when Bridget delivers.”
Damien raised a brow. “She trusts you,” he commented quietly. “Somehow I almost think she’d prefer that you attend her.”
Heather’s expression was troubled. “Nearly twenty years they’ve waited for a babe, and none to come until now. Bridget was certain she was barren. Unfortunately, it’s been a difficult pregnancy. She belongs in the midwife’s capable hands, not mine.” She smiled slightly. “Youshould have seen Bridget when she learned she was with child. I swear everyone in the neighboring shire heard her shriek with happiness. I fancy this babe will be spoilt as no other.”
As if on cue, there indeed came an excited cry from behind the curricle. Damien twisted around to see two small figures on horseback racing down the road toward them.
“Heather!”
“Heather, wait!”
Heather had turned as well. Raising a hand to her brow, she shielded her eyes against the sun’s glare. “It’s my brother and sister,” she said. Both surprise and pleasure laced her voice. “There’s Mama,” she murmured. “Oh, and Beatrice.” She pointed to where two figures had just come over the rise in the road. “Another sister,” she added. Snapping the reins, she turned the curricle around to await them.
The children halted amidst a cloud of dust—a boy and a girl. They were young, he saw. The girl was perhaps thirteen or so. He judged the boy to be eight or nine years of age. Since he’d already alighted from the curricle, he stepped forward to help them from their mounts.
The girl, a pale blonde with an elfish face, thanked him shyly, then spun toward the curricle. The boy flashed a wide, unabashed smile and did the same. By the time he turned, they had both flanked Heather on the seat.
“You haven’t visited in days,” the girl was saying. “We’ve missed you, Heather.”
Heather gave her a quick hug. “You could have come to visit me,” she teased.
“We were,” the girl said promptly.
Just then the boy piped up. He stabbed a finger at Damien. “Who are you?” he asked cheerfully. “Are you Heather’s beau? Mama says she should have a beau.”
Two spots of rose immediately flared high and bright in Heather’s cheeks. Damien found himself possessed of the oddest urge to chuckle. Instead he came to her rescue.
He clicked his heels and gave a mock salute. “Damien Lewis at your service, young sir. I am your sister’s new estate manager.”
Heather had slipped her arms around the youngsters. “My sister Christina, Mr. Lewis, and my brother, Arthur—who has apparently forgotten that he does have the good manners not to point.”
“And I,” a sweet feminine voice chimed in, “am Heather’s mother, Victoria Grayson. And this is my daughter Beatrice.”
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