Matched By Stratagem (Harrowed Hearts #4)

Prologue

With one more gentle tug, the butterfly pulled its blue wings free from the translucent brown chrysalis.

Javenia’s short, chubby fingers wiggled, the urge to touch the beautiful insect nearly overwhelming her.

But Papa had said to not to, or the butterfly wouldn’t be able to use its wings, so she restrained herself.

Instead, she raised the magnifying glass her papa had gifted to her for her seventh birthday and peered through the lens as the butterfly gradually unfurled its damp wings. This one had taken longer than all the others, but it was definitely worth the wait.

“Beautiful,” she murmured as the little creature moved its spindly black legs to stand on the side of its former home.

Javenia shimmied closer on her belly, delightedly kicking her legs back and forth when the butterfly gave its wings a slow flap.

A tiny breeze bent the green stem to which the chrysalis was attached, but the Common Blue clung tightly to its perch.

Javenia’s hair wasn’t as stable. One toffee colored curl whipped across her face and tickled her nose.

She swiped at it in frustration. Long hair was such a nuisance.

“Hey, stop it,” someone yelled.

Javenia lowered her magnifying glass and glanced around the clearing. No one was within view, but she could hear scuffling feet and angry voices—boys’ voices by the sound of it.

She shook her head in disappointment and went back to her observation.

Last year, when her father bought Hazelwood, she’d been so excited to move closer to the large family of girls that lived on the bordering estate to the southwest. They had always intrigued her when she visited her grandparents in Maidstone, probably because every few years they got a new mama.

She’d hoped to find a friend among them, but had had no such luck, especially after the owner yelled at her papa for something. He was kind of mean like that.

It didn’t matter. The girls were closer to the ages of her little sisters, and none of them liked bugs. At least she assumed they didn’t, since they had all screamed and ran away the last time she tried to show them a beetle.

“Go home, Duncan. You are not supposed to be here anyway.”

She frowned. The owner of the voice sounded familiar.

“I can be wherever I want to be.”

She knew the second voice. Duncan Boleyn’s family sat in the pew right in front of hers at church.

He and his brother, sons of Lord Penwick, were both much older than her.

Probably ten at least, maybe eleven. They seemed nice enough, but by the way the boys in the nearby grove were yelling, apparently they didn’t think so.

More scuffling ensued and then someone cried out. It wasn’t Duncan. The voice was too high.

Javenia scrambled to her feet and slipped the magnifying glass into her apron pocket. The grittiness of the cloth drew her attention when her hand rubbed over something rough. Grass and dirt clung to her front, a testament to her earlier activities.

She brushed away the bits as she trotted toward the trees to see what all the fuss was about.

A thorough inspection of her clothes would be needed before she returned to the house—no need to add to the scolding she was already going to receive from her nursemaid for sneaking out again.

Putting herself to rights would have to wait, though.

When she reached the small stream that led through the trees, she followed it until she could see the owners of the voices. It only took a moment to deduce what had happened.

Johnathan Newhurst, the blond boy from church who constantly stuttered, sat on the ground, holding his knee. He was about a year older than her, maybe two. Javenia wasn’t certain. At seven, she stood as tall as him and even taller than the friend who knelt in the dirt next to him.

Both Johnathan and his friend Nathaniel Stanford lived on the other side of Maidstone, but she saw them often enough on Sundays. Nathaniel was almost a head shorter than her. His tousled brown hair and cheeks streaked with mud didn’t look much better than Johnathan’s dust-covered clothes.

Duncan must have pushed them.

Carefully, she moved into the area where the trees opened to admit the stream. Duncan loomed over the third boy. Javenia’s lips pinched, and her hands fisted.

She didn’t have much to do with Algenon Roberts, the oldest son of her nearest neighbor and brother of the large family of girls, but she also didn’t like the way Duncan smirked at him. There was a meanness in his eyes that she’d never seen before.

“Why don’t you be a good little boy and go cry with your addle-brained friend?” Duncan laughed at his own comment even though it was not at all funny.

Algenon tried to push him away, but Duncan just grabbed his hair and flung him. He stumbled backward, tripping over something and landing on his backside in a small hazel bush.

“Hey!” Javenia yelled before she could think.

Duncan turned to face her. His eyes widened with surprise. It was all the encouragement she needed. Ducking her head, she charged right into his middle, ramming him with her shoulder. A satisfying oof filled her ears as the boy stumbled backward.

Before he could straighten, Javenia balled her fist and punched him right in the nose. Duncan cried out, hands desperately clutching his face. She didn’t let up. With one boot-covered foot, she stomped on his toes.

The bigger boy hopped several times before he scrambled away from her, his eyes watering as he held his bloody nose.

Fists on her hips, Javenia tipped her little chin up like she’d seen her mama do. “Now go home, Duncan, and think about what you have done.”

Either he was too hurt to protest or too embarrassed to stay, because Duncan Boleyn fled like a ghost was on his heels.

Satisfaction filled her chest and Javenia gave one curt bob of her head before turning to see if Algenon needed help.

He’d already scrambled to his feet, a glare narrowing his hazel eyes and creasing his brow. Ruddy brown curls flopped all over his head, a few sticking up where Duncan had grasped them. Without saying a word, he marched over to his friends.

