“I’ll go pack up her things, shall I?” Fanny Baker continued. “I didn’t want to do it before you got here. She’s a curious one, would have been asking questions, and I don’t know that I have the right words. Hopefully you do.” She turned—
“No.” Lavinia had pushed the word up from the depths of her soul. She met the gaze of the woman staring at her. “We won’t be taking her.”
Fanny Baker released a great sob, sounded as though she was strangling on the next one trying to keep it from bursting forth, pressed a trembling hand to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes and flowed over onto her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Forgive me for crying.”
Shaking her head, Lavinia drew her daughter’s mother into her arms. “It’s all right. For seven years, I lived with the guilt of not protecting her. All I wanted was for her to be loved and happy. I can see that she is, more than I ever hoped for.”
Fanny eased back, swiped at her damp cheeks. “Thank you, m’lady. Thank you for not taking her.”
“Vivi, please. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I were to be her auntie and came to visit from time to time.”
“You’d be most welcomed.”
“Thank you.” She glanced over to where the child was still nattering, and Finn was smiling. She hoped he’d agree with her decision. Based on his stance the evening before, she was rather certain he would. “I think I need to take a closer look at that tree.”
She wandered toward the group, feeling a sense of peace she’d not experienced in eight years, not since the night when she’d made plans to run off with a boy she’d desperately loved. As she neared, Finn turned his attention from their daughter to her, the smile that had been so bright for the lass dwindling, his gaze sobering. She stopped beneath the wide boughs of the tree. “It’s time for us to leave. Just you and I.”
Warmth seeped into his dark eyes, one corner of his mouth eased up slightly as he threaded his fingers through hers.
“Thank you,” Joe Baker said, his voice hoarse with emotions.
“No,” she said. “Thank you, Mr. Baker. Thank you for loving her.”
He placed his large roughened hand on Angela’s small delicate shoulder. “You need to give the nice lady a hug goodbye.”
Without any hesitation at all, her daughter raced toward her. Lavinia dropped to her knees as the slender arms were flung around her neck with enthusiasm. Closing her own arms around the slight body, she held her precious child close, inhaling her fragrance of grass and woods, her cheek pressed against a smaller one, not caring one whit that her eyes were filling with tears, rolling down her face, remembering how she had screamed for her mother to let her hold the babe just once... just once.
Now at long last, after all these years, she had the embrace she’d longed for.
Angela began to squirm, and Lavinia released her hold, not surprised to find Finn’s hands cradling her waist, providing support as she rose to her feet. With gratitude, she took the handkerchief he offered and wiped the lingering tears from her cheeks.
“Did I hurt you?” Angela asked.
“No, sweetheart, you made me all better.”
Joe Baker lifted his daughter into his arms. “Say goodbye now.”
“Bye.”
“Perhaps we can come back to visit sometime,” Lavinia told her.
“You can play in my cottage with me,” she said, pointing up.
“I’d like that very much.”
With her hand clinging to Finn’s, she walked away with her heart at once joyous and breaking.
Sitting across from Vivi in the carriage, Finn watched her carefully, striving to get a sense of what she was feeling. He’d asked James to ride atop with the driver because he was rather certain Vivi was in need of some time alone, would not want any witnesses should she fall apart. Instead she merely glanced out the window as if the graying scenery was the most fascinating thing in the world. Rain began pattering on the roof, adding to the somber atmosphere. He’d have to give James a few quid for the inconvenience of being rained on.
“She looks like you,” he finally said.
She released a light laugh and glanced over at him. “Funny. I thought she looked like you.”
“She has your green eyes.”
Her smile was whimsical, as though she couldn’t decide whether to be happy or sad. “She does that, but I think she got your height. I was surprised by how tall she is already. For some reason, I expected her to be smaller.” She looked down at her gloved hands, clasped so tightly that he suspected the knuckles were turning white within the leather. “I couldn’t take her, Finn.”
Leaning forward, he placed his hands over hers. “I know. I’m glad.”
