Nina Coombs Pykare (12 page)

She tried to smile reassuringly. “Yes, I am quite sure, milord. It was simply a matter of being frightened. That is all. I’m fine now, really.”

The earl shook his head, his eyes dark with worry. “I can’t understand how such a thing happened.”

A smug look spread across Lady Leonore’s face. “It is dangerous for her here. I told you that. But you wouldn’t listen to me.”

“The world is a dangerous place,” Edwina said with a slight smile. Would the earl remember their previous conversation? Would he remember that she quite literally had no place else to go? If it were not for the presence of Lady Leonore, Edwina would have reminded him herself, reiterating the stark facts of her situation, a situation in which even this castle—curse and all—was a refuge. But pride kept her silent, kept her from begging to keep her position. Even a pauper might hesitate to ask for mercy in front of such an obviously uncompassionate creature as Lady Leonore.

An expression of sympathy crossed the earl’s face. Edwina swallowed a sigh. Maybe he understood something of her position. “It is dangerous for you here,” he repeated, though in a less forceful tone than Lady Leonore had used. “I strongly advise you to consider leaving the castle as soon as possible.”

Edwina shook her head. “I have considered that, milord, really I have. My decision is to stay. I have made a commitment to your daughters. For me to leave now would be very bad for them.”

Charles swallowed a curse and looked down at the resolute young woman before him. Her rumpled dress had been brushed free of dirt—or as free as she could get it—and her hair, now down, had been confined with a ribbon. From her face one would never guess she’d so nearly escaped death—she looked little different than she had last night, well, perhaps a little better now that she’d eaten. Her sea-green eyes gazed up at him earnestly and her chin was thrust out in stubborn determination. Clearly the chit meant to stay here no matter what.

But that didn’t surprise him. He’d known she was stubborn, known she was determined. Still ... To have a stone fall like that, so close ... But it hadn’t frightened her, at least not enough to make her leave the castle.

He suppressed a sigh. It was beyond his comprehension that any young woman, even this admittedly difficult recalcitrant one, should wish to stay on in a place where she was in danger. Had she no concern for herself, for her safety? Even if she already loved the girls, which given her tenderhearted nature he was willing enough to concede, she ought to take more thought for herself.

Of course, she had nowhere to go—and no funds to go with. She had made that abundantly clear, to him at least. But still ...

“Charles? Charles, dear?” Leonore pulled petulantly at his sleeve. He wished she wouldn’t lean all over him. The scent she wore was so strong it made his stomach roil. He wished she’d go back to London, but he didn’t know how to tell her that without offending her. She was Catherine’s sister, after all, and she’d stayed on so she could help him.

“Yes, Leonore?”

She pulled his head down and whispered in his ear. He frowned in consternation. Leonore could be stubborn too, especially in matters like this. But perhaps in this case she was right.

He turned to the new governess. “Miss Pierce, are you quite sure the children will be safe outdoors?”

Miss Pierce smiled slightly. “In this world, milord, one can be quite sure of very little. However, accidents may befall your daughters inside the castle as well as outside it. I am sure that keeping them practically locked up is bad for them. For their minds and their bodies.”

“I disagree,” Leonore said in tones of ice. “My sister and I were seldom permitted outside. It’s entirely unladylike to gambol about in the sunshine, as noisy as hoydens and becoming all freckled. You are doing the children a great disservice by allowing them to behave in this outrageous fashion. They will not grow up to be ladies.”

He remembered Catherine, never going outside, even to the parapet, without her bonnet. Her pale skin burned so easily. Her lovely pale skin that was such a contrast to her jet black hair and the dark pansy eyes that--

“If I might respectfully suggest, milord.” Miss Pierce’s voice was even enough, but he heard the undertone of irritation. He even understood it. Leonore always acted so superior, so positive she was right. To an equal she could be very trying. And to an inferior she could be—and usually was—downright rude.

Now Miss Pierce said, “It is my understanding that Lady Catherine was very delicate.”

“Yes, she was, very delicate.” And so beautiful, so loving, so very--

She nodded. “I would impute that, in part at least, milord, to her mother’s method of upbringing. Henrietta, especially, needs exercise and fresh air in order to develop a constitution that can withstand illness. If you keep her locked up as you have, she will only get sicker.”

He stared at her in surprise. The thought had never occurred to him. “Do you mean to suggest to me that fresh air and sunshine could save Henrietta from suffering overwrought nerves like her mother did?”

Miss Pierce nodded in satisfaction, her eyes bright. “Yes, milord, that is precisely what I mean.”

He pondered this. She seemed so certain, so sure of her facts. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore, except that he missed Catherine, needed her, wanted her. “It may be so,” he said finally. “I just do not know.”

“Charles!” Leonore’s anger was barely restrained, her eyes blazed with it. Why couldn’t she be more like Catherine? He didn’t like anger, didn’t like seeing Leonore, or any woman, angry. Besides, Leonore had no right to glare at him. He was the lord of this castle. But Leonore wasn’t thinking of that. She scowled at him and cried, “You must send this creature away from here. You must!”

Stubbornly, he shook his head. Leonore was not going to dictate to him. He might have let her handle some things before. But no more. He was still the earl. He was still in charge. “I cannot do that, Leonore. The girls need Miss Pierce. I have told her plainly that she may leave here any time she wishes. No more than that can I do.”

Leonore opened her mouth, no doubt to remonstrate with him again, but he raised a weary hand. “No more, Leonore! No more! I don’t wish to hear another word about the matter.”

Edwina smiled to herself. There was more to the earl than the brooding melancholic man she’d first encountered. In anger the earl was a formidable man, most impressive. And he had defended her, quite ably in fact, had not allowed Lady Leonore to send her away. So she was safe here, for the time being at least. As safe as she could be in a castle with a curse.

If only, she thought, allowing the viscount to seat her at table, if only the earl could summon some of that anger to fight off his grief instead of meekly giving in to it. Perhaps ...

* * * *

The next morning, Edwina had made up her mind. The earl must be made to see that his daughters needed him. If she failed in this difficult task, and lost her position, then so be it. She could not in good conscience do any less.

“Come girls,” she said, going to wake them. “It’s time to go to breakfast. After we’ve eaten I have a special treat for you.”

Constance roused instantly, a smile on her little face. “Is it the sea? Are we going to the sea?”

“Not today,” Edwina said. “But soon.”

“Then what is it?”

“First we’ll eat breakfast, then I’ll tell you. Come Henrietta, chose a pretty frock. I want you to look your nicest.”

Breakfast was a rather ragtag affair. Constance was so excited over the surprise that she gave little thought to her food and Henrietta continued in her atmosphere of gloom. Edwina sighed. Her own appetite was none too good, but food should not be wasted, never wasted, and she cleaned her plate even though her stomach wanted to protest.

After Constance had managed to eat something and Henrietta had pushed her half-empty plate away, Edwina got to her feet. “Now we’re going to have our surprise. Come, give me each a hand.”

Constance came running to her side immediately. Henrietta, of course, was slower. But she did put her hand in Edwina’s. Now, Edwina thought, pray God this thing worked. That her plan went the way she hoped so that these poor children were not made even more miserable by her efforts.

She started down the hall toward the library, a child on each side.

“Where are we going?” Henrietta demanded, pulling back.

“This way,” Edwina said, her heart threatening to choke her. “Down this hall.”

“Papa’s library is down this hall,” Constance said. “We haven’t gone this way since before--” She swallowed and fell silent, but she didn’t pull back.

Edwina kept walking till she came to the library door. Henrietta looked up at her in dismay. “Miss Pierce, you aren’t, we can’t ...”

“We can,” Edwina said firmly, putting a good face on it. “And we are. We’re going to see your father. We’re going to invite him to join us on our trip to the sea. You’d like that—if he went with us—wouldn’t you?”

Constance nodded. “Yes, Miss Pierce.”

Henrietta tried to pull her hand free, but Edwina held tightly to it. “Constance,” she said. “Will you kindly knock on the door?”

Constance’s little face was pale and frightened looking, but she nodded and raised a small hand. “Yes, Miss Pierce.”

Her first tap was barely audible. “A little louder please,” Edwina said.

“Yes, Miss Pierce.” Constance squared her shoulders and rapped briskly on the door.

“Come in.”

Practically dragging the girls after her, Edwina pushed into the room. The earl had his back to the door, but he turned. “Who-- What are you doing here?”

