Falcon and the Sparrow by M. L. Tyndall

Author:M. L. Tyndall [Tyndall, M. L.]
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2011-03-01T21:54:00+00:00

No sooner had the admiral and his sister left the room than a chill struck Dominique. When she looked up, it was to Lady Irene’s icy blue eyes boring into her from the other side of the room.

“Mr. Atherton tells me you are very committed to Christian principles.” She tilted her head and allowed her gaze to wander over Dominique as if she were studying her through a microscope.

“That is true. Are you not?” Dominique clasped her hands in front of her, uneasy in the presence of this high society lady who obviously harbored only hostility toward her.

“Humph. I suppose.” She tossed her head, sending her golden curls quivering, and glided across the room. “You aren’t one of those Methodists, are you?” She scrunched her nose.

William tugged on Dominique’s gown from where he still sat on the divan. “What is a Methodist, Miss Dawson?”

Dominique smiled at him. “I will explain later, William.” The last thing she wanted was for the young boy to witness any more quarrels. He had already heard far more caustic words that evening than was prudent for one so young. Her thoughts sped to the admiral and Mrs. Barton, and fear swirled in her stomach. Whatever she had wished to discuss with him, it involved Dominique; of that she could be sure. The woman had never looked so supercilious before, as if she gloated over some assured victory.

“The Methodists,” Lady Irene began, “dare to say that people of high rank and good breeding are no better than the common wretches that crawl on the earth.” She reached the window and gazed out, her peach gown aglow in the last rays of sunlight. “Absurd.”

As much as she wanted to, Dominique couldn’t leave without responding to this grossly inaccurate belief that ran rampant through the british society. “I believe we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, milady.” She extended her hand to William, thinking it best if she left Lady Irene to her ill-humored musings. “Come, William, let us retire to your room.”

Mrs. Hensworth appeared in the doorway. “There you are, William.” The plump housekeeper’s gaze scanned over Lady Irene and ended in a smile when it reached Dominique. “I’ll take him upstairs, miss.”

William peered up at Dominique with eyes as big as blue saucers. “Can we go to the park tomorrow, Miss Dawson?”

“Of course we can.” Dominique brushed the hair from his forehead and felt a burning of affection fill her eyes.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hensworth.” Dominique kissed William on the cheek, eliciting a chuckle from the boy, and watched as he followed the housekeeper from the room. She must leave this house soon, for she feared if she did not, she would have to leave her entire heart behind.

“Now if you will excuse me.” Dominique nodded toward Lady Irene.

“Why are you not cross with me?” Lady Irene turned from the window and gave Dominique an inquisitive stare.

Dominique searched Lady Irene’s exquisite eyes but found only anguish behind the sparkling blue. Her thoughts sped to her own source of anguish, Marcel.

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