Heaven Sent (6 page)

Becky had been fascinated by Callie’s
stories of how she and her sisters used to dread trips to New York
to visit their aunt. Callie had played up Aunt Venetia’s sour side,
with a prayer to her Maker for forgiveness. She didn’t feel too
guilty. Aunt Venetia really could be a beast without half trying,
and Callie figured God would commend her for making this child
happy, even if doing so involved telling one or two exaggerated
tales about her aunt.

“
You can show me on the
globe where it is,” Becky suggested cheerily.

“
I can indeed.” Providing
Becky’s papa wasn’t ensconced in the room, in which case Callie
planned to introduce a diversion. She didn’t fancy running into Mr.
Aubrey Lockhart until she absolutely had to.

The library door stood open, however,
and there was no sign of Aubrey within. Callie heaved a gusty
internal sigh. She wasn’t afraid of him; it was only that she
didn’t want to tangle with him while she was so blasted mad at him.
The longer she remained in Becky’s company, the more firmly she
believed the child needed her. More, she needed her father, the big
lug.

Becky skipped into the room and darted
over to a huge and beautiful globe standing on an ornamental
teakwood stand.

“
Here’s Papa’s globe. Can
you show me New York?”

Callie joined her at the globe. “I
certainly can. Can you show me where the United States
is?”

Becky was happy to demonstrate her
geographical knowledge. Before pointing out the United States, she
reeled off the rest of the continents, much to Callie’s
delight.

“
This one’s Asia,” the
little girl said in a teacherish voice. “This is where most of my
papa’s business comes from. In China. See? This is China. Over
here’s India. He gets pretty things from India, too. He imports tea
from both places.”

“
I see.” Callie nodded
soberly, although inside she was smiling.

“
And this big one is
‘Stralia. It’s a big island, Papa says.”

“
I see.”

“
Papa says the English
people used to send their criminals there.” Becky shuddered
eloquently. “1 wouldn’t like to live there with all those
criminals.”

“
No, indeed.” Callie didn’t
spoil Becky’s moment by telling her that lots of the original
settlers in the United States were deemed criminals by their
British judges.

“
And here’s Europe. That’s
where Mama’s ans’ters are from. Right here. In Wales.”

“
My goodness. That’s very
interesting, Becky. Do you know where your papa’s ancestors came
from?”

Becky nodded with vigor. “Yes. They
came from another part of the same country. That’s England. It’s
another big island, Papa used to say.”

“
Ah. The same place the
criminals came from.”

Becky looked up at her, shocked. “My
papa isn’t—”

Callie mentally smacked herself for
being sarcastic about Becky’s father in front of her. “Of course,
he isn’t a criminal.” She made sure she sounded both positive and
jolly. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Still gazing up at her and looking
puzzled, Becky said, “You mean it was a joke?”

A joke? “Well, sort of, although it
wasn’t a very good one. What I meant was that it wasn’t only
criminals who came from England, Becky. My own ancestors came from
the same region. I think they originated in Scotland.”

Becky’s air of puzzlement didn’t
abate. “Where’s that?”

Glad to change the subject, Callie
showed her where Scotland was. “See? It’s very close to England and
Wales. They’re neighbors.”

“
Oh. There are lots of
countries close together there, huh?”

“
There surely are. Do you
know any of the other continents?”

“
I know them all.” The
little girl sounded proud of her knowledge. Callie didn’t begrudge
her that; the poor thing needed to feel good about
something.

“
Can you show
me?”

Nodding, Becky turned the globe.
Callie noticed that she was very careful with it. Curious, because
she’d also noticed that Becky mentioned her papa with regard to
these geography lessons, she asked, “Was it your papa who told you
where all the continents are, Becky?”

Becky nodded again. “Yes. He used to
hold me on his lap and show me all the countries, too, He taught me
lots.”

“
Ah. I see,”

So. Mr. Remote hadn’t always been such
an old poop. Interesting.

“
See? Here’s Africa.” Becky
pointed. “People used to capture the natives and sell them to other
people for slaves.”

“
That was very
bad.”

“
Yes. That’s what Papa said.
He used to say slavery is one of the worse evils mankind ever
thought up.”

In spite of the dreadful topic, Callie
smiled. She could almost hear Aubrey’s voice coming out of his
little girl’s mouth. She jumped at the opportunity to mend a fence,
too.

“
Your papa’s right, Becky.
Slavery is a great evil.”

Becky nodded solemnly. “And here’s
Antarctica.” She enunciated the difficult word slowly. “It’s cold
down there.”

“
Yes indeed.”

“
And where’s the last
continent, Becky?”

“
Here!” Becky pointed her
finger at it. “America! That’s where we live.”

“
We sure do. Can you find
Santa Angelica on the globe?”

Becky shook her head. “No. Papa said
Santa Angelica is too small to show up on the globe. But it’s about
here.” She pointed again. And she was right.

Callie was impressed. “Right you are.
You’re a smart girl, Becky.”

“
Papa said so,
too.”

It was almost always
Papa used to say
, Callie
realized. She sighed. “Here, sweetheart, let me show you about
where my aunt lives. New York City’s a lot bigger than Santa
Angelica, but I don’t think it’s big enough to show up on the
globe, either. The world’s a very big place. Here it is. This is
where my aunt Venetia lives.”

“
That’s way over on the
other side of the country.” Becky sounded surprised.

“
It’s a long way away. Three
thousand miles, or thereabouts.”

“
That’s a real long
way.”

“
It sure is. And after you
travel all that way, you have to see Aunt Venetia.” Callie wrinkled
her nose, and Becky giggled.

“
So. Would you like to see
if your papa has any books about New York or the eastern part of
the United States?”