“G-Good morning, Papa.” Constance’s fingers trembled in Edwina’s hand, but her voice was steady. “Papa, we have come to ask you on an outing and-- We have--”

“He isn’t going to come with us,” Henrietta interrupted, years of suffering evident in her childish voice. “You know that. So does Miss Pierce.”

Charles looked at his daughters. They both looked frightened half to death. Miss Pierce looked little better. What on earth had convinced her to come knocking on his door like this? Dragging his daughters into it.

“Miss Pierce is going to take us to the ocean,” Constance went on. He recognized the quaver in her voice that revealed she was really frightened. Where Henrietta clammed up when she was afraid, the little one chattered on and on, unable to stop, though her bottom lip was trembling. “She promised,” Constance went on. “Miss Pierce is good to us. She keeps her promises. So Papa, will you go? It would be so much fun and--” She finally stumbled to a halt.

If he’d had any doubts about Miss Pierce’s claims before, he had now to recognize their truth. He had woefully neglected his daughters. Catherine would have never allowed such a thing to happen. “Come in,” he said, trying to sound welcoming. “Let’s sit down and discuss a good day for our trip.”

“You’ll go! You’ll really go?” Constance dropped Miss Pierce’s hand and ran to throw herself into his arms, almost knocking him over in her joy. “Oh, Papa. I’ve missed you so much.” She burrowed against him. “It’s been just awful.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, and the words were not just words. He dropped into a chair and settled the child in his lap. Then he looked to her sister. “Come, Henrietta. Don’t you want a hug too?”

His eldest daughter looked at him with eyes that tore at his heart, eyes so like her mother’s that he wanted to cry out in his pain. “I am too old for hugs,” she said coldly. “But it is good to see you, Papa. I hope you are well.”

Well. His heart had been broken, his life torn to shreds. He had deserted his children and only now realized the damage he’d done them. “Yes,” he said, casting a look at Miss Pierce. “I am well. Now, when is a good day to go to the seashore?”

Constance tugged impatiently at his sleeve. “Papa?”

He looked down. “Yes, dear?”

“Miss Pierce said maybe you would eat breakfast with us now that we’re coming downstairs.” She stared up at him with pleading eyes. “Would you, Papa? Would you eat breakfast with us? It would be very nice. We could see you every morning. Like we used to.”

A sigh came from somewhere deep within him, but he knew he couldn’t refuse her, this child who needed him so much. “Yes, Constance. I’ll be joining you for breakfast from now on.”

Edwina’s heart pounded for joy. Never in her wildest imaginings had she hoped for an outcome like this! Breakfast every morning and the trip to the seashore. God had been very good.

A little shiver sped over her. The ghost! What would Lady Catherine’s ghost think of this? Would she be angry? But there was no ghost. No ghost at all.

Chapter Thirteen

Edwina spent another restless night. Not because of Lady Catherine’s ghost or the memory of falling stones, but because the earl had promised, definitely promised, to be present at the breakfast table, to take the morning meal with his daughters.

Constance was awake at first light, standing by the poster bed, rousing Edwina from the sleep she’d finally managed to fall into. “Miss Pierce! Miss Pierce! Wake up! It’s morning! It’s time to get up!”

Edwina opened her eyes and squinted at the clock. “Constance, it’s too early to get up.”

“But Miss Pierce, Papa’s coming to breakfast with us! Papa!”

Edwina smiled. It looked like the little girl hadn’t slept much either. “I know, dear. But he won’t come till our usual time.”

The child’s face fell. “Is that long? I do so want to see him. I’ve been thinking and thinking about it. All night long.”

“I know.” Edwina pulled aside the covers. “Why don’t you climb in here with me and wait?”

Constance grinned and scrambled into the bed, tucking her icy feet against Edwina. “Oh Miss Pierce, you’re so nice. I wish Papa would have found you sooner.”

Edwina didn’t try to explain that it was she who had found Papa. She just put an arm around the little girl and said, “I wish so too. Now let’s rest a little.”

A little was all they rested, and finally they made their way down the great stairs to the breakfast room. It had taken a lot of discussion to convince Constance that they couldn’t just go wake her Papa and tell him they were having breakfast early. But the minutes had passed, long as they were, and finally, dressed in their favorites frocks, the girls were on their way to breakfast with their Papa.