Page 14 of Dared By a Lyon
Before she’d even finished singing the second verse, the child had relaxed in her arms. Ashlyn realized she had tears streaming down her cheeks. Wiping her tears, she kissed the little girl’s forehead, continued to softly hum the lullaby as her own eyes gradually grew heavy, and fell back asleep with her arm protectively holding the little girl.
For a moment,the sweet voice captured him and swept him back in time to his own childhood memories of his mother singing the very same lullaby to Olivia. She’d probably sung it to him, as well, he reasoned, only he couldn’t remember, obviously, as he was a baby at the time. Olivia had always loved it and sung it every night to Caro as a baby. Was this what Caro had been searching for in her sleepwalking? Her mother? She’d found her way back to Olivia’s bedroom, where she’d slept with Max when they were visiting. His sister had told him, and his mother of the many times Caro would toddle out of bed and scamper across the hall to her bedroom, and Olivia would sing her the lullaby until the child fell asleep once more.
Curious, he approached the door to the room his mother had offered to Miss Vickers and pushed it a little wider. Inside, he saw Miss Vickers holding Caro in her bed, rocking her and humming the gentle song. He breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the touching tableau of his niece, her head tucked into the crook of Miss Vickers’s arm, sound asleep, her long, dark curls seeming to blend with those of Miss Vickers. Even though she was humming, Miss Vickers appeared to be asleep as well.
Moonlight streaming in through the window surrounded them in a warming glow. It was almost as if…
He stopped himself and scrubbed his hands over his face. He was overtired and had imagined…
Thinking to relieve his guest of her unexpected visitor, he stepped into the room, and Miss Vickers’s eyes fluttered open. “She’s asleep,” she whispered.
“Thank you,” he said. “I stopped in to kiss her good night, and she was gone. I was alarmed, until I heard your humming.” He paused. “Her mother…my sister, Olivia…used to sing that to Caro—Caroline every night. It was a lullaby that our mother sang to us when we were children…”
He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her she had the voice of an angel, but the words wouldn’t come.
“I understand,” she said softly, her violet eyes, dark luminous pools reflecting the moonlight.
He thought she truly did understand and could somehow read his mind. And he suddenly wanted to know more about Miss Vickers. Her story. Who she was.
Instead, he said, “I should probably take Caro back to her room.”
She nodded and shifted so that he could pick up his niece. His hands accidentally brushed Miss Vickers’s hair as he did so, and he heard her soft, almost imperceptible intake of breath.
“May I come with you?” she asked. “You’ll need someone to carry the candle.” She nodded to the candle he had placed on the table beside her bed.
“Thank you. I was wondering how I would manage that,” he lied, happy to have her go with him, anticipating the opportunity to find out more about her. He certainly wouldn’t be able to sleep after this.
She reached for her robe that was at the foot of the bed. He turned away, or for certain he’d gape at her as she got up. She slipped on the robe and tied the belt, then slid her feet into the slippers.
After she took the candleholder, he smiled and stepped back to allow Miss Vickers to exit the room first. As they walked down the hallway, neither spoke, and Caro remained asleep. When they reached his niece’s room, he gently tucked her into the bed and placed her stuffed monkey under her arm.
“Good night, sweet Caro. I hope your dreams are happy,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
The child whimpered softly and hugged her monkey closer to her side.
After they left Caro’s room, he closed the door but left it slightly ajar. He turned to Miss Vickers and gestured toward the stairwell. “If you feel comfortable, and if everything is all right with you, I shall bid you good night. I’ve decided I’m probably not going to get much sleep tonight. I’ll head back down to my study to do some reading—”
“I wouldn’t mind something to drink,” she blurted. “That is…would your cook mind if I warmed some milk? It’s soothing and may help me get back to sleep,” she added with a smile and a delicate shrug. “I know my way around a kitchen.”
“I’m sure it would be just fine,” he answered. “Would you mind some company? I think a soothing glass of warm milk would be perfect,” he added. He’d intended to break his vow andindulge in one glass of brandy, but now, suddenly, he no longer wanted to drink.
As they approached the dark kitchen, he used his candle to light the sconces along the wall.
“I love spending time in the kitchen,” Miss Vickers said. “At home, I sometimes bake cookies at night when I can’t sleep.”
“Cookies?” Gabriel asked.
“Oh, yes! That’s right…you call them biscuits in England. I learned that before coming here for the Season.”
The woman had so captivated his attention that he wanted to listen to her melodious voice talk about anything…even something so mundane as cookies, or biscuits, just to watch the excitement in her eyes. “Do you have a favoritecookie?” he found himself asking.
“Oh, unfortunately, I have many favorites,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “There are so many types. But two of my favorites are called jumbles and sugar cookies. Jumbles are spiced or lemon-flavored and are cooked into shapes, and the sugar cookies were our cook’s favorite, and the first she taught me to make.”
“So, your cook likes you in the kitchen?” he asked. “When I was a boy, our cook was forever chasing me out of the kitchen. But that was because I was usually up to some mischief…stealing treats, sneaking dried sausages for the hounds.” He arched a brow.
“Well, I’m sure the hounds had a different view of it.” She winked over her shoulder as she went about retrieving the jug of milk and pouring it into a pot to heat.
“Youdoknow your way around a kitchen,” he remarked with a smile. He retrieved two cups from a nearby shelf and set them on the table.