“
Oh, yes!”

The excitement in Becky’s
voice made Callie happy. She was glad she’d applied and been
accepted for this position. She might be a poor substitute for
Becky’s mother, but she was
somebody
, and it was already a great
pleasure to pay attention to Becky Lockhart, who was a
darling.

Callie and Becky searched the shelves.
There were scads of books, some of which were novels. Callie
presumed they’d been read and loved by Anne Lockhart and suppressed
another sigh for Becky’s loss. As she looked, Callie came across a
shelf low to the floor that contained books written for
children.

“
Oh, look here, Becky.
Here’s a big picture book about the Pilgrims. That will probably
tell us a lot about the people who settled in New York and
thereabouts.”

“
I know about the
Pilgrims.”

Trying to sound casual, Callie said,
“Did your papa tell you about them?”

Becky shook her head. “Mama used to
read to me out of that book. It’s all about the Pilgrims and early
settlers.” She delivered the last sentence in her teacher’s
voice.

Oh, dear. “Urn, would you like me to
find another book, sweetheart?” Above all things, Callie didn’t
want to stir up feelings of loss in her new charge. Becky’d had
more than enough unhappiness to cope with lately.

“
No. I like that
book.”

Studying her face, Callie decided
Becky was telling the truth. The little girl even looked pleased
that they’d be revisiting an old friend of a book.

“
Good. Then let’s sit over
here by this window. I’ll pull the curtain back for
light.”

Scampering over to the curtains behind
a big, overstuffed chair, Becky pulled them back for Callie. “This
is where Mama and I used to sit when she read to me.”

Settling herself in the chair—which
was every bit as comfortable as it looked—Callie patted her lap.
“Want to sit here, Becky? Or you can sit on the arm of the chair if
you’d rather.”

If Mr. Lockhart ever found out she’d
invited his daughter to squash his expensive furniture, he’d
probably pitch a fit, she thought nastily. Then she took herself to
task. Evidently he hadn’t always been such a prune. According to
the driblets of information Becky had let fall today, he’d actually
been more or less human, once upon a time.

Ignoring the arm of the chair, Becky
scrambled up onto Callie’s lap. “I like the one about the Indians
and Jamestown,” she told Callie as she climbed.

“
Jamestown was in what is
now the state of Virginia, but if you’d like we could start there
and work our way up to New York.”

“
Good. I’d like
that.”

“
All right, then, we’ll
start with Jamestown.” After consulting the index, Callie turned to
page twenty-three, and started reading in a dramatic voice, “‘The
first permanent British settlement was established in 1607. The
coming of settlers to the New World, however, was not without dire
incident. During their first hard winter, the citizens of
Jamestown, in the Colony of Virginia . . .’ ”

******

Aubrey felt gloomy as he descended the
stairs, intending to visit his library and do some work before he
resumed brooding about his miserable life. He wished he could get
over this. Not that he’d ever truly get over losing Anne. Such a
thing was impossible. But he could certainly use a little spirit
and joy in his life.

For two years now, he’d felt as if God
had ripped his heart right out of his body. The wound refused to
heal, and he was tired of it. Although he hated to admit it, he
believed that perhaps he’d done his daughter a favor by hiring the
rambunctious Miss Prophet. At least Becky’s new nanny had made his
little girl laugh.

“
Which is a damned sight
more than you’ve been able to do for the past couple of years,” he
lectured himself. “You ought to thank the impertinent
busybody.”

He reached his library and put a hand
on the knob, then stopped still because he heard Callie’s voice.
Frowning, irked that she’d invaded his brooding room, he
listened.

“ ‘
After stopping in
Amsterdam for several months, the British Pilgrims set sail for the
Americas, landing in what came to be called Plymouth, in
Massachusetts, in 1620.’ ”

Aubrey’s heart stopped for a second,
then started careening in his chest. A rage as red as blood rushed
over him and receded into an icy lump. He’d heard those same words
often in the past, but he’d never expected to hear them again.
Hearing them now, read by Miss Callida Prophet, made him want to
hit something.

When he entered the room and saw
Callie, sunlight streaming through the window and glinting off her
strawberry-blond hair, and Becky curled up cozily in her lap, he
felt as if he’d been struck by lightning.

The feeling lasted approximately
fifteen seconds, after which rage engulfed him again, much as if
he’d been the victim of spontaneous combustion. “What the devil are
you doing?”

Callie and Becky had both been
engrossed in the story of the Pilgrims in Plymouth, and jumped as
if the same bolt of lightning that had recently struck Aubrey had
then changed direction and struck them.

“
Papal” Becky exclaimed, her
blue eyes huge.

“
Mr. Lockhart!”

Callie looked thunderstruck for about
a tenth of a second, before fury overtook her alarm. Her arm went
around Becky, and she gave the little girl a comforting
hug.

Aubrey was too shaken to care that
he’d frightened his daughter. He resented Callie daring to usurp a
position as comforter to Becky. He resented everything about her.
He wanted her to go away. When he’d heard Callie reading the same
book Anne used to read, and had then seen her in the same chair
Anne used to sit in, holding Becky in exactly the same way Anne
used to do, all of his common sense had fled. The only thing he
wanted from Callie was that she leave his room and his
life.

“
Get out of here.” His voice
shook with rage. He couldn’t help it.

“
Well!” Callie closed the
book with a snap and, lifting Becky in her arms, stood up. “I guess
we’d best take our reading elsewhere, sweetheart.”

“
Papa?”

Becky looked scared. As well she
might, Aubrey thought with a sudden jolt of pain. He passed a hand
over his face, beginning to understand how irrational his reaction
had been, even if it had been unintentional.