Dawn at Emberwilde (28 page)

Colin turned to take the path to visit Harding and McKinney to go over a few more details regarding the forest. As he did he soaked in his surroundings and drew a deep breath. There were worse things, he mused, than visiting the Emberwilde estate. The morning light bathed the green surroundings in a yellow glow that warmed his shoulders and back. The sun shone on wealth and power, security and privilege. This was what so many aspired to.

Yet for him, satisfaction could not be found in such things. He wanted justice, but more importantly, he craved freedom. And, to his surprise, companionship.

Every time he visited Emberwilde his attentions seemed to
wander, and at some point he would scan the landscape, looking for Miss Creston. Normally, she was nowhere to be seen, but today was different.

She was at quite a distance, but there could be no mistaking her for her cousin or one of the servants. But something seemed amiss. Her gait was unusually quick. She looked to be pacing. She stopped, stared in the direction of the forest, then turned back to the walled rose garden and entered it.

Curious, Colin resumed walking and guided his horse alongside him toward the garden by the fence that separated them from the woods. He arrived just as she was exiting.

Her hair whipped around her face in the morning wind, and she was alarmingly pale.

He stepped through the gate and gave a bow. “I hope I am not intruding. I saw you from across the lawn as I came through the gates.”

She did not smile, nor did she greet him with the customary curtsy. “Good morning, Mr. Galloway. Did you by chance see Lizzie?”

Colin squinted in the morning sun and propped his hand on his hip, surveying the surrounding lawn. “I did not.”

“It is very odd, for I cannot find her anywhere.” Miss Creston knitted her fingers together. “When I awoke this morning she had already left her chamber.”

Colin kept his voice calm, as if to counteract Miss Creston's rising anxiety. “I shall keep my eyes open and let you know if I see her.”

At this, the slightest hint of a smile twitched the corner of her full lip. “I would be very grateful. I thought for certain she would be at the stable, but Carter says he has not seen her yet this morning.”

“I would not worry. There is plenty to do to keep a child occupied on this property. I am sure you will find her in a garden or climbing a tree or something of the sort.”

At this her shoulders lowered. “I think my aunt might frown upon that.”

He leaned toward her and whispered, “Then perhaps it is best she doesn't know.”

He thought he noticed a smile. She turned to leave, then stopped. “It is nice to see you, Mr. Galloway.”

The soft sincerity in her voice touched him, the gentle sound breaking down wall after wall around his armored heart. “It is a pleasure to see you as well. And do not worry.”

She looked out toward the woods again, almost like a lost child herself, fearful yet curious, cautious yet bold. She clutched the white fabric of her skirt in her hand, dropped a quick curtsy, then turned from him and walked in the opposite direction.

She left like a vapor, making him wonder if he had actually encountered her or merely imagined it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

C
olin pulled his horse to a stop at the edge of Emberwilde Forest.

It was a shock of blue, bright blue—a color not normally found in the forest—that caught his eye.

He slid from the saddle and approached the blue item lying at the base of a tree. It was a doll. The toy's porcelain face was smeared with dirt and grime. He held it out before him, assessing it as if he had never seen one before.

Lizzie.

Who else could it belong to?

McKinney's voice cut the silence. “What's that?”

Colin looked back over his shoulder, having momentarily forgotten that McKinney was with him.

“It's a doll.”

“I can see that.” McKinney dismounted and snatched the doll from Colin's hands. “Those blackguards will smuggle anything into this country. Best take it with the rest of the contraband.”

“Normally I'd agree with you, but there is a young girl staying at Emberwilde at the moment, do not forget,” he stated, remembering Miss Creston's morning search for her younger sister. “ 'Tis far more likely that it belongs to her.”

Colin moved to take the doll back, but a noise made him stop.

Shuffling.

“Stay here,” Colin ordered, and then he grabbed the doll away.

He looked down and saw small footprints in the soft ground. They led him to a giant yew tree surrounded by some brush, then disappeared through a small opening under one of the roots. A tiny scrap of lighter blue peeked out.

