As Ryder rode away from Bea's cottage, he wondered if perhaps Sophie would enjoy playing slave girl to his master. Perhaps he could bring her around to it by November. Yes, the days would be shorter then and it would be chilly outside. It would mean long hours in front of the fireplace. He pictured her wearing soft veils, her hair long down her back, teasing him, and he would have her dance for him, like Salome. It would lead to laughter, this kind of play, and to passion. Then he wondered what the ghost had meant by "when they come . .."
CHAPTER
17
RYDER'S LAST STOP of the afternoon was at Jane Jasper's spacious three-story house just outside of the small village of Hadleigh Dale that lay seven miles east of Northcliffe Hall. The house and drive were surrounded by oak and lime trees, thick and green now. He heard his children yelling and laughing before he saw them. He smiled in anticipation as he turned Genesis onto the short drive and dug his heels into his stallion's sides.
Jane and her three helpers, all young women with immense energy and goodwill, all of whom he'd selected himself, were standing in the front yard watching the children play. There were four boys and three girls, all between the ages of four and ten. They were well clothed, clean, loud, and Ryder felt such pleasure at the sight of them that he wanted to shout.
He saw Oliver standing a bit off to the side, a tall, thin boy of ten, leaning on his crutches, but there was a grin on his face as he shouted advice to Jaime, all of six years old and full of male bravado, on how to smash the grit out of Tom, a cherub-faced little boy who could curse more fluently than a Southampton sailor. John, the peacemaker at only eight, a barking spaniel nipping at his heels, was trying to keep them from coming to blows.
Jaime spotted Ryder first and let out a yell. The instant Ryder dropped Genesis's reins and turned, he was nearly brought to the ground by flying arms and legs, and three dogs all leaping and barking madly.
They were all shouting, laughing, all of them talking at once, telling him what they'd done during his absence, all except Jenny, of course, who hung back, her thumb in her mouth. Her mop of dark brown curls shadowing her small face, her ribbon long gone. Ryder gave his full attention to the children, trying to answer all of them at once. He grinned at Jane over Melissa's small head as the little girl took her turn and hugged her skinny arms around his neck until he yelled with imagined pain, making all the children shout with laughter. He was listening to Jaime's near brush with a sunken log while learning how to swim when Jane and her helpers brought out glasses of lemonade and plates of cakes and scones. He sat in their midst, drinking his lemonade, tossing bits of scone to the dogs, listening to their stories, their arguments, all in all, enjoying himself immensely. Jenny sat quietly, two children away from him, slowly and methodically eating a small lemon cake.
After Ryder had distributed all their presents and stepped back to witness them attack the wrapped packages with ill-disguised greed, he walked over to Jenny. She raised her small face, and her blue eyes—Sherbrooke blue eyes, light as the blue of a summer day—were wide and not quite so blank as he remembered. She smiled and he saw joy in her expression, he knew he wasn't mistaken.
"My little love," he said and kneeled down in front of her. He pulled her thumb from her mouth, ran his fingers through her soft hair, and then, very gently, brought her against his chest. The little girl sighed softly, and her arms crept around his neck. He kissed her hair, then closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet child scent of her. God, he loved her, this child of his loins and of his heart.
"She does better, Ryder. She is learning. She is more a part of things, she is more aware."
He didn't release his daughter as he looked up to see Jane standing just behind her.
"She misses you dreadfully whenever you're gone for any length of time, even more this time, which is a very good sign. She asked about you every single day."
"Papa."
Ryder froze. Jane smiled. "That is her surprise for you. She's been practicing. She has said 'papa' for the past two weeks, each time I've showed her that small painting of you."
"Papa."
For a moment, he felt his throat close. Then he buried his face against her neck and felt her soft mouth against his face and she said again in a very satisfied voice, "Papa."
"I've brought you a present, pumpkin."
Her eyes lit up when he pulled the brightly wrapped package from his coat pocket.
Inside was a gold locket. Ryder showed her how to open the locket. On one side was a miniature painting of her and on the other a painting of her mother, who had died birthing her. Ryder remembered the birth, remembered his fear and the endless pain. He also remembered his joy when the small girl child finally came from her dead mother's body, and she was alive. Not completely whole, but alive, and that was all that had mattered to him.
Jane fastened the locket around Jenny's neck and immediately Jenny ran off to show her prize to Amy, a little girl of six who smiled a lot more now than she had five months ago. He heard Jenny yell, "Papa give! Papa give!"
"You're doing very well with her, Jane. You're doing well with all the children. God, I've missed them. I see Oliver's leg is much better. What does Dr. Simons say?"
"The bone is mending and he doubts Ollie will have a limp. He's a very lucky little boy. As for Jaime, the burn marks on his legs and back are completely healed. He's a smart one, Ryder. He reads every book you send over. He spends every shilling of his allowance on even more books. He is well known to Mr. Meyers, who owns the bookshop in the village. As for Melissa, she's got quite a talent with watercolors. Amy wants to be an Italian soprano, God forbid."
Ryder nodded and smiled. He followed Jane to the wide porch and the two of them sat down, watching the children. He listened carefully as she told him of each child's progress, of each child's needs.
He couldn't seem to take his eyes off Jenny, who was now proudly displaying her locket to Melissa, who'd gotten a French doll and wasn't in the least jealous. Ryder knew the children understood that Jenny was his real child, but he doubted it meant much to them, even to Oliver, who sometimes seemed to Ryder to be older than he was.
"I hear you married," Jane said abruptly, her eyes searching his face, and he knew she hoped it was a false rumor.
He smiled. 'Yes, I did. Her name is Sophie."
"It's a surprise. To me. To your other women as well, I imagine."
"You're wrong about that. Bea has a very busy tongue. I have visited with all of them."
She arched a thick black brow.