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Authors: Elena Greene
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imagine where a child might go to hide.
She opened her eyes again. “I think I know where they have gone. There is no need to raise a stir just yet. Sir Jeremy, if you allow me some time I shall bring them back to you.”
“I am coming along.”
She nodded, unsurprised. Now everything depended on how she managed things; any mistake would no doubt result in all the children being removed from her care.
A few minutes later, she’d exchanged her slippers for half boots, pulled on a shawl and bonnet, and rejoined Sir Jeremy. They hurried out the French doors, sped across the terrace, then descended the steps to the garden level.
One look at his face and her stomach twisted.
“I hope—I hope you are not too angry with the children,” she said, skirting the garden wall and heading toward the lawn and the woods beyond it.
“I’m not an ogre. Why would they regard me as one?”
“I told them only that you were here for an inspection.”
She set a fast pace across the lawn; he kept up easily, his expression still stony. Her stomach clenched even as the fast pace stole her breath.
“You will not—you will not make any hasty decisions about the children, will you?” she blurted out, unable to bear the silence any longer.
She suffered a long, unblinking look.
“I never make hasty decisions.”
She bit her lip and hurried on.
“Where do you think they have gone?” he asked as they passed the Grecian folly on the edge of the woodland.
“There’s a cave,” she said, struggling for breath. “Near the eastern border of the park. About . . . ten minutes’ walk from here.”
“A cave ?”
“My grandfather had it . . . excavated. He built that folly. Later he developed a taste for…Gothic features. My father thought the cave . . . unsafe, and had it blocked up. As a child I found a way in.”
“Is there any danger?”
“I hope not. If it has not . . . collapsed in all these years . . . perhaps the roof is solid.”
She redoubled her pace and skidded over a particularly slippery patch, and would have pitched face-forward into the mud had Sir Jeremy not reached out to catch her. For a moment, he held her tightly, one arm around her shoulders, another just under her breasts. Her heart all but stopped as his large hands steadied her, their firm grasp bringing back memories of his protective embrace at the masquerade. Of their kiss. Knees shaking, she summoned up all her strength to regain her balance and pull away.
“Thank you,” she breathed, risking a look at his face.
His face was even stormier than before, but she saw no signs that he’d recognized her. A moment later he looked calmer, as if he’d forced back his anger.
“What do you intend to do when we find the children?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.
His question brought a sick taste to her mouth. How did he expect her to deal with them? She’d never beaten the children, and in fact the staff at the Hospital now used isolation in preference to physical punishment. But if Sir Jeremy was of the old school . . .
“I shall talk to them . . . of course,” she said, a sharp running pain across her chest adding to her sense of nausea. “To try . . . if I can discover why they did this. Then I must devise a suitable punishment.”
An anxious moment passed before he answered.
“I trust you do not intend anything too harsh,” he said at length.
Stunned, she turned to look at him, and her legs nearly buckled under her. He’d reddened, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He did not wish her to beat the children.
Relief brought her renewed strength. She ran up a slight rise and down into the next hollow, a lovely quiet spot in the center of the ancient woods, where drifts of bluebells released their wild-sweet scent.
Now she could see the entrance to the cave, a narrow, almost invisible gash among the tree roots, overgrown with ivy. “Philippa! Ben! Mary! Robbie!” she called.
Nothing could be heard but
She opened her eyes again. “I think I know where they have gone. There is no need to raise a stir just yet. Sir Jeremy, if you allow me some time I shall bring them back to you.”
“I am coming along.”
She nodded, unsurprised. Now everything depended on how she managed things; any mistake would no doubt result in all the children being removed from her care.
A few minutes later, she’d exchanged her slippers for half boots, pulled on a shawl and bonnet, and rejoined Sir Jeremy. They hurried out the French doors, sped across the terrace, then descended the steps to the garden level.
One look at his face and her stomach twisted.
“I hope—I hope you are not too angry with the children,” she said, skirting the garden wall and heading toward the lawn and the woods beyond it.
“I’m not an ogre. Why would they regard me as one?”
“I told them only that you were here for an inspection.”
She set a fast pace across the lawn; he kept up easily, his expression still stony. Her stomach clenched even as the fast pace stole her breath.
“You will not—you will not make any hasty decisions about the children, will you?” she blurted out, unable to bear the silence any longer.
She suffered a long, unblinking look.
“I never make hasty decisions.”
She bit her lip and hurried on.
“Where do you think they have gone?” he asked as they passed the Grecian folly on the edge of the woodland.
“There’s a cave,” she said, struggling for breath. “Near the eastern border of the park. About . . . ten minutes’ walk from here.”
“A cave ?”
“My grandfather had it . . . excavated. He built that folly. Later he developed a taste for…Gothic features. My father thought the cave . . . unsafe, and had it blocked up. As a child I found a way in.”
“Is there any danger?”
“I hope not. If it has not . . . collapsed in all these years . . . perhaps the roof is solid.”
She redoubled her pace and skidded over a particularly slippery patch, and would have pitched face-forward into the mud had Sir Jeremy not reached out to catch her. For a moment, he held her tightly, one arm around her shoulders, another just under her breasts. Her heart all but stopped as his large hands steadied her, their firm grasp bringing back memories of his protective embrace at the masquerade. Of their kiss. Knees shaking, she summoned up all her strength to regain her balance and pull away.
“Thank you,” she breathed, risking a look at his face.
His face was even stormier than before, but she saw no signs that he’d recognized her. A moment later he looked calmer, as if he’d forced back his anger.
“What do you intend to do when we find the children?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.
His question brought a sick taste to her mouth. How did he expect her to deal with them? She’d never beaten the children, and in fact the staff at the Hospital now used isolation in preference to physical punishment. But if Sir Jeremy was of the old school . . .
“I shall talk to them . . . of course,” she said, a sharp running pain across her chest adding to her sense of nausea. “To try . . . if I can discover why they did this. Then I must devise a suitable punishment.”
An anxious moment passed before he answered.
“I trust you do not intend anything too harsh,” he said at length.
Stunned, she turned to look at him, and her legs nearly buckled under her. He’d reddened, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He did not wish her to beat the children.
Relief brought her renewed strength. She ran up a slight rise and down into the next hollow, a lovely quiet spot in the center of the ancient woods, where drifts of bluebells released their wild-sweet scent.
Now she could see the entrance to the cave, a narrow, almost invisible gash among the tree roots, overgrown with ivy. “Philippa! Ben! Mary! Robbie!” she called.
Nothing could be heard but
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