Chapter 14 #2
Sophia wondered for a moment if she should go in search of Beatrice Denney, who had left the courtyard to paint a short distance away and was out of sight.
She then realized the young woman would surely hear the noise.
It grew until Sophia was convinced the entire city approached the ruins.
Delighted laughter and surprised cries filtered through the air as multiple carts and carriages approached the ruins and came to a stop.
“Will there be enough to go round, do you suppose?” Sophia asked Amala Ayah. The small gathering had greatly multiplied in size.
“Oh, yes,” the woman answered. “Especially for the children and nannies. They will have their own accommodations. The mothers here do not trust the other households to properly boil milk for tea, so we always supply our own refreshments when we gather.”
Sophia frowned. “Properly boil the milk?”
“Yes, miss. Illness is so common, you see, and the young ones are at increased risk. If the milk is improperly prepared, ailments often follow.” She smiled, one brow raised. “Why one family would be equipped to prepare the tea properly over another I can’t imagine. We all care for the children.”
Sophia grinned. It was the closest she had ever heard Amala come to criticizing her employers or their peers.
A friendly shout at the courtyard archway drew her attention, and she stared in surprise as approximately thirty more people, mostly men, joined the group and began mingling.
Indian servants carried in tables and chairs, complete with starched white linens.
Those seated on the ground stood and gathered blankets, supplies, and reticules as the space was inundated with happy chatter and the smells of fresh food.
Sophia held Ruth close, indicating to her nanny that she would keep her for a bit, and stepped out of the way, looking in amusement at the children’s-outing-turned-adult-social-gathering.
She caught sight of Dylan Stuart, and just behind him, Anthony.
He made eye contact, and for a moment her heart stopped.
She hadn’t expected to see him, and the rush of pleasure she felt at his presence quite overwhelmed her.
His eyes held hers, and his smile slowly spread. It was as though he knew what she was thinking, and she wondered if she were so transparent, if her thoughts were written so clearly on her face.
A little gasp pulled her from the silent exchange and drew her attention to Amala, who had knelt down at Charlie’s side.
The child was pale and trembling, much as he’d been when Ruth had bloodied her nose in the nursery, and a trickle of urine trailed down his leg.
His eyes were huge, focused on the crowd, and then he hid himself against Amala’s shoulder with a shuddering sigh.
Sophia’s heart thumped as a sense of foreboding crept up her spine, and she suddenly felt cold.
She looked in the direction Charlie’s eyes had been locked but saw only the thick crowd of people.
Nobody appeared to be injured, there was no blood, and certainly no acts of violence or fighting had broken out.
What had triggered the little boy’s terror? Enough that he would have an accident?
She crouched down next to Amala and rubbed her hand gently on Charlie’s back. “What is it, Charlie? Did you see something that frightened you?”
He sobbed, then, and his legs buckled. He collapsed fully against Amala, whose own eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“What happened?” Sophia murmured.
Amala shrugged miserably. “I haven’t the least idea.”
“Did he see something . . . someone . . .” Sophia stood quickly, holding Ruth close, and scanned the crowd again.
There were several faces she recognized, but more she did not.
She looked down at Amala again, who held the little boy close and gathered his bag of toys with the other hand. “Has this ever happened before?”
Amala shook her head, looking as bewildered as Sophia felt. She scooped up Charlie and held him against her, heedless of the risk of dirtying her own beautiful silk sari. Sophia’s already good estimation of the ayah’s character shot into the sky.
“I must take him back home,” Amala whispered as Charlie buried his face in her neck. “Please make our excuses should someone notice our absence.”
“Of course. And I shall visit the nursery when we return.”
Sophia unconsciously clutched Ruth tighter as she watched Amala leave with Charlie, and Ruth squirmed with a disgruntled screech.
Sophia’s eyes found Anthony again, who seemed to take in the entire scene at a glance.
He looked at Amala and angled his way forward into the crowd, which by now flowed around Sophia and Ruth like a river.
There were so many faces, so many strangers.
She locked onto those she recognized: the prince’s cousin—Taj Darzi—and a few others with him dressed in fine native apparel; several women she recognized from the Fishing Fleet; Corporal Mailor and his three sheep; Professor Gerald; Clergyman and Mrs. Denney.
Mr. Denney approached Sophia, looking especially fierce. “Have you seen my daughters?” he asked without delay.
Sophia fought the urge to step back. “Just over there. Painting, I believe.” She pointed to the last place she had seen Beatrice, just outside the courtyard. She had no idea of Charity’s whereabouts and felt a stab of guilt. Should she have been paying closer attention to the girl?
The clergyman muttered something to his wife and tugged her away.
Anthony finally reached her side. “What is it?” he asked, breathless. “What’s happened?”
“Oh, Anthony.” Sophia winced. “Charlie is so terrified. I think he might have seen the person who hurt Captain Miller. I should go to him; I must find a way for him to trust me. He cannot live out his life in fear—” She felt her own eyes burn with unshed tears.
Anthony placed his hand on the back of her neck.
He nudged her gently away from the chaos of the crowds and toward the nearest crumbling wall.
He led her toward a portion of it that stood only shin-high and helped her step over the rocks, still clutching Ruth, who chattered and smacked Sophia’s face.
He took the baby from her and ducked his head to meet her eyes. “Breathe for a moment,” he told Sophia while he bounced Ruth and babbled nonsense to her.
Sophia inhaled and blew the air out slowly, closing her eyes. “He is terrified. And so little. And his awful parents are sending him away to school in two years.”
She opened her eyes to see Anthony smiling at her. “My parents sent me away to school when I was young.”
“And they were awful.”
“You’re not wrong.”
Sophia knew she was being dramatic and overwrought. The Pilkingtons were perhaps absent regarding their son, but not truly awful. Her heart still hurt for Charlie. “Why would a mother send her child away at such a young age to be harassed by cruel peers and smacked about by harsh professors?”
“If it’s any consolation, I’ve heard many parents here intentionally maintain distance from their children because they know they will be sending them away in a few short years.
It is very difficult, especially on the mother.
” He smiled at her. “It is the way things are done. Makes men out of boys.”
She snorted and muttered something very unladylike. It made Anthony laugh, and she looked at him holding the little girl. He was so handsome it hurt. The only thing to improve upon the scene would have been a puppy in his other arm. Perhaps a kitten.
“What do you think Charlie saw just now?” he asked her quietly. “The person who killed the captain?”
She shrugged, uncertain why she was feeling so ridiculously teary.
Perhaps because Charlie was so small and utterly without defenses.
He was not a rough-and-tumble boy; he was the sort who could be a target of ridicule.
And his automatic physical response to his fear today was something that would see him mocked mercilessly by other children should it repeat itself in a different setting.
She wanted to hide him from the world, from anyone who would be cruel.
“Why do you think he was so afraid?”
“He . . .” Her lip trembled and she forced the whisper. “He wet himself, Anthony. And he was pale and nearly fainted.”
Anthony’s brow knit. “Could he possibly be ill?”
She shook her head. “He was fine earlier, nearly smiling. And then the crowd arrived, and everyone poured into the courtyard. He stared at someone, but I couldn’t tell who.
” She took another breath and blew it out, pulling herself together.
“Amala took him immediately to one of the carriages. I told her I shall visit the nursery later.”
Anthony nodded. “I am going to circle the crowd, make note of everyone here. Young Master Charlie may have just seen the person who killed the captain.” He handed Ruth back to Sophia. “You find Miss Scarsdale. I am going to reconnoiter.”