Read Online The Governess Club: Bonnie by Ellie Macdonald - Free Book Online
Authors: Ellie Macdonald
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He shared a conspiratorial smile with her and followed Bonnie up the stairs.
Good heavens, she hoped Sir Stephen would clean up this mess quickly. It was exhausting being so suspicious of everyone. All the time. Exhausting. Yes, it needed repeating, even in the privacy of her mind.
“Are you hungry?” she asked Arthur as she helped him take off his coat and hat. The late October day, even with the sun shining as it was, still had called for warmer clothes. She took her own cloak off and hung it up in the nursery closet. Arthur made a dash for the tea tray. “Oh no, young man, stop right there.”
Arthur stopped and looked at her.
Bonnie arched her brows. “Are you supposed to leave your coat and hat on the floor?”
With a dramatic sigh, Arthur turned back and stomped slowly to where he had dropped them. Bonnie nodded with approval and made her way to the tea tray. “Mmm, biscuits.”
S tephen watched as Henry once again correctly put a saddle on Harold. “Excellent work, Henry.”
“Thank you sir. I won’t mistake it again.”
Stephen smiled. “Start taking it off now,” he instructed. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you will never fall again. Accidents happen. They can make you a better rider, if you choose to learn from them.” He moved to lift the saddle off of Harold; Henry’s shoulder was still too pained to do heavy lifting.
“I believe Miss Hodges will be holding tea for us,” Stephen said.
Henry smiled. “You don’t know her very well. If Mrs. Dabbs has put biscuits on the tray, it would take an armed guard to keep her from them.”
“Then let’s go keep her from eating them all.”
They entered the manor and left their coats with Alfred. They were halfway up the main stairs when an unholy wailing reverberated through the walls, halting them in their steps.
“That’s Arthur,” Henry said, worry in his face and voice.
Stephen sprinted up the stairs, leaving Henry to follow. What could have happened? And where was Miss Hodges and why wasn’t she quieting Arthur?
Stephen burst through the open nursery door. He immediately saw the tea tray set up on the table, but what caught his attention was Miss Hodges on the floor, clutching her middle and moaning, tears flowing down her face. Arthur sat beside her, continuing his horrible howl, his face wet.
There was a half-eaten biscuit on the floor beside her.
Stephen didn’t hesitate. He knelt down beside her. “Miss Hodges,” he said over the noise. “Miss Hodges!”
“It hurts so much,” she moaned.
“Where?”
“My stomach.”
“Right, you’re not going to like me for this. Henry, get the chamber pot.” The boy rushed to do so and Stephen pulled her onto her knees, supporting her around the waist. With his free hand, he forced open her mouth and stuck his fingers in to the back of her throat.
She choked and gagged; Stephen felt it around his fingers. When her throat convulsed, he bent her over so she could be sick into the pot. Arthur howled even louder.
Stephen repeated the process.
Henry looked sick himself. “Disgusting!” he exclaimed.
Stephen shot him a look. “Take care of Arthur. Quiet him.”
“Yes sir. Is she going to be sick again?”
“No, please,” she begged.
“We must.” He put action to words and held her as once more she emptied the contents of her stomach..
“Enough,” she pleaded. “There’s nothing left.”
“That’s the point,” he replied. He supported her as Miss Hodges slumped against him, drained of energy.
Miss Hodges weakly raised her head and looked at him. Her bonny hazel eyes were a mixture of pain and misery. It tore his insides. “The boys . . .” she whispered.
“Are fine,” he replied.
Relief momentarily dispelled the pain and misery before her eyelids fluttered. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her head slumped against his shoulder as she fell unconscious.
Stephen held her close and eyed the biscuit on the floor. He glanced back at the door
Good heavens, she hoped Sir Stephen would clean up this mess quickly. It was exhausting being so suspicious of everyone. All the time. Exhausting. Yes, it needed repeating, even in the privacy of her mind.
“Are you hungry?” she asked Arthur as she helped him take off his coat and hat. The late October day, even with the sun shining as it was, still had called for warmer clothes. She took her own cloak off and hung it up in the nursery closet. Arthur made a dash for the tea tray. “Oh no, young man, stop right there.”
Arthur stopped and looked at her.
Bonnie arched her brows. “Are you supposed to leave your coat and hat on the floor?”
With a dramatic sigh, Arthur turned back and stomped slowly to where he had dropped them. Bonnie nodded with approval and made her way to the tea tray. “Mmm, biscuits.”
S tephen watched as Henry once again correctly put a saddle on Harold. “Excellent work, Henry.”
“Thank you sir. I won’t mistake it again.”
Stephen smiled. “Start taking it off now,” he instructed. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you will never fall again. Accidents happen. They can make you a better rider, if you choose to learn from them.” He moved to lift the saddle off of Harold; Henry’s shoulder was still too pained to do heavy lifting.
“I believe Miss Hodges will be holding tea for us,” Stephen said.
Henry smiled. “You don’t know her very well. If Mrs. Dabbs has put biscuits on the tray, it would take an armed guard to keep her from them.”
“Then let’s go keep her from eating them all.”
They entered the manor and left their coats with Alfred. They were halfway up the main stairs when an unholy wailing reverberated through the walls, halting them in their steps.
“That’s Arthur,” Henry said, worry in his face and voice.
Stephen sprinted up the stairs, leaving Henry to follow. What could have happened? And where was Miss Hodges and why wasn’t she quieting Arthur?
Stephen burst through the open nursery door. He immediately saw the tea tray set up on the table, but what caught his attention was Miss Hodges on the floor, clutching her middle and moaning, tears flowing down her face. Arthur sat beside her, continuing his horrible howl, his face wet.
There was a half-eaten biscuit on the floor beside her.
Stephen didn’t hesitate. He knelt down beside her. “Miss Hodges,” he said over the noise. “Miss Hodges!”
“It hurts so much,” she moaned.
“Where?”
“My stomach.”
“Right, you’re not going to like me for this. Henry, get the chamber pot.” The boy rushed to do so and Stephen pulled her onto her knees, supporting her around the waist. With his free hand, he forced open her mouth and stuck his fingers in to the back of her throat.
She choked and gagged; Stephen felt it around his fingers. When her throat convulsed, he bent her over so she could be sick into the pot. Arthur howled even louder.
Stephen repeated the process.
Henry looked sick himself. “Disgusting!” he exclaimed.
Stephen shot him a look. “Take care of Arthur. Quiet him.”
“Yes sir. Is she going to be sick again?”
“No, please,” she begged.
“We must.” He put action to words and held her as once more she emptied the contents of her stomach..
“Enough,” she pleaded. “There’s nothing left.”
“That’s the point,” he replied. He supported her as Miss Hodges slumped against him, drained of energy.
Miss Hodges weakly raised her head and looked at him. Her bonny hazel eyes were a mixture of pain and misery. It tore his insides. “The boys . . .” she whispered.
“Are fine,” he replied.
Relief momentarily dispelled the pain and misery before her eyelids fluttered. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her head slumped against his shoulder as she fell unconscious.
Stephen held her close and eyed the biscuit on the floor. He glanced back at the door
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