Read Online Dorothy Eden by Lady of Mallow - Free Book Online Page B

asked. She discovered that Titus spoke only when spoken to, and then in shy monosyllables.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Then that’s very exciting, isn’t it? Have you any toys you want to take?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘But don’t you have toys you like best? Didn’t you have any in Trinidad?’
    ‘I had José then.’
    ‘Who was José?’
    ‘He was a black boy.’
    The sparse information showed Sarah another side to Titus’s quietness. Had his father, in his ambitious gamble, stopped to give one thought to this minor tragedy it entailed? His son had lost a favourite playmate. He had not yet learned to play with an English child’s toys. Well, there could be the rocking horse and the toy soldiers, and the pony. At least this part of her job, Sarah promised herself fiercely, she would do honestly.
    ‘Good night, Titus. Sleep well. Shall I leave the candle for a little while?’
    The large dark eyes looked up at her beseechingly. She realised that neither Annie nor anyone else had pampered this weakness. The nervous little stranger to English nurseries had been left to go to sleep in the dark.
    ‘All right. I won’t blow it out,’ she promised. ‘Are we going to be friends, Titus?’
    ‘Why don’t you call me Georgie?’
    Sarah’s heart missed a beat.
    ‘Why should I do that? Is that what’—she made a guess—‘José used to call you?’
    ‘Yes. And Mamma, too. When I was a baby.’
    ‘But when you came to England she called you Titus?’
    ‘She said Georgie was a baby name.’
    ‘And Papa used to call you Georgie, too?’
    The little boy looked puzzled. ‘I think he called me Titus. When he came back from the sea.’
    ‘Was he away at the sea a long time?’
    ‘Ever so long. But Mamma says he won’t go to sea again. And I have to be called Titus because that was my grandpapa’s name.’
    ‘It’s a good name,’ Sarah said. (It was the family name that she would inevitably call her own son. In the meantime, she must not grudge it to this innocent little usurper.)
    But already she had significant entries to make in her diary.
    It seemed that she was not to see Blane Mallow that night. A very young maid brought her her supper tray.
    ‘Thank you,’ said Sarah pleasantly. ‘Are you to travel with us tomorrow?’
    ‘No, ma’am. I’m to stay here with Mrs Robbins.’
    ‘Who’s Mrs Robbins?’
    ‘The housekeeper, ma’am.’
    ‘Oh. And what’s your name?’
    ‘Lucy, ma’am.’
    ‘You’re very young. Is this your first position ?’
    ‘Yes, ma’am. I’m just fourteen.’
    ‘I hope Mrs Robbins is kind to you.’
    ‘Oh, yes, she’s all right. And when the master and mistress isn’t here—’ Lucy clapped her hand to her mouth, aghast at what she had been going to blurt out to a stranger.
    ‘You can tell me, Lucy. I don’t mind what Mrs Robbins does when she’s alone. After all, she’s left in complete charge of the house so she’s her own mistress, isn’t she?’
    ‘Yes, I suppose she is. Well, it’s just that she’s easy-going, ma’am. Ever so kind, but’ll turn a blind eye if it suits her.’
    Lucy was blushing deeply, and Sarah was left to guess what Mrs Robbins’s particular easy-going habit was, men or the gin bottle. Like a magpie gathering treasure, she tucked the piece of information away in her mind.
    ‘What time is dinner downstairs, Lucy?’
    ‘Eight o’clock, ma’am.’
    ‘Thank you, Lucy. You may go.’
    Lucy, who was too young and inexperienced to be disdainful about having to wait on a mere governess, departed. Sarah set her supper tray on one side and tiptoed to the door of her room to open it a crack and listen. Almost at once she heard the dinner gong, and a few minutes later the heavy tread of Lady Malvina, followed by the lighter footsteps of Amalie, on the stairs. Blane must have been downstairs already, for although she waited, scarcely breathing, at the door for another ten minutes there was no more sound.
    It did not take long to discover which rooms, on the first