The Proposal (5 page)

“When is Thomas coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where did they go?”

“To a park.”

“Do you think we can go, James, do you think?”

“No, Penny. I don’t know where the park is.”

Outside the window, another man walked by. He had a dog on a leash.

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know,” James said, his voice growing a bit testy.

Penny turned to frown at him, and both children heard the door. Still in his riding togs, Thomas entered.

“Here you are,” Thomas said. “I thought you might be in the yard.”

“We were,” James began and then told the story.

Thomas was just as tempted as James had been to react to Penny’s crying over a torn dress, but he kept the thoughts to himself.

“Where did you ride, Thomas?” James wished to know, and both the younger Jenningses sat quietly while Thomas explained his outing.

“Will James ride sometime?” Penny asked.

“I don’t know, Pen. I hope so.”

“Did Mr Jennings say anything about my riding, Thomas?”

“No, but he seems a fair man, James,” Thomas told him, hoping it was true. “I think he’ll invite you sometime.”

Thomas slipped into the dressing room to change from his riding clothes, his young heart trying to deal with all the changes while still in the midst of mourning.

“Oh, Papa,” he whispered ever so softly, “I miss you so.”

“This is Mrs Smith,” Jennings said for the second time just two days later. The first introduction had been to Bates and Mr Collins. Now the children were meeting Penny’s nanny.

“She’s going to stay with you, Penny, and be your nanny.”

James’ face showed his surprise, Thomas’ expression was utterly unreadable, and Penny was frozen with fear. She had had a nanny at home, but that lady, a Mrs Beesley, had been rosy-cheeked and smiling. This woman was serious. Mrs Beesley had been young. The bun at the back of Mrs Smith’s head was iron gray.

“You’ll be moving into the nursery, Penny, and Mrs Smith will have the room that adjoins yours.” Jennings turned to the boys with a smile, completely missing the children’s response. “You boys will have the bedroom all to yourselves.”

Thomas waited for their cousin to ask how that sounded, or if everyone thought this a grand idea, but no question was voiced.

“Come along, Penny,” Mrs Smith said calmly, and Thomas tried to relax. She didn’t sound shrewish and could have been anyone’s grandmother, but Penny’s face was hard to ignore. She did as she was told, but Thomas’ last glimpse of his sister told him she was afraid.

“Well, now, boys,” Jennings said, wasting no time. “I have some things to show you in my study. Do you like maps?”

The boys loved maps—they were captivated by them, just as their father had been. James wondered if such an interest could run in the family. As for Thomas, questions about where Mrs Smith had come from and what their sister’s schedule would look like were voiced only in his mind. With a chance for little more than a glance toward the stairs where they’d last seen their sister and her new nanny, the boys followed Jennings into the study, where he shut the door on the rest of the house.

“Now, Penny,” Mrs Smith said in her quiet voice—they had just arrived in the nursery, a room Penny had not known existed—“I don’t like noisy little children. Do you know how to be a quiet little girl?”

Penny nodded, her eyes huge and sober.

“I’m so glad,” Mrs Smith praised her. “I don’t want to be forced to punish you.”

Penny couldn’t stop the trembling that started in her limbs, but she made no sound.

“I’m going into my room to get settled. You stay in here and play, and I’ll check on you later. Do you understand?”

Penny nodded.

“Answer me, Penny.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the little girl managed in a very soft voice.

Mrs Smith turned away, a contented smile on her face. She was too old to chase unruly children, but she needed this job. The fear she’d seen on her charge’s small face told her this little girl would be no trouble to control. And that worked just fine for Mrs Smith’s achy back and legs.

“I feel funny about Penny,” James admitted to his brother when they climbed into separate beds that night.

“Yes, I do too.”

“Why didn’t we see her at dinner or lunch?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know where the nursery is, but if you remember, Mrs Beesley often ate with us in our nursery.”

“Do you think Penny will be in the garden in the morning?”

“I don’t know, James. I don’t even know if we’ll be in the garden in the morning. Try to sleep.”

The room was quiet for a time, but James did not sleep. After several minutes, he spoke again.

“I’m afraid, Thomas.”

“Of what?”

“I’m afraid Mr Jennings will make us leave.”

“Why would he do that?”

“What if we don’t do as he says? What if he decides he doesn’t like us?”

Thomas had no answer. It didn’t seem as though Mr Jennings had hard feelings toward them; indeed, he seemed to accept them into his home with amazing ease. But it was also very clear that he was a man who liked having his own way. Thomas had no desire to be uncharitable in his assessment. After all, Jennings had given them a home almost sight unseen, but something was not right in this situation, and Thomas had yet to place his finger on it.

“Try to sleep, James,” Thomas said again, not sure what answer to give his brother. He was so tired of feeling like a parent when at twelve he so desperately needed one himself.

“I will, Thomas, but I think we need to do everything Mr Jennings says. I think we need to obey at all times, so he doesn’t boot us out.”

Thomas did not attempt to reply to this. As he’d been doing every night before he fell asleep, he prayed and asked God to help him. But this night’s prayers for himself were brief. His sister heavy on his mind, he prayed that Penny would be all right and not missing them too much.

“Where are you going, Penny?” Mrs Smith asked the next morning, causing the little girl to jump and turn in surprise. Penny backed against the door she’d been reaching for but didn’t answer her nanny.

“Come here, Penny,” Mrs Smith said, her voice not as nice or soft.

Penny told herself to move but couldn’t quite manage the act. She wanted to speak, but Mrs Smith’s face had begun to look cross.

“Come here, Penny,” she ordered, and this time Penny managed to move. It must not have been fast enough, however, since Mrs Smith covered the distance and took her upper arm in a harsh grip. Squeezing hard and holding Penny’s arm at an awkward angle, she marched her back into the middle of the room before giving her a hard shake.

“You will come when I tell you, and you will leave the nursery when I tell you. Not before. Do I make myself clear?”

Penny nodded, but Mrs Smith shook her again.

“Answer me!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Finally released, Penny stood looking up at her nanny, afraid to speak or move.

“Come now.” Mrs Smith’s voice was soft again. “You must eat your breakfast.”

Tears filled Penny’s eyes. She was supposed to eat in the dining room with Thomas and James. Didn’t Mrs Smith know that?

“What’s the matter?” Mrs Smith, seeing the tears, inquired. Her voice didn’t sound angry, but with more strength than necessary she took Penny’s arm again and marched her to the small table by the window.

“Sit here. I’ll bring your food.”

Penny rubbed her arm as her nanny went toward the tray, but she didn’t speak or try to go toward the nursery door again. A noise from the street pulled her attention to the window, and she looked that way. She watched a man and lady walking together under an umbrella. They had a little dog. Penny looked down at the pup. He was cute, but not even the sight of him could take her mind from the pain of her arm.

“Do they go out at all?” Cook asked Megan, her brow lowered in irritation. The dough she was working on was taking a severe beating.

“Not that I know of,” Megan replied, working on a cup of tea and some biscuits. “How many days has it been?”

“Three! She’s not even friendly when she comes down here, and I haven’t seen so much as a peek of Miss Penny! Doesn’t the old bat know that little girls need fresh air?”

“Clearly not. I told her Miss Penny was welcome in the kitchen and that you had a cookie for her, but I was told that Miss Penny had had enough sweets.”

Cook snorted in anger. “With the spread of that old girl’s hips, she’s probably eatin’ both puddings!”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.”

The kitchen was silent for a time, save for the pounding of Cook’s fists and the soft clatter of Megan’s cup on the saucer. The silence lasted for some time. In fact, Megan was pouring herself another cup when Cook suddenly joined her at the table.

“I’ll tell you what,” Cook said, her voice dropping in a conspiratorial manner, but before she could continue, Mr Collins came on the scene.

“Cook, Mr Jennings would like the dinner hour moved. He and the boys have gone riding and will be returning late.”

“What time?” Cook said, rising to check her bread dough.

As Mr Collins gave the updated time, Megan went back to her duties. She hadn’t heard what Cook’s plan had been concerning Penny and Mrs Smith, but that was probably for the best. They both enjoyed working for Mr Jennings, and neither one wanted to lose her job.