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Authors: Maureen Lang

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On Sparrow Hill (12 page)

BOOK: On Sparrow Hill
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“If you’d prefer not to be arrested, you’ll take what’s left of your camera and leave,” Quentin said, only slightly out of breath and agilely returning to his feet.

The man reclaimed his digital camera, now empty of its photo card. It looked like any tourist’s. He inspected it for damage, then eyed the card Quentin held in his hand.

“I have a week’s worth of work on that.”

“I’ll have it scanned and anything offensive removed before returning it. Which paper?”

The man told him that and his name, shuffling to his feet. He was gone before Quentin was back at Rebecca’s side.

She would never have expected the grandson of a viscount, nephew to the Earl of Eastwater, son to Lady Elise Hollinworth, to go to such trouble. But he had. For her.

16

* * *

I must confess, Cosima, that in those first few moments after meeting Simon MacFarland, I wondered if their family might share your so-called curse. Not that he seemed feebleminded, or that Katie doesn’t have an excellent vocabulary. I wondered if he might be just a bit unstable, not only from his actions but his inability to meet my gaze. However, the moment after rejoining them, I knew I was wrong. He studied me with such scrutiny I knew he at least did not share Katie’s penchant to avoid looking into my eyes. I tried so hard to remember he had been frantic with worry and to excuse his forceful behavior because of that.

“Miss . . . Berrie?”

Berrie looked at him, wondering what he saw as he looked at her so closely for the first time. Someone who’d taken advantage of his sister, forcing Katie to work when she would be better off in his home? Or would he give her the benefit of the doubt and let Berrie, and even Katie, help him form an opinion?

She held out her hand. “My name is Beryl Hamilton, and I am the headmistress here at Escott Manor. I assume you haven’t been sent by Simon MacFarland but are indeed him?”

He nodded.

“And so you received my note?”

“This morning.”

“I’m unfamiliar with much of Ireland, Mr. MacFarland. Daisy, the housemaid who was hired by your other sister, said your home was north of Dublin. How far have you come, then?”

“I came by my fastest horse. Less than three hours’ ride.” He stepped closer. His size alone would have intimidated her, even without the scowl on his face. “Do you have any idea how frantic a family can be, not knowing what’s become of one of its own?”

The accusation was clear. “I can imagine it’s quite a horrid feeling, Mr. MacFarland. I am truly grieved that your sister chose to deceive you as to Katie’s whereabouts.”

If he had hoped to ascribe any of the blame to Berrie, he must have abandoned that plan upon hearing her words. His broad shoulders, covered in a black broadcloth jacket that seemed to stretch beyond the width for which it was sewn, slumped to a better fit. “I apologize for her behavior, Miss Hamilton. Innis’s act was unforgivable, and I imagine you were also affected by her thoughtlessness.”

“We’re happy to have Katie stay, Mr. MacFarland, only there are proper procedures for all of our students.”

“She won’t be staying in this bedlam. My carriage will be here shortly.”

Berrie grazed her fingertips to palms, resisting a full clench. She would not be offended by his choice of words. He had, after all, come upon one of the more uproarious scenes even she had witnessed since they’d started the school. “I understand if you’d rather take Katie home; however, I’d hardly term it
bedlam
here.”

He eyed her for the second time with such probing intensity she knew a moment of discomfort. “All the more reason for me to take her home, if you’re so immune to what this place is. What I came upon in there—” he cocked his head toward the door—“was bedlam, pure and simple. I’ll not leave my sister to such a place as this—a stinking pit.”

“Granted,” Berrie said with one nod, recalling all too vividly the scent he was greeted with, “it was a bit noisy, but if you’ll revisit the dining room . . .”

He was already approaching Katie. Berrie narrowed her eyes. Never in her life had she been treated with such outright disrespect.

“We’ll be going home now, Katie-sis.”

Upon those words Katie’s head shot up. She smiled. “Oh, I like it when you call me that, Simon. Why don’t you call me that more often? When I was littler you used to call me that all the time.”

“Our carriage will be here soon, and we’ll be going home.”

Katie shook her head. “No, Simon. I work here, and to work here you must live here. I take care of others day and night.”

“You needn’t work, Katie. You have a home with me.”

“But only Miss MacFarland is there all the time, and she doesn’t like me.”

