Free Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1) by Constance O'Banyon Page A

lineage was a long and honorable one. Abigail was the daughter of a viscount, and the granddaughter of a Scottish laird. Surely she was good enough for the mighty duke of Ravenworth.
    Kassidy’s eyes fastened on her sister’s chest, and she was aware that Abigail’s breathing was labored and shallow.
    “Take the baby to him, at Ravenworth Castle, Kassidy. I want her to be with her father, but you must see her as often as you can.” She blinked back her tears. “She will need you, just as I have always needed you.”
    Kassidy was unable to answer because of the aching throb in her throat. Tears streamed down her face and fell hotly against her clasped hands.
    “Promise me . . . Kassidy.”
    The words were wrenched out of Kassidy. “I promise.”
    A calm settled over Abigail’s features. “I am . . . contented.” And with that, she drew in a long shuddering breath and her body went limp.
    An anguished cry tore from Kassidy’s lips.
    “No, God, please no! Don’t take Abigail from me.”
     
    Kassidy stayed beside her dead sister throughout the night, crying tears of grief. When the sun came up, she sent Tetch to deliver the tragic news to Aunt Mary.
    She refused Maude’s offer to prepare her sister for burial. Kassidy insisted on dressing Abigail in her finest gown. She then brushed her golden hair until it shone. She crossed Abigail’s hands over her chest, and kissed her cold lips. She was as beautiful in death as she had been in life. Kassidy prayed that her sweet sister had found peace at last.
    With a last long look at Abigail, she descended the stairs to find the baby. Without looking on the face of the child, she picked her up and turned to Maude.
    “When my aunt arrives, tell her I have taken the baby to her father. She will make all the arrangements for my sister’s”—tears brightened her eyes, and she choked them back—“my sister’s burial.”
    Maude nodded, her shrewd eyes seeing past the young girl’s hurt. “I overheard you and your sister talking. If you are to take the baby on a journey, you will need help.”
    “If you heard the conversation, perhaps you can tell me who the duke of Ravenworth is.”
    “I know only what I’ve heard, and that is he’s the head of the powerful DeWinter family. I had thought him an old man, but I must be mistaken if he fathered your sister’s child.”
    For the first time, Kassidy looked at the baby. Golden curls, so like Abigail’s, covered the child’s head, and the likeness stabbed Kassidy with renewed grief. Even though she tried, Kassidy could not blame the helpless infant for her sister’s death. But she did not want to love this child if she had to give her up.
    She held the baby tightly, steeling herself against a second loss.
    “You’ll need a wet nurse,” Maude said, catching her attention again. “I know a trustworthy woman who just might be willing to accompany you on your journey.”
    “Will you arrange it for me?”
    The old woman nodded. “I suppose you’ll be using the public coach.”
    “I have no choice. Tetch has taken the buggy and I am not certain when he will return. I must leave at once.”
    “You will not stay to see your sister buried?”
    Kassidy looked at the floor because she could not look into the midwife’s eyes. “I have already said my farewell to my sister.”
    “Then I’ll see that Heloise Gibbins meets you at the coaching inn within the hour.”
    The midwife moved to the door, slipping her bag over her shoulder.
    “Is it far to Ravenworth Castle?” Kassidy wanted to know.
    Maude pursed her lips and said in a ponderous voice, “For you, it could turn out to be a journey without end.”
    “What do you mean?”
    The old woman shrugged. “I mean nothing. But have a care. You cannot just walk up to a duke and present him with a child.”
    Kassidy’s eyes blazed with a determined light. “Oh, can I not? We shall just see about that. He may be a man of great wealth and power, but I will make him do