Chapter Six
At first, she dismissed the sound, not recognizing it.
But as it persisted, Ashlyn realized it reminded her of a puppy’s whimper.
But she hadn’t seen a dog or heard a dog when they arrived, nor had Mrs. Flinters mentioned a pet.
Ashlyn sat up in bed to determine where the sound was coming from.
She was glad she’d left the heavy damask window curtains open when she went to bed.
Ever since she was a child prone to nightmares, Ashlyn had slept with her window curtains open.
Now that the storm had passed, the moonlight glowed into the room, making it bright enough to see.
Ashlyn gave a small gasp when she turned and saw a young girl in a white night shift, clutching a well-worn soft toy that looked like a monkey.
The girl stood next to Ashlyn’s bed, and she seemed eager to climb in.
The lovely child had an adorable dimple in her chin, and her face was framed by loose, dark curls.
She immediately reminded Ashlyn of Gabriel.
Is this child related to him? The little girl whimpered again, and Ashlyn realized that the child’s unseeing eyes and puppet-like movements denoted that she was sleepwalking.
Ashlyn was familiar with sleepwalking, as Elizabeth had done it since childhood.
Overcome with tenderness, she softly scooted back and gently patted the mattress beside her, encouraging the child to climb onto the bed.
She didn’t try to wake her up, something she remembered from her own childhood when Elizabeth would sleepwalk.
Immediately, the child climbed onto the mattress and slid beneath the sheets and coverlet.
After a couple more small whimpers, she snuggled close to Ashlyn and appeared to drift into a deeper sleep.
Ashlyn wondered where the girl’s mother was.
Was she Gabriel’s daughter or niece? She decided to ask the countess at breakfast, sensing that the countess was likely the child’s grandmother.
Ashlyn gently ran her fingers through the child’s hair and gently rubbed her back in calming circles, softly humming the lullaby her own mother used to sing to her as a child.
Realizing she was now wide awake, Ashlyn settled in and made herself more comfortable as she cradled the child.
Quietly, she fluffed several pillows behind her and leaned back against the headboard.
In the darkness, she stared out the window across from her canopied bed at the moon, barely peeking from behind the clouds.
With those clouds, she knew that searching for familiar constellations, as she often did on clear nights, was useless.
She gazed up at the sky, wishing she could see the twins, Gemini—and thinking of her cousin, wondering how she was doing and whether she was married yet.
“Elizabeth, I hope things are going well for you,” Ashlyn whispered, wiping a stray tear that rolled down her cheek.
Even though she had strongly disagreed with her cousin, she wanted the best for her—but try as she might, she couldn’t shake the unease about Elizabeth’s journey.
The little girl whimpered again and clung tightly to Ashlyn, almost as if she were seeking her mother’s comfort.
Gently, Ashlyn cuddled the child closer to her and kissed her on the head.
“A bad dream must have driven you from your bed, little one,” she whispered.
“Whatever it was, it was only a dream. You’re safe here with me.
” Ashlyn began to hum the song again, then the words her own mother sang to her as a child floated back to her…
Baloo, my bonnie, lie still and sleep,
Angels are watching o’er thee and me.
Sleep sound, my jewel, the night winds sigh,
While mother sings her lullaby.
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 and indulge 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 favorite cookie?” 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.