“Innis is getting married, Katie,” Simon said, “so you needn’t worry about annoying her any longer. In just a few weeks she’ll be living in her own home.”

“Oh.” The single word carried neither approval nor surprise. “But, Simon, you’re not at home very much, so I prefer to live here anyway, because I like to work.”

Simon neared his sister. “We’ll talk about this at home.”

Katie was shaking her head before he’d said more than a few words. “We can talk here.” She looked at Berrie. “Will you tell him, Miss Berrie, how I have certain jobs? how I take care of Annabel and Tessie? I’m teaching Annabel to write and Tessie to sing. She already knows how to hum. Besides, I cannot leave, or there will be an empty bed in our room.”

“You must do as your brother says, Katie,” Berrie told her. She wanted to sound kind, even encouraging, yet this man made it difficult to lend him much support, even if he was doing the right thing. The legal thing, at any rate. “Remember when you first came, we talked about the papers we all need to stay here? If your brother doesn’t wish to sign the papers, you cannot stay.”

Katie stood face-to-face with her brother, but Berrie could see Katie didn’t look him in the eye either. “You’ll sign the papers, won’t you, Simon?”

Berrie fully expected Katie to go on, because she hardly ever spoke in single sentences, but she stopped, as if even she knew the importance of that one question.

Those shoulders on the tall Irishman had lost their breadth but now stretched again with a deep sigh. “I thought you were happy at home, Katie.”

“I’m happy here.” Her tone indicated she’d kept to her policy of telling the truth.

Berrie saw his struggle. So far, she’d seen only families who thought of Escott Manor as an answer to prayer, a haven for their child, a respite for the families themselves, if only for a year or two. What must this brother be thinking, knowing nothing of her, of this school, of what they hoped to achieve?

“Mr. MacFarland,” she said gently, “perhaps Katie and I might tell you what it’s like here, so when you have your discussion—whether it’s here or at home—the answer will be easier.”

“For whom?” he asked coldly. “Me or Katie?”

“I hope for both.” Then another thought struck her. If he’d been riding all morning, he was probably hungry. Every man she’d grown up with was grumpy when hungry. “Would you like something to eat? Our food is simple, but we have enough.”

“No,” he said, adding, “I’ve no wish to stay, and less than that do I want to revisit that dining hall.”

“You came upon us at a challenging moment. I assure you not all of our meals are as unruly as the one you witnessed. By way of explanation I can only offer that our school has recently opened, and we’re all adjusting to—”

“Miss Hamilton,” he cut in, “I have neither the time nor the desire to listen to excuses. My carriage will be here shortly, and I’d like my sister to be ready. I assume Innis thought to send necessities—clothes and such. Why don’t you see they’re ready for transport?”

Berrie stood still, staring at the man in front of her. Granted, he was handsome, but that was the only gift God had given him. “Do you know, Mr. MacFarland, you are the most impolite person I’ve ever met? I have been slapped, kicked, even spat upon by various students in this past week, but not one of those offenses compares to your rudeness.”

He appeared unfazed by the insult, although he did meet her gaze again. “Best to pack her bag now, then, so our paths will separate all the quicker.”

“Are you arguing, Simon?” Katie asked. She turned to Berrie. “Do you not like him, Miss Berrie? He’s my brother. He’s a good man. I don’t know why he doesn’t sound nice right now, but he’s always nice to me, even after I’ve got into trouble. Do you think you might learn to like him somehow, so we can all be friends?”

“I don’t think we’ll have that opportunity, Katie.” Berrie’s gaze still rested on Simon. He stared back, as if in a contest as to who might look away first.

He did, and when he turned to his sister, his gaze measurably softened. Berrie wondered at this man who could in one instant be so ill-mannered and in the next, the affectionate brother.

“Will you show me where you’ve lived these past weeks, Katie-sis?”

Katie nodded, heading toward the door. She looked so hopeful perhaps the girl believed he only wanted a tour and that she would be staying. But Berrie was certain he would pack Katie’s bags himself if he thought it was the only way to have her ready by the time their carriage arrived.

Berrie followed. “You should know something about us before you decide Katie’s future,” she said as she kept pace beside him. It was two flights up to the girls’ dormitory, and Berrie intended to use every step to plead Katie’s cause. “Escott Manor is a private asylum, a place where children are safe and challenged to learn. We answer to the Lunacy Commission, of course; they have classified us as a hospital because of the residential nature, and so we are. We have one nurse who lives among us and a visiting physician who sees the children every day. We’re an open and transparent community. Nothing is hidden. I can assure you Katie has been treated well here and is welcome to stay.”

“I’ve no reason to doubt you, yet you must understand my position too. I am the eldest in my family, responsible for both of my sisters’ well-being. The Almighty gives us into the families we have. Who are we to redraw such a thing? Not Innis, not Katie herself—nor your asylum, Miss Hamilton.”

Berrie bristled again. “If this is a responsibility you do not take lightly, Mr. MacFarland, how is it that you lost your sister for nearly a full month?” The jab was well aimed; from his profile she saw the immediate draw of his brows. Guilt filled her. It was not her role to chastise him for what a devious sister had done. “Perhaps,” she added, “Katie’s being here is God’s way of helping you with your responsibilities. It seems your work takes you from home often, which might be why Katie didn’t mind leaving.”

“Simon is an MP,” Katie said without looking back from two steps ahead.

Berrie’s gaze flew back to Simon’s. “You’re a member of Parliament?”

“Elected to the House of Commons.” He said it without pride, rather matter-of-factly.

Berrie recalled the foolish notions she’d had of him fighting the English as Katie once indicated. Had she really worried he was a member of one secret Irish society or another, waiting to ambush anyone with the blood of the suppressive English running through their veins?

With some consternation, she realized if Katie had only told her sooner that her brother was an MP, Berrie could have written to her own brother at the House of Lords to see if there might be an Irish chair holder in the adjacent house by the name of Simon MacFarland.

“As Katie said, she helps many of the students who stay here. Their language skills aren’t nearly as developed as Katie’s, and she has extraordinary patience with them. She has also exhibited a wonderful skill in drawing. If you’d like to see some of the classrooms, they’re on this floor.”

But Katie was already heading up to her dormitory. “I sleep upstairs, Simon.” She glanced toward Berrie. “My brother said he wants to see where I’ve been living, so I can start there, can’t I? To show him how I start my day? Then we can go outside, where we do our drills, and then to the dining room, and then the classrooms.”

“I don’t think your brother—”

Simon stopped short without warning and Berrie nearly bumped into him. “Drills?”

She could see he disapproved without the slightest knowledge of their version of such a military term, or why they did them. “Yes, drills: walking, exercise, letting fresh air fill the lungs. A healthy body helps the mind, Mr. MacFarland.”

“Does it, indeed? Or perhaps physical exhaustion quiets the mouth.”

“Interesting that you should jump to such a conclusion. Do you presume everyone to be as mean-spirited as yourself?”

“Hardly. I know human nature, Miss Hamilton, and judge others according to that.”

Katie stopped, perhaps because they were no longer following. She looked down at them from several steps above. “You’re arguing again? Arguing is for people who don’t like one another. How could I like two people who don’t like each other? It doesn’t make sense, because I only like a certain kind of person. I would understand, Miss Berrie, if you didn’t like my sister. I don’t like her either. But this is my brother. You should like him.”

She started to ascend again, then stopped. “Did you call my brother a spirit? I know God is a spirit, so we can’t see Him. And did you call him mean? He’s not; he’s a good man. Not a spirit, not mean.”

Berrie momentarily pursed her lips. “Yes, Katie, I’m sure you’re right.”

It was a good thing Katie didn’t look for lies, or she certainly would have spotted that one.

17

* * *

Helen must have summoned Quentin before telling Rebecca of the approaching black taxi down the long lane. Quentin was already standing at the base of the stairs. His gaze engulfed her, and she felt a rush of blood rise and fall. For a moment she imagined this was how it would be if this were their home, not as business partner and owner but as husband and wife.

“Helen will have tea on the veranda, so we’ll finish there, all right?” Quentin asked, taking her hand in his as she stepped off the bottom stair. “Let’s go outside and greet them.”

Rebecca followed, wondering if he was as eager as he appeared. Or maybe he was just happy for the same reason she woke these days with a smile so readily available. From the portico, Rebecca saw that the visiting man was already out of the taxi, coming around to the other side to assist his wife, who was helping a little girl from the backseat.

BOOK: On Sparrow Hill
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