Sherlock. Christmas Presents. A Christmas tree? Decorations? Please tell me you’ve got something for her to open in the morning.”
“Presents? Ye mean gifts ?” He looked horrified.
The guy really was terrified of dropping the whole ‘daddy’ ball wasn’t he? Well, it served him right if he hadn’t planned to do something special for the girl for Christmas, even if he’d only been a daddy for a day.
“Know ye what the child might be hoping for?” He tried to sound demanding, like he could bully her into helping him, but it was that intense brogue that proved how rattled he was.
She tried not to smile. “Well, hmn. I don’t know. I suppose if I could use sign language, and if she understood sign language, I could ask her. But not in here. I won’t help you so long as you keep me in here.”
He took a step toward the door and held out an arm to let her go ahead of him. She plopped her butt back down on the bed. He closed his eyes. When his lips moved, she guessed he was praying for patience. It was kind of heady, this ability to control someone else’s emotions. No wonder David kept her around for so long, for someone to toy with.
Bree promised herself, then and there, that unless her safety or her freedom was at stake, she would only use her new super powers for good. She tried really hard not to giggle as she hopped to her feet and hurried out the door.
* * *
They found the girl dancing around in a room that looked like an ancient nursery. She was wearing the little grey dress and black lace-up boots McKinnon had taken from the bedroom. Her clothes looked as much like a costume as her daddy’s and Bree realized it must be the way people dressed in the Highlands. With how cold it was, maybe they had to pay more attention to warmth than style. Still, the child would have looked less like an urchin if McKinnon added a little pink to her wardrobe. There was a little black dress still hanging on a hook in the bedroom and Bree was afraid that was all the kid had.
All the toys looked hand made. There were three little beds and a cradle, all hand-carved and without mattresses. It was the kind of place you’d expect to be haunted by the ghosts of children. The thought made Bree shiver.
The girl didn’t seem to notice she was no longer alone, so Bree opened her mouth to call out her name. Then she realized she didn’t know it.
“McKinnon, what is the girl’s name?”
He glanced at the floor, then looked away. “I call her Cherub.”
“Surely that’s not her real name.”
“I was never given her name. The nurse disappeared before I could ask. Not unlike your coachman.” He was daring her to disbelieve him, she guessed.
Bree whistled. The girl turned to her immediately, those little blue eyes wide with wonder. Had she never heard a whistle before?
Each interaction with the child had Bree more and more convinced that her inability to speak was more of an emotional issue than a physical one, especially considering the child was able to hear normally. And if Bree wasn’t able to help the child before she escaped the McKinnon Loony Bin, she’d make sure Pseudo Daddy knew how to get the kid the help she would need.
And some pink outfits.
“Hey, pumpkin!” Bree gave her a big smile.
McKinnon grunted. She ignored him.
“I think it is time you told me your name,” she said, both with her voice and her hands. Although the girl could hear, she would be more at ease, signing, if she weren’t the only one doing it.
The girl shrugged her shoulders and started dancing again.
Bree caught her shoulder and shook her head. Then signed and spoke again, showing her the signs that went along with the words. “My name is Bree.” She signed the letters slowly. The girl copied her.
“Very good! You’re so clever! You learn so quickly.” Again she added the signs to what she said. “Your...name...is...” She left the words hanging, hoping the girl would finish.
Then little Miss Cherub signed, I have
“Presents? Ye mean gifts ?” He looked horrified.
The guy really was terrified of dropping the whole ‘daddy’ ball wasn’t he? Well, it served him right if he hadn’t planned to do something special for the girl for Christmas, even if he’d only been a daddy for a day.
“Know ye what the child might be hoping for?” He tried to sound demanding, like he could bully her into helping him, but it was that intense brogue that proved how rattled he was.
She tried not to smile. “Well, hmn. I don’t know. I suppose if I could use sign language, and if she understood sign language, I could ask her. But not in here. I won’t help you so long as you keep me in here.”
He took a step toward the door and held out an arm to let her go ahead of him. She plopped her butt back down on the bed. He closed his eyes. When his lips moved, she guessed he was praying for patience. It was kind of heady, this ability to control someone else’s emotions. No wonder David kept her around for so long, for someone to toy with.
Bree promised herself, then and there, that unless her safety or her freedom was at stake, she would only use her new super powers for good. She tried really hard not to giggle as she hopped to her feet and hurried out the door.
* * *
They found the girl dancing around in a room that looked like an ancient nursery. She was wearing the little grey dress and black lace-up boots McKinnon had taken from the bedroom. Her clothes looked as much like a costume as her daddy’s and Bree realized it must be the way people dressed in the Highlands. With how cold it was, maybe they had to pay more attention to warmth than style. Still, the child would have looked less like an urchin if McKinnon added a little pink to her wardrobe. There was a little black dress still hanging on a hook in the bedroom and Bree was afraid that was all the kid had.
All the toys looked hand made. There were three little beds and a cradle, all hand-carved and without mattresses. It was the kind of place you’d expect to be haunted by the ghosts of children. The thought made Bree shiver.
The girl didn’t seem to notice she was no longer alone, so Bree opened her mouth to call out her name. Then she realized she didn’t know it.
“McKinnon, what is the girl’s name?”
He glanced at the floor, then looked away. “I call her Cherub.”
“Surely that’s not her real name.”
“I was never given her name. The nurse disappeared before I could ask. Not unlike your coachman.” He was daring her to disbelieve him, she guessed.
Bree whistled. The girl turned to her immediately, those little blue eyes wide with wonder. Had she never heard a whistle before?
Each interaction with the child had Bree more and more convinced that her inability to speak was more of an emotional issue than a physical one, especially considering the child was able to hear normally. And if Bree wasn’t able to help the child before she escaped the McKinnon Loony Bin, she’d make sure Pseudo Daddy knew how to get the kid the help she would need.
And some pink outfits.
“Hey, pumpkin!” Bree gave her a big smile.
McKinnon grunted. She ignored him.
“I think it is time you told me your name,” she said, both with her voice and her hands. Although the girl could hear, she would be more at ease, signing, if she weren’t the only one doing it.
The girl shrugged her shoulders and started dancing again.
Bree caught her shoulder and shook her head. Then signed and spoke again, showing her the signs that went along with the words. “My name is Bree.” She signed the letters slowly. The girl copied her.
“Very good! You’re so clever! You learn so quickly.” Again she added the signs to what she said. “Your...name...is...” She left the words hanging, hoping the girl would finish.
Then little Miss Cherub signed, I have
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