Page 56 of Lady Daring
Until now.
“Will Lady Clarinda have it?” the matron asked.
“I hope she will.” Henrietta looked at the baby’s face, where a small bubble of milk blew and popped on the tiny Cupid’s bow mouth. She was not doing this for Darien. She was obeying the surprising voice in her head that said “Mine.”She felt the same inward sigh of happiness, of belonging, as when she met Clarinda and knew she had a mother again.
All the same, she felt like a thief when she emerged from the hospital holding the baby, with Mary Ann carrying a small bundle of clothes. James clucked at them.
“’Ey now, it’s been ’ere all along? Right where ye wanted it! Whyn’t leave it ’ere, then?”
“Drive us home, James,” Henrietta said, handing the baby up to Mary Ann.
“A gentry throw!” James exclaimed. “And you want the squeaker in your nursery? What’s ’er ladyship goin’ to say?”
“You know she is mad about babies.” Henrietta squeezed herself into the small seat beside the girl.
“Aye, but ’er own ones,” James noted as he guided the Titans into the street.
Her family and friends wouldn’t understand, even when she explained that she was relieving the strain on the Sisters of Benevolence to take the babe. And Darien would be furious. Henrietta hugged the baby tightly to her chest as the knowledge pierced her heart.
Whatever fragile rapport had sprung up between them would be at an end now thanks to this supreme bit of meddling. She would miss him. He would never comprehend why she needed this.
She had not been able to save Fanny, or Elijah, or so many of the weak and deprived babes she saw in her charitable work. But this one, she could save.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Henrietta approached the cheval glass in her chamber, regarding the stranger reflected there. The filmy whitechemise de le reinethat had felt scandalous in Alywen’s dress shop swirled around her in a sensual whisper, hinting at grace, elegance, and freedom of movement—the ideals of the independent woman.
“For once I can agree to the bosom friends,” Henrietta said, turning to study her profile. “All the same, I look undressed.”
Duprix arranged the subtle flounces of the sleeves and the drape of the skirt. “I shall put a bandeau in your hair and leave it unpowdered, as M’sieur Daring prefers. He likes for you to look like one of those girls on the Greek vase.”
“I am not dressing to please Darien,” Henrietta said.
But was she dressing to please herself? She hardly knew this girl in the mirror. She was not the innocent Darien had guarded while she repaired her gown in the Chapel Royal of St. James. She was not the same woman he had dressed for dinner at home, blindly focused on her reforming causes.
She felt different. Awakened. His kiss had taught her something about herself.
She had a child to take care of now.
And Darien had not called since their falling out at the Bicclesfield ball. He was hardly likely to attend her debate. If Uncle Pelton could not aid him in his cause, what more could he want with Henrietta? He had drawn his masterful hands over her as if she were a musical instrument brought to life by his touch. And then he left.
Duprix unclenched crushed fabric from Henrietta’s fists. “Is Ma’mselle nervous?”
“Incredibly, yes. I’ve participated in debates before, but tonight—it matters very much that people listen.”
This debate meant more than a philosophical discussion, more than admittance into the Minerva Society. Her topic could influence the fate of the young girls above stairs, her beloved half-sisters, as well as the newest little one they had welcomed into their domain.
“Then it is well you look innocent and wise at the same time.” Duprix focused on Henrietta’s hair. “That is Lady Celeste’s babe, yes?”
No reason to prevaricate; all the servants must know already. “Yes.”
“What will M’sieur say when he knows you have taken her?”
What, indeed? She had sent a note informing him that she had located Celeste’s daughter, that she was safe. She had heard nothing from him in response.
She knew how her actions would look to Miss Pennyroyal and others. Lacking the personal charms to attract Lord Daring, Henrietta had spirited away his child to gain his attention.
“A sash or zone for the bodice?” Henrietta suggested, feeling exposed.
