Lady Sparrow

by Barbara Metzger

  “Like a robin, my precious baby,” Mina said, lifting him into her arms at last. “Like a robin.”

  The dowager lowered her lorgnette. “I definitely see something of Sparrowdale about the boy, don’t you, Dorcas?”

  Mina’s cousin squinted uncertainly, then borrowed the dowager’s quizzing glass. “I thought he looked just like Minerva when she was younger, but, yes, now that you mention it, there is something different about the nose.”

  “He’s got a beautiful nose!” Mina protested.

  The duchess tut-tutted. “A mother never sees her children’s failings. To me, Lowell is quite the handsomest man in London, except for Andrew, of course, despite his spectacles.”

  He was to Mina too, but what was that to the purpose? “My son does not have the Sparr nose.”

  Her Grace raised her lorgnette again, this time to scrutinize Mina. “If I say he resembles Sparrowdale, my dear, then the ton will see the likeness.”

  Mina had to bite her tongue.

  The other children adored him. He was a good-natured boy, and let them take turns with his beloved sailboat, even blind Martin, who sank it in the copper bathtub. They did not call him Bobby, though, nor Robby, which was what Mina had decided on, nor Robert or Bob or Robin. They called him Sparrow.

  “We need an earl,” Perry explained. “I told the others about Sparrows Nest, and we all want to live there, ’stead of in Portsmouth. We can’t, an’ the crown keeps it. Homer says they’ll give it to one of the Royal Dukes, who’ll do nothing but keep his doxies there. ’Sides, it’s closer to Marcel.”

  The mad artist and his sister had been good to Perry, but Mina did not think they were the best influences on the boy. The further away from them, the better. “I am afraid we cannot be concerned about Monsieur Palombe. Lord Lowell did pay him handsomely for my portrait”—which he lovingly placed on the mantel in the library—“and Westy, that is, His Grace of Westcott, mentioned commissioning him to paint Lady Millicent.” And the Duchess of Mersford, but the dowager’s girlish giggles promised that would be a different kind of portrait.

  Perry was still frowning. “It ain’t—it isn’t—right, though, Granny staying on with her sister in Bath and all of us stepbrothers going off without Marcel.”

  “All of you . . . ? Marcel?” Of course. M.P., the eldest of Sparrowdale’s misdirected dynasty.

  “He’d be famous, though, were it known he had an earl for a brother. Sparrow could see he had his pictures hung at the Royal Academy, even.”

  “Sparrow, that is, Rob, is only four. And I have not yet decided whether—”

  “You could do a lot for all the other children we couldn’t take, being an earl’s mother.”

  Harkness had served at Sparrows Nest his entire life. His father had been butler there before him. It was not an easy job, considering the nature of the preceding earls, yet that was where Harkness wished to spend the rest of his days, as senior servant of the Earl of Sparrowdale. He told Master Rob about the ornamental lake there, and the fountains and the fishpond. Lovely for sailing small ships, Sparrows Nest was, with plenty of space for a pet tiger to roam.

  Once everyone else had retired, it was Lowell’s turn. The library fire burned low and only a few lamps were left burning, so they sat close together, as if holding the shadows—and the world—at bay.

  “No one will question Rob’s claim to the title, you know,” Lowell told Mina, as he gently stroked the back of her neck. “Not with my brother’s backing and no other heirs crawling out of the woodwork. The word about town is that Roderick was capable of every kind of crime, including arranging for his cousin’s death. Having someone kidnap Sparrowdale’s infant son and replace the baby with a dead child would be just Roderick’s style, not getting his own hands dirty. If someone should, however, challenge your son’s right to the succession, I happen to have a half brother of my own, the best barrister in all of London.”

  “Your unacknowledged half brother. Her Grace told me how proud she is of him.”

  “As she should be. He would never let your name or the boy’s be dragged through the gutters, I swear.”

  “But I cannot lie!”

  “You will not have to. Did you know you were increasing at the time of your wedding?”

  “I . . . I thought I might be, but I was not sure.”

  “Which means no, you did not know. Now I know this is personal, but did you miss your courses?”

  Mina twisted the ribbons on her gown. “Yes, but . . .”

  He brushed that away. “Bridal nerves. Now here is the only question that matters, my love. Did Sparrowdale consummate the marriage?”

  Mina wished for still less candlelight so he could not see her embarrassment. How could she say such things, and what if Lowell thought less of her because of it?