Colin knelt and popped his head in through the opening. He heard the child scrambling, but when their eyes met, she drew her knees up close to her chest.

He extended the doll, almost as a peace offering. “Does this belong to you?”

Lizzie eyed him, then angled her head as if to peer behind him. With a hesitant hand she reached out to take the doll, her eyes not leaving him. “Are they gone?”

A sinking feeling coursed through his stomach. “Is who gone?”

“The men with the black dog.”

Colin reached into the brush and extended his hand to help the child out. She stared at it for several moments.

When she did not take his hand, he asked, “There were men in the forest?”

She nodded.

“Do you know who they were?”

She shook her head.

He had no wish to frighten her with an onslaught of questions, but he had to know. “Had you ever seen them before?”

She finally spoke, her small voice high and soft. “No.”

She looked scared—legitimately scared. In his brief encounters with this child, she had seemed almost fearless, from her first pony ride to the mishap with the ducklings.

“Did they hurt you?” he asked, keeping his voice as gentle as possible.

She fixed her large eyes on him. “They did not know I was here. I hid when I saw them coming.”

Colin offered a smile. “Smart girl.”

Lizzie finally accepted his outstretched hand and he helped her to her feet.

She ran her hand down the front of her skirt. It was covered in dirt and dead leaves. If her aunt were to see her in such a state, she would be horrified. But Colin suspected something more unsettling than simply a dirty dress. He helped her from her hiding place.

“What are you doing out in the forest? Didn't your sister or aunt tell you it was not a good place to play?”

She looked to McKinney and ignored his question for several seconds. “Yes, Isabel, Aunt Margaret, and Burns all told me, but I wanted to see the fairies.”

“Fairies?” he repeated, a bit amused. “What made you think there are fairies here?”

“The girls at the foundling home said that there are fairies and creatures in the forest. They said they see them sometimes. I wanted to see one too.” She fixed her eyes on McKinney and leaned close to Colin. “Who's that?”

“That is Mr. McKinney. He is a friend of mine.” He knelt next to her. “Your sister is looking for you. She will be happy to know that I have found you.”

Lizzie wrinkled her nose. “Do you think she will be mad?”

“She is worried about you. She cares for you very much.”

Lizzie frowned and looked to the ground. Her chin began to tremble.

“But there is nothing to be worried about. All is well, right? See here, I want to show you something.”

It did not take him long to find one of the gamekeeper's traps half covered with leaves and forest debris. He knelt down on the ground not far from it and pointed. “See that piece of black metal over there?”

She nodded.

“That is a trap. It is what the gamekeeper uses to catch hares,
and if you accidentally step on it, you can be hurt very, very badly. Do you understand?”

Again she nodded, and this time she swiped her hand across her face, smearing dirt.

He reached for his handkerchief. At the rate he was encountering Creston females in the forest, he was going to run out of handkerchiefs. He wiped away the dirt near her eye, then gave the cloth to her.

“You must promise me not to come into these woods alone again. If you want to come in, I am sure your uncle would bring you. But it isn't safe for young ladies alone.”

She nodded, but he doubted she heard his warning, for she refused to let her chosen topic of conversation drop. “Have you ever seen the fairies, Mr. Galloway?”

“There is no such thing as a fairy.”

“If you have never seen one, then how do you know?”

The corner of his mouth tugged. She was a clever little thing. “Just promise me you will not come back in here.”

“Because of the ghosts?”

He shook his head. He was being bested by a child. “There is no such thing as a ghost either.”

“But why would people talk about ghosts if they aren't there? Ellie said—”

“I do not know who Ellie is, but I can promise you as surely as I am standing here, there are no such things as ghosts. Now, I know you like horses. Would you like to ride on mine?” He did not want her walking in the forest at all. “His name is Sampson and he is very friendly.”

She nodded eagerly.

Lizzie felt light as he lifted her up on his saddle and set her sideways on it. He lifted a chunk of mane and directed it to her. “You hold on tight to this. Do not let go, all right?”

She smiled and leaