Read Barbara Metzger for Free Online

unprepossessing female possessed more hair than wit if she thought he was going to play nanny to the brat.
    "What if Mr. Byrd cannot find a nursing mother with milk to spare until tomorrow? They are not waiting at every street corner, you know. At least I hope they are not."
    He grasped at straws. “But you are so good with her. See, she's quieted right down."
    Carissa smiled, at the baby, not the peer. “Yes, she is a darling, and I would love to stay with her. I wish there was a way I could keep her, even, as my own. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy holding an infant. But the little lamb is yours, my lord, and you know that I cannot remain. Sir Gilliam has been more than understanding, but I need to see he takes his medicine. Mason would let him go without, or let him have more wine than the doctor recommends. Come, sir, hold your daughter."
    The viscount sat, and Carissa carefully placed the child in his arms, tilted the bottle just so, and stood back. The babe looked up at him with the same wise scrutiny Mrs. Kane's daughter had, only this chit had his own black-rimmed blue eyes. Her skin was almost as white as the milk, and her nose was just the right size. She was a beauty, his daughter, if he had to say so himself. And she was drinking happily from the bottle he held. “Look at that, she likes it."
    "Not as much as mother's milk, but it will do for now, I hope.” Carissa took her own daughter on her lap and combed Pippa's light brown curls with her fingers. They both watched him watch his daughter. “Don't you think she should have a name, my lord? Even if her new family changes it, she deserves more than ‘Baby.’ Are you sure her mother did not give her one?"
    "The note merely said that she was a souvenir from Vienna. Sue. That's it, I'll call her Sue. What do you think?"
    Pippa spoke up: “I think you should call her Lovey. Mama says she's your love child ‘cause no lady will marry you."
    While Hartleigh choked, Mrs. Kane's cheeks flooded with color. Then she smiled at the girl, and the viscount, recovered, was struck again by how her pinched features were rounded, softened by the affectionate expression. “But Lovey is only a pet name, darling, like darling. Sue is a perfect name. Sweet Sue."
    "Sweet Sue,” Lesley repeated. “Yes.” Feeling more confident, he touched the downy fuzz on the baby's head, then her cheek to see if it was as impossibly smooth as it looked. One hand reached out and grasped his finger. Oh Lud, he wasn't drowning. He was sunk.
    [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Five
    The woman was right, again. Lesley admitted that there was, indeed, something magical about holding a sleeping infant in one's arms. What trust, what faith—and what he wouldn't give to ensure his daughter's happiness! He wanted to take her to Hyde Park to introduce her to the ton, and not simply to convince the Polite World that he was not worthy of their pampered darlings. Lord Hartleigh wanted to show off this marvel, this miracle, this—sour milk on his clean waistcoat.
    "Hell and damnation, the brat spit up on me!"
    Mrs. Kane was already dabbing at Sue's face. She almost wiped the viscount's chest also, but caught herself in time. Blushing, she handed him the dampened towel. Luckily his lordship was too concerned with the affront to his tailoring and his dignity to notice. “You needn't take it as a personal insult, my lord. Babies do that, you know. What with the unfamiliar milk, to say nothing of what you gave her earlier, it will be a wonder if Sue does not develop colic."
    Horses died of colic. Lesley's arms tightened around his daughter until she screwed up her face in protest. “Should we send for a physician?"
    "Only if you need a restorative draft for your nerves, my lord. Babies get unhappy with the colic; most survive, and their parents do, too."
    He relaxed, soothed by her confidence, and Sue went back to sleep. His arm was turning to pins and needles where it rested on the chair rung, but he