She held up the little lad. “Robin thought I was in need of cheering. We must take him to the bank and then”—she waved her hand toward the stack of invitations on her desk—“we have the errands for him to run.”
“We’ll do the errands tomorrow. What are the arrangements for today?”
She knew he was referring to her going to get their daughter. “I sent a missive to Neville with James yesterday evening instructing my brother to lend him a carriage today. He’ll be arriving at eleven.”
“All right. I’m going to run young Robin to the bank, see him safely to Gillie’s. Don’t leave before I return.”
His words surprised her. “Are you going with me?”
“If you have no objection.”
She shook her head. “You have as much right to be with her as I do.”
“All right, then. Come on, Robin, let’s go make you a rich lad.”
“I’ll find a box for the kitten while you’re away,” she said, feeling a strong need to say something, to convey that she was glad he was coming with her without actually telling him how relieved she was.
He gave a little nod while he ushered Robin from the room. As he disappeared from sight, her heart gave a little lurch. How was it that in acquiring what she’d longed to have for seven years, she felt she was losing so much more?
Not a word was spoken as her brother’s carriage carried them to Watford, which only caused her nerves to tauten. Finn and James sat opposite her, both looking as though they were on their way to a funeral. It should be a day of rejoicing, a journey toward happiness, yet worry began to take hold. She wanted to ask James a hundred questions.
What was her daughter’s name? What did she look like? What did she like to do? What made her laugh? Did she eat her vegetables?
She’d almost brought the kitten with her, to bring her comfort, to remind her that while Finn might be put out with her, Robin still very much liked her. She rather regretted having not gone to the bank with them. She imagined he’d been quite the young gentleman opening up his account. It would have been placed under Finn’s care, Robin being so young, but she knew it was safe with him and he’d guide the lad in how best to make the funds work for him.
The carriage came to a stop in front of a small quaint cottage on the outskirts of the town.
“What does your brother-by-marriage do, James?” Lavinia asked.
“He’s a cabinetmaker. Makes a good living at it. Fanny has never had to do without.”
“Fanny?”
“My sister.”
“Of course.” She hadn’t thought to ask for any of their names, perhaps because she was hesitant to make them real.
James alighted, then handed her down. Finn followed them out.
She clasped her hands in front of her, suddenly not certain she really wanted to be here, as James opened the gate of the white picket fence.
Finn placed his hand on the small of her back. “I’m here.”
She looked up at him, holding his brown gaze, so grateful he was. “I didn’t expect to be so nervous.”
“She’ll adore you.”
But did he any longer? She knew she was going against his wishes, but she had little doubt that once he saw their daughter, met her, he’d understand the wisdom of her plans.
With a gentle nudge, he guided her through the gate and up the path. A woman, neither tall nor short, stepped out onto the porch, wringing her hands in front of her. Her brown hair was brought back into a sensible bun. Her dark blue dress showed no wear. Her brown eyes were sad, but her smile was warm. She bobbed a quick curtsy. “Welcome, my lady.”
“Miss Kent will do.”
“This is m’sister, Fanny Baker,” James said, the introductions all out of order. “Fanny, this gent is Mr. Trewlove.”
She nodded toward Finn. “Mr. Trewlove.”
“You’re kind to have us, Mrs. Baker.”
