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Authors: Kimberly Truesdale
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silly children, I would be happy to accompany you.” They rushed to her and clung to every limb. Hetty thought they might have hoisted her on their shoulders and paraded around the house if they had been bigger.
“Hetty, once the children leave you alone for a moment, would you pen a brief response to Mr. Henderson? You're already there near the writing supplies anyway. Tell him the children will come only if he agrees to come to dinner here tomorrow night.”
“Of course, Agatha. Annabella, would you like to come to?” Hetty thought it might be a nice treat for the girl after being house bound with her illness.
“Oh no, madam,” Annabella protested. “I will be quite happy to stay here and help with the mending.”
“Excellent,” Agatha smiled. “Then, children, you shall have your treat. Make sure to thank your aunt. And make sure you thank Mr. Henderson when you see him. He is a very kind man for thinking of you.”
The children agreed and squeezed their beloved aunt tighter.
Chapter Six
“ I S EVERYONE BUNDLED up tightly?” Hetty surveyed her nieces and nephews, checking for coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. The air was cold with the feel of snow which had not yet broken.
Hetty knelt down to help Vincent with his heavy scarf. He protested. “It's either the scarf or you stay here while we go.” The young boy reluctantly submitted to the indignity.
With winter kits all in place, they struck out for the castle. The boys ran ahead of them, whooping with glee.
“Aunt Hetty, have you ever seen a real castle?” Margaret asked.
“I have, indeed,” Hetty confirmed.
The girl's eyes went wide. “You have ? What was it like?”
Hetty described the castles in London, telling the girls – the boys had already run well ahead of them by now – about how the castles looked and what she had heard that lords and ladies did in the king's court.
“Have you ever met the King?” Agnes asked, her eyes as wide as her sister's.
“No, I have not had that privilege. I do not have any special title to be able to meet him. But I have seen him from a distance. That was before he was king, though, back when he was just a prince.”
“So is Mr. Henderson a prince because he lives in a castle?” young Harriet asked.
“It's not a real castle, silly,” Vanessa chided her sister. Harriet looked hurt, so Hetty stepped in.
“Princes can live anywhere they want to, Harriet,” she reassured the young girl. “I do not know if we shall meet a prince at Mr. Henderson's house. Perhaps he has one hidden away somewhere. We shall have to keep our eyes open.”
“So what makes a prince, if it's not because he lives in a castle?” Harriet pursued.
“Hmm... well, a prince is the son of a king or a queen. But I think a prince is any man who acts in a gentlemanly way. A man is a prince if he cares about someone besides himself and tries his best to help all people.”
Harriet seemed to be satisfied with this explanation and drifted on ahead, lost in her own daydreams. Hetty had a little pang of regret. Maybe she did tell the children too many fairy tales. By the broad definition she had just given, Harriet might believe there were many more princes in the world than there actually were. The poor girl might even fall for a man like Barry Dungworth as Hetty had all those years ago... He had seemed like a prince at the house party they'd been at but then he'd disappeared in a very unprincely way. Hetty's embarrassment still haunted her.
“We're here! We're here!” She heard the boys shout from far ahead of them. Hetty hurried to catch them up, but the boys were already running across the yard and toward the front door.
Hetty paused for a moment to take in the sight. It had been years since she'd been here. The Armstrongs had moved out at least five years before, choosing to stay mostly in the smaller resort towns. It had been bruited about that they were forced to retrench due to some bad investments, though Hetty
“Hetty, once the children leave you alone for a moment, would you pen a brief response to Mr. Henderson? You're already there near the writing supplies anyway. Tell him the children will come only if he agrees to come to dinner here tomorrow night.”
“Of course, Agatha. Annabella, would you like to come to?” Hetty thought it might be a nice treat for the girl after being house bound with her illness.
“Oh no, madam,” Annabella protested. “I will be quite happy to stay here and help with the mending.”
“Excellent,” Agatha smiled. “Then, children, you shall have your treat. Make sure to thank your aunt. And make sure you thank Mr. Henderson when you see him. He is a very kind man for thinking of you.”
The children agreed and squeezed their beloved aunt tighter.
Chapter Six
“ I S EVERYONE BUNDLED up tightly?” Hetty surveyed her nieces and nephews, checking for coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. The air was cold with the feel of snow which had not yet broken.
Hetty knelt down to help Vincent with his heavy scarf. He protested. “It's either the scarf or you stay here while we go.” The young boy reluctantly submitted to the indignity.
With winter kits all in place, they struck out for the castle. The boys ran ahead of them, whooping with glee.
“Aunt Hetty, have you ever seen a real castle?” Margaret asked.
“I have, indeed,” Hetty confirmed.
The girl's eyes went wide. “You have ? What was it like?”
Hetty described the castles in London, telling the girls – the boys had already run well ahead of them by now – about how the castles looked and what she had heard that lords and ladies did in the king's court.
“Have you ever met the King?” Agnes asked, her eyes as wide as her sister's.
“No, I have not had that privilege. I do not have any special title to be able to meet him. But I have seen him from a distance. That was before he was king, though, back when he was just a prince.”
“So is Mr. Henderson a prince because he lives in a castle?” young Harriet asked.
“It's not a real castle, silly,” Vanessa chided her sister. Harriet looked hurt, so Hetty stepped in.
“Princes can live anywhere they want to, Harriet,” she reassured the young girl. “I do not know if we shall meet a prince at Mr. Henderson's house. Perhaps he has one hidden away somewhere. We shall have to keep our eyes open.”
“So what makes a prince, if it's not because he lives in a castle?” Harriet pursued.
“Hmm... well, a prince is the son of a king or a queen. But I think a prince is any man who acts in a gentlemanly way. A man is a prince if he cares about someone besides himself and tries his best to help all people.”
Harriet seemed to be satisfied with this explanation and drifted on ahead, lost in her own daydreams. Hetty had a little pang of regret. Maybe she did tell the children too many fairy tales. By the broad definition she had just given, Harriet might believe there were many more princes in the world than there actually were. The poor girl might even fall for a man like Barry Dungworth as Hetty had all those years ago... He had seemed like a prince at the house party they'd been at but then he'd disappeared in a very unprincely way. Hetty's embarrassment still haunted her.
“We're here! We're here!” She heard the boys shout from far ahead of them. Hetty hurried to catch them up, but the boys were already running across the yard and toward the front door.
Hetty paused for a moment to take in the sight. It had been years since she'd been here. The Armstrongs had moved out at least five years before, choosing to stay mostly in the smaller resort towns. It had been bruited about that they were forced to retrench due to some bad investments, though Hetty
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