“That was amazing,” Nathaniel said, his eyes open in awe. “I’ve never seen a girl fight like that.”

“M-m-me n-n-neither.” Johnathan ducked his head, his white-blond hair falling in stringy clumps over his wide forehead.

Javenia grinned.

Algenon did not. “I think it was terrible. Now Duncan will think we need a girl to fight for us.”

She crossed her arms and glared. “Would you rather I’d let him pummel you?”

“I was doing just fine on my own.”

“Not from where I stood. He threw you into the bush like a sack of potatoes.” She raised both her eyebrows at him like she’d seen her father do when he was proving a point.

Algenon mirrored her crossed arms. “Nuh-uh. I only tripped over a root. I’d have taken him down soon enough. But you had to stick your nose in where you shouldn’t.”

Dropping her hands to her sides, she clenched them into fists. “Ungrateful cur.”

“Who’re you calling a dog?” Algenon came nose to nose with her, the top of his head only an inch shorter.

“You.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “I come to your rescue, and all you can do is whimper and whine like a whipped puppy.”

He gave her a shove. She stumbled back, indignation filling her little chest. No one treated her like that. No one. So she bent over and gave him the same bull-like charge she’d gifted to Duncan Boleyn.

Algenon tried to step out of the way, but she caught his side with her bony shoulder, the force sending him tumbling into the shallow stream. His head submerged for only a moment before it popped up. He sputtered, spitting out dirty water and wiping his eyes.

Nathaniel laughed. Johnathan merely stared at her.

She couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at her lips. “And now you’re a wet dog.”

Nathaniel doubled over with laughter until he fell in the dirt. “She got you good.”

“Quiet,” Algenon whined as he trudged toward the shore. “I just tripped.”

“Over w-what? N-no r-r-roots th-this time.” Johnathan chuckled, then slowly rose to his feet and limped toward her. “W-what is-is y-y-your name?”

She eyed him for a moment, wondering if he too would twit her, but only pure interest filled his gaze.

“Javenia Harris,” she finally said.

His nose scrunched up and trepidation filled his eyes.

“She goes to church with us,” Nathaniel said, barely containing his laughter. “You know. Lady Upton’s daughter.”

Worry still clouded Johnathan’s face as he wrung his hands together. “I k-k-now who sh-she is. My m-mother is friends wi-wi-with hers.”

Nathaniel’s face cleared. “Don’t worry, John. You’ll be able to say her name. Eventually.”

“Or you could forget it,” Algenon grumbled.

“No, I like her.” Nathaniel glared at his friend, then turned to her. “Want to play pirates with us?”

Javenia’s insides vibrated with excitement.

They wanted to play with her? Other than her younger sisters, no one had wanted to play with her since she’d come to Hazelwood.

The girls all thought her too strange, and she’d thought them too boring.

It had been lonely. Back in Devonshire she’d had lots of friends, but Papa hated being so far from London and Mama missed her family, so they’d relocated to Kent for the majority of the year.

She looked at the dirt-smudged boys around her. Two had smiles and one had a definite frown. Maybe she had been looking for the wrong type of playmates. Boys were not her first choice, but pirates sounded like a much more enjoyable game than dolls or tea party.

“Can I be Mad Eye Maggie, scourge of the seas?” She clasped her hands in front of her.

Algenon folded his gangly arms over his sopping shirt and vest. “You are already a scourge.”

“Shut it, Al.” Nathaniel glared at his friend. “She saved you. Stop being a ninny about it.”

“He’s just jealous.” She picked up a stick for a sword and pointed it at Algenon. “I dub you Binky Barns, my cabin boy. Now go swab the deck.”

“I’m not no cabin boy.” He grabbed his own stick. “I’m Captain Roberts”—a little smile pulled at his lips—“and I challenge you to a duel.”

With a quick swipe, he hit her raised stick. She was ready for him. They clashed back and forth, their sticks slapping against each other. Petty insults were tossed back and forth, each one more ridiculous than the last.

“Back, you maggot eating dog,” Javenia said.

“Not on your life, you thumb sucking toad.” Algenon made a solid hit.

“I don’t think toads even have thumbs.” She dodged his next thrust.

“Monkeys do, you furry female.”

“So do apes, you flat-faced nymph.”

Algenon snickered. She tried not to smile as she swung her stick with all her might. Their makeshift weapons crashed together and a pair of ominous cracks filled the air as the end of each broke, sending bits of wood flying.

She giggled.

He laughed.

They both scurried to find new weapons.

“John, you’re my first mate, come defend me,” Algenon called, a huge smile splitting his lips.

“Then I’m with Mad Eye Maggie.” Nathaniel grabbed his own stick and stood shoulder to shoulder with her.

Holding her stick aloft, she nodded to Algenon. His eyes sparkled with delight. Somewhere in the battle of insults, a truce had been brokered, one she didn’t quite understand, but welcomed nonetheless.

When everyone was ready, she raised her stick higher. “On guard, Captain Roberts. May the best pirate win.”

And for the first time since Javenia had come to Hazelwood, she no longer felt alone.