He was grinning, but Pansy couldn’t be sure if he was teasing or not. In any case, she felt shivers running down her back every time she thought about it after that.
In no time at all, it seemed, they had reached the path to the woods. Tess plunged ahead of them into the trees, making Samuel call out anxiously after her when she disappeared from sight.
“I don’t want to lose her,” he said, as they quickened their steps to catch up with the dog. “She’s used to being on her own, though. She might decide she likes it better being free.”
There was such anxiety in his voice, Pansy felt like hugging him to make him feel better. “She won’t run off,” she said, hoping she was right. “Why would she? She has someone to feed her and brush her coat and take care of her. More than anything, she has someone to love her now. What more could she want? What more could anyone want?”
He must have picked up something in her voice, as he paused and looked back at her. For a moment they stared at each other, looking deep into each other’s eyes, while her heart drummed in her chest.
Samuel’s voice sounded strange when he spoke. “Pansy, I-”
To her intense disappointment, the sound of barking cut off whatever he was going to say. He turned, looking in the direction of the urgent summons. “That’s Tess. Something’s upset her.”
Sensing the precious moment fading away, Pansy grabbed his arm. “It’s probably only a rabbit, that’s all. What were you going to say?”
He shook his head. “No, that’s an alarm bark. We’d better go and find out what’s bothering her.”
He took off at a run, leaving her to follow, seething with frustration. She was sure he was going to say something important. Maybe something that would change her life forever. Drat the dog. Tess had taken away her chance of finally hearing Samuel say the words she longed to hear.
Sulking, she trudged after him, the dog’s barking echoing in her ears. Samuel disappeared among the trees, and shortly after that Tess’s barks dwindled to soft whines.
Thinking the dog might be hurt, Pansy quickened her steps. The forest smelled of wet wood and damp earth, blending with the tangy fragrance of pine. Needles and dried leaves crunched under her feet as she hurried up the trail toward the spot where Samuel had disappeared.
She couldn’t see any movement ahead, and above her the thick branches of the evergreens shut out the light, so everything around her was clothed in murky shadows. Even Tess had stopped her whining, and only the rustling of the wind in the trees competed with the thump of her heart.
Pansy halted, clutching her thin scarf to her throat. “Samuel?” Her voice sounded thin and high. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Samuel? Tess? Where are you? I can’t see you.”
No one answered. Frightened now, she took a few steps deeper into the woods. “Samuel?
“I’m here.”
The harsh voice had drifted out to her from the dense thicket of trees. She took a nervous step in that direction, then all at once Samuel appeared from behind the thick trunk of a gnarled old oak tree.
Relief swamped her, until she saw his face. His skin had turned as pale as a bleached sheet. His eyes looked huge and stared back at her as if she were some wild animal getting ready to attack him.
“Samuel?”
She took a step toward him and his hand shot up, freezing her to the spot. When he spoke his voice sounded so different she hardly recognized it.
“Don’t come any closer.”
Her own voice barely above a whisper, she answered him. “What? Why not?”
Samuel clutched his stomach and leaned the other hand against the oak’s trunk. His next words chilled her to the bone. “Because I just found Ellie, and it’s not a pretty sight.”
CHAPTER 9
Gertie stacked the last dish on the draining board and reached for the soggy tea towel. It had taken her twice as long without Pansy, but she knew, only too well, what it was like to be late on a day off. When you only got one afternoon a week, every minute was precious. Especially if you were spending it with someone you really liked.
Gertie sighed. She used to long for her afternoon off so she could spend it with Dan. That was when they were first getting to know each other and every moment with him was exciting.
Nowadays, all they seemed to do was argue with each other. She knew that Dan missed living in the city, and was getting bored with the sleepy little village of Badgers End. He kept telling her there was nothing to do down there, and the winters were too long.
Twice he’d asked her if she’d move to London with him, and both times she’d refused to consider it. She didn’t want her twins growing up in London. She’d seen what the city could do to people, and she wanted none of that for her children.
Besides, everyone she knew and loved lived in Badgers End. She’d miss them all, and her job. She loved working at the Pennyfoot, meeting new people every week or so.
She loved living across the street from the ocean and all that fresh air. Not like the black fog from the coal fires that choked the streets of London. They didn’t call it The Smoke for nothing.
No, she wouldn’t give up her life again for a man. She’d done it once, moving to Scotland to be with Ross. How she’d hated it up there. The bitterly cold winters, the strange customs and accents that were impossible to understand. Much as she loved Dan, and she loved him far more than she’d loved Ross, she wouldn’t do it again. She and her twins belonged in Badgers End and that’s where they’d stay.
“I want to give Harriet a bath.”
The high-pitched voice piping behind her startled her out of her wits. She spun around, the bone china plate slipping through her fingers. It landed with a splintering crash on the floor, making the little girl in front of her jump back in horror.
“You dropped the plate!”
Gertie scowled. “Now how on earth did you find out about that?”
Adelaide drew her brows together. “I didn’t find out. I saw it.”
Obviously sarcasm was wasted on the child. Gertie stooped to pick up the pieces. “What are you doing in the kitchen anyway? You’re not supposed to be in here. Does your mummy know where you are?”
Adelaide shrugged. “She’s sleeping.”
“What about your nanny?”
“She’s reading in the library. I crept out when she wasn’t looking.”
“And your brother?”
“He crept out, too. I don’t know where he went.”
Adelaide ran her finger down the edge of the table then licked it. She pulled a face, and stuck the offending finger into the pocket of her apron. “What’s an alarm?”
“It’s a loud bell that tells people something is wrong so they come running.”
“The bell can talk?”
Gertie muttered a word under her breath so the child wouldn’t hear it. “No, it can’t talk.”
“Harriet can talk.” The little girl held the doll’s face up to her ear, frowned in concentration, then announced, “Harriet wants a bath.”
“Then you’ll have to take her to the lavatory. There’s no bath in here.”
“She wants a bath in there.” Adelaide pointed to the sink and held the doll over it as if about to drop it in.
Abandoning the scattered pieces of china, Gertie surged to her feet and grabbed the doll. “No! You’ll spoil all its clothes. They’ll get all wet and stained.” She fingered the delicate silk and lace in awe. “She has such beautiful clothes. Better than I’ve ever seen. I wish I had clothes like this to wear.”
“Mommy will buy me more clothes for her. She buys me anything I want.” Adelaide stretched out her hand for the doll but Gertie held it up out of reach.
