“
“I’m told she is an…
“You’re
“You can’t believe that the child has been living with me?” Sabine rolled her eyes as if she found him desperately slow-witted.
“Of course not,” he said. “Having a child about would be too inconvenient.”
“Don’t be foolish,” she snapped, her expression suddenly angry. “Men can raise their bastard children if they wish, but for a woman it would be a catastrophe.”
Alex had to acknowledge that there was some truth to that, at least in France.
“So where has your daughter been living?” he asked.
Sabine shrugged one elegant shoulder. “With an elderly couple in the country.”
What did Sabine want? Was it money? Did she think a wee visit with the child was necessary to convince him to pay?
“Tell me why ye went to the trouble of bringing the child here,” he said.
“Why indeed!” Her hand fluttered to her chest. “It was a risk, but it would have been a greater risk to keep her in France.”
It finally dawned on him that Sabine wanted him to take the child. He began pacing the small parlor again, feeling like a trapped animal.
“Ye say this child is a girl?” He could hear the desperation in his voice.
“Why yes, she is,” Sabine said, cool as could be.
“And now, after all this time,” he said, flinging his arms out wide, “ye want to give her away, like some garment you’ve grown tired of?”
“Hardly that.”
Alex felt as if he’d been tossed overboard in a rough sea, and the waves were too high for him to see which way was the shore.
“You must take her, Alexander.”
He ran his hands through his hair as he walked back and forth. “What is the child’s name?”
“I believe,” she said, shifting her gaze to the side, “that the couple she lived with called her Claire.”
“Christ above, Sabine, ye didn’t even give the child a name?” He was incensed, but he may as well be angry with a cuckoo bird for being a bad mother. Sabine was who she was.
Alex felt sorry for the child, having a mother with so little regard for her. While his own parents fought like hungry dogs, he never doubted that they cared for him. They simply cared more about making each other miserable.
“I have provided for her from birth,” Sabine said. “Now you must take her.”
He heard Tearlag’s voice in his head:
“What would I do with a wee girl?” he demanded, raising his hands in the air. The notion was ridiculous.
“You must know someone who could care for her,” Sabine said, as if she were talking about a pet dog. “I heard your cousin Ian has wed. Perhaps he could take her? If you’ve no one else, you can always put her in a convent.”
“A convent?” he said, raising his voice. “The child is what—five, six years old?”
Sabine got to her feet and smoothed her gown. “Before you decide to abandon her—”
“
“I suggest you meet your daughter,” Sabine finished, ignoring his interruption.
“My ship leaves in two days.” Sabine pulled a slip of paper out of her sleeve and handed it to him. “Meet me at this address at dawn, and I’ll take you to her.”
Alex heard the rustle of Sabine’s silk skirts as she walked to the door, but he did not look up from the folded paper clenched in his hand.
“One last thing, Alexander,” she said. “Albany intends to have you arrested as soon as D’Arcy leaves the city.”
CHAPTER 21
The old woman had not brought food yet today, so she and her doll were hungry. Poor Marie was dirty as well. If Grandmere was here, she would scold Claire for not taking better care of her doll. Grandpere had made Marie specially for his little girl from straw and rope, and then Grandmere had sewn her pretty gown from scraps.
The girl pressed her nose against Marie’s soft belly and sniffed, but the smell of Grandmere and Grandpere had been gone for a long, long time.
CHAPTER 22
When Glynis came down for supper, a man dressed in a priest’s robes was already sitting at the head of the table. He looked at her with gray eyes that were the same color and shape as her own, but they were as cold as a frozen pond.
