Promise of a Family

His eyes grew as wide as tea saucers. “My own bed?”

“Yes, but you have to share tonight.” She waited until he curled up at the foot of the mattress and then pulled a blanket over him. “Go to sleep.”

He mumbled something as he looked past her toward the other mattress. She eased to her right, blocking his view of the other boys. Giving him a stern look, she waited until he closed his eyes.

Susanna left one light burning low in the dressing room and went into her sitting room. The lamps were dim there, too, but moonlight came through the trio of tall windows that looked out, as most windows in the house did, over the gardens and the rolling fields beyond them. She could mark the seasons by the flowers that bloomed and faded in the garden.

She dropped heavily to the chaise longue. Leaning her head back, she stared up at the ceiling. The mural there was lost in the shadows, but she could re-create in her mind every bright color of the fields and the orchard as well as the people who had gathered to flirt and pick apples.

Ah, to be so carefree! She could not even recall what it felt like. The weight of her added responsibilities ground down on her. On the shore, while she had the assistance of Captain Nesbitt, taking care of the children had not seemed like such a huge undertaking. Now...

A knock came at the door, and Susanna pushed herself to her feet. That must be one of the maids with the baby. Mrs. Hitchens, the housekeeper, had already selected a wet nurse from among the volunteers in the village. The young woman, who was about to wean her own baby, was willing to come to Cothaire several times a day to feed the nameless baby.

“Caroline!” Susanna gasped when she opened the door. She had not expected to see her oldest sibling at this hour when the family should have been at the table.

Caroline Trelawney Dowling had a welcoming face. That was what their mother had always said, and Susanna believed it was true. Kindness and warmth glowed from her pale blue eyes, whether she met a friend or a stranger. She was a bit plumper than fashion demanded, but that had not mattered to her late husband. John Dowling had loved her exactly as she was, and she had loved him for that.

Loved him still, Susanna knew. Neither death nor the passage of five years had changed that. Often, Susanna wondered what it would be like to have a man love her like that, but common sense always quickly returned.

“May we come in?” Caroline asked.

Only then did Susanna notice her sister carried a tiny bundle in her arms. “You did not need to disrupt your evening meal to bring the baby here.”

“There was no disruption.” Caroline smiled down at the baby. “Papa is taking his supper in his rooms, and Arthur has not yet returned from his visit to the far tenant farms. You know he never arrives home until long after dark when he goes there.”

Susanna stepped aside to let her sister enter. Pointing to the half-closed door that led to her dressing room, she put her fingers to her lips.

Caroline nodded.

“I have a drawer lined with blankets for this babe,” Susanna whispered, holding out her hands.

“May I hold her awhile longer?”

“Of course.” She should not be surprised. Her sister had longed for children of her own, but that dream had been dashed when John died. “Why don’t you sit?”

When her sister chose the chaise longue, Susanna turned up a lamp before sitting on a nearby chair. She watched as Caroline snuggled the baby close, gazing down at her with obvious affection. Susanna bit her lower lip. If her sister became too attached to the baby, her heart was sure to break when the children’s parents were found.

“Don’t fret, little sister,” Caroline said as if Susanna had spoken her thoughts aloud. “I know this darling sprite is here only for a short time, but that is no reason not to savor every moment while I can.” She looked up and smiled. “Tell me. Who was that very good-looking man who came to the house with you?”

“Drake Nesbitt. He is the captain of that listing ship in the harbor.”

“He seemed very solicitous of you.”

“You are mistaken. His thoughts were focused solely on the children.”

Caroline chuckled softly. “Then explain why he was watching you all the time.”

“He was?” She clamped her lips closed when her sister’s smile broadened, but she could not halt the quivers from deep in her center. Oh, bother! She had not intended to say anything so silly. Gathering her composure around her anew, she said, “Captain Nesbitt rescued the children, so he wished to make sure they were comfortable here. As I am the one arranging that, he had every reason to watch that I did as I promised.”

“I agree.”

“Good.”

“He had every reason to watch you, but why did you watch him leave Cothaire?”

Susanna refused to let her vexation surface that someone had noted her by the window and carried the tale to her sister. “I happened to be by the window.” That was the truth. “He is a sailor. I will never be so want-witted as to tangle my life up with one of them.”

Her sister’s face lost all color.

“Oh, Caroline! I am so sorry. I did not mean you were foolish to marry John.”

“I know you didn’t.” Her older sister sighed.

“I am sorry to remind you about him.”

Caroline drew her feet up beneath her and leaned back against the high end of the chaise longue, shifting the baby in her arms. “You did not remind me. I never forget. Not ever.” She squared her shoulders. “Papa tells me that I need to put the mourning behind me as it has been more than five years since John left on that voyage. I don’t know how.”

Moving to sit by her sister’s feet on the chaise longue, Susanna said, “You could ask Papa.”

“I don’t think he knows, because he still misses Mama more than he will admit.”

“What about asking Raymond?”

Caroline shook her head. “Take advice on love from my younger brother who is not yet married? I don’t think so.”

“But he is our parson.”

“I know, and I appreciate his concern and teachings for our congregation.” A faint smile smoothed out the lines of grief in her face. “Still, I cannot imagine speaking to my baby brother about the state of my heart. Perhaps I should speak to you instead.”

“Me about marriage?” Susanna gave a sharp laugh. “I am less of an expert than Raymond is.”

“But losing the one you love has nothing to do with being married. It has to do with healing your heart.”

Susanna opened her mouth but clamped it closed when a sharp cry came from the dressing room. She jumped to her feet. Racing across the sitting room, she pushed open the door just in time to see Toby and Bertie roll off the mattress and across the floor. Bertie got up. Toby chased him. Bertie screeched. The other children woke up and climbed off the mattresses, eager not to miss what was happening.

Susanna reached out and took each little boy by the back of his shirt. She pulled them as far apart as her arms could stretch. Bertie was cradling his arm, and, even in the low light, Susanna could see a bite mark near his elbow.

“He bited me,” Bertie cried, thick tears rolling down his face.

“Did you bite him, Toby?” She wanted to be fair, but she had seen the dark-haired boy tormenting the smaller Bertie all evening.

“He take my pillow.” Toby puffed up in righteous indignation. “He gots pillow. Me want my pillow.”

“He pinched me.”

“He stuck out his tongue.”

“He—”