  “My love?”

  If she really were—his love, that was—he would understand. “Once. I was afraid and upset and feeling sick to my stomach. It was awful. Worse even than when Ninian . . .” She did not finish. “Sparrowdale tried again, but . . . but I did not please him. Then it became obvious I was carrying a child and I was ill all the time, so he left me alone. That must have been when he took up with Wendell’s mother, while he still could.”

  “Good, else he would have spread his vile disease to you. But the fact is, Rob could have been his. Declaring him so will at least preserve Sparrowdale’s name and title, and keep his holdings intact for the other boys to know their heritage. You can guard it for them—and teach Rob to look after the land, and for his mother’s wards.”

  “I don’t think I can do it, Lowell. I do not know the first thing about children.”

  “You can do anything, Mina.”

  “Running Sparrows Nest, raising all those boys, looking after my father’s business and investments, guiding Marcel’s career—I cannot do it all.”

  He turned her to face him, on the couch. “You would not have to do it alone, you know.”

  Mina tried to find answers in his eyes. For once she wished his glasses did not hide so much. “Harkness?”

  He laughed. “I had a bit more personal assistance in mind, my love. For you are my love, you know, and I would willingly share your burdens, yes, and your joys. At first I thought I was unworthy of you, a second son and all that. But now I would gladly die for you, and surely die without you. That has to count for something in assessing a gentleman’s prospects, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I’d say it meant more than any title or fortune.”

  “Then will you marry me, Mina, and make me the happiest of men?”

  “Oh, Lowell, I do love you, but . . .”

  He stopped her protests with a kiss. “If you love me, nothing else matters.”

  “It does, though. What if I do not please you, either?”

  Since that one kiss had left him aching, Lowell had no qualms there. “I fear you will please me so well I shall die for it, or die without it.” Which required another kiss.

  “What if I do not like it, though?” Mina had to ask. “Sparrowdale said I was cold.”

  “Sweetheart, you are like molten lava. Trust me, you will like it. You already like my kisses, don’t you?”

  So Mina had to show him how much.

  Then, even though her senses were spinning, Mina had to make sure that he was sure, for she could not bear it if Lowell regretted their marriage later, not when she would love him until the day she breathed her last. “But my birth is beneath yours, and my past does not bear examining. All those children will keep the gabble-grinders in grist, you know.”

  “What I know is that the boys deserve a chance at happiness, despite their being born on the wrong side of the blanket. Do you not agree?”

  “Of course. That is why I want them here, with me, where I can provide for them.”

  “And they deserve the opportunity to better themselves, to be the best they can be, despite the stigma of their birth?”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “Then
why are you any less deserving? Better yet, why am I? Am I not entitled to find my happiness, to find the rest of my soul, the part that makes me a whole man, a better man than I could be on my own?”

  “I can do that?”

  “Let me show you what you can do, my love.”

  After a very informative interval, during which Harkness went off to bed, a satisfied smile on his face, Lowell asked, “I take it that is a yes?”

  Mina also wore a satisfied smile on her face, and not much else. “Hmm.”

  Lowell covered them with his discarded coat, without letting her out of his arms. He might never again, he thought, she felt so good there. “You do know that marrying me will mean a step down the social ladder?”

  “I do not care for that fustian, as long as I am with you.”

  “Yes, but people are going to say I am marrying you for your money, you realize.”

  “Aren’t you?” she teased, knowing him for the most admirable man in the world.

  “No, I am wedding you for the boys, and your butler, and your gorgeous little body, of course.” Which he paused to admire again. “In fact, I’d wish the money to perdition, except that I could not keep you all in diamonds and furs and tigers and oil paints and ponies. But I do intend to earn my keep.”

  Mina smiled and rubbed her cheek against his, loving the feel of him, the scent of him, the closeness of him. “How is that, Lowell?”

  “Why, as a discreet detective, of course. I am the finest around, you know. Just ask my mother. After the wedding, which event, incidentally, had better take place as soon as possible so we do not add even more tidbits to the scandalbroth, or another Sparrowdale surprise, I intend to find the earl’s daughters.”

  “Sparrowdale’s daughters?”

  “What, did you think a man could have so many sons without siring a girl? Highly doubtful. I’ll find them for you. But right now,” he said, touching his lips to the tender spot right below Mina’s ear, “I think we need to conduct a very private investigation of our own. What do you say?”

  Mina was already smiling. “I say you are hired, my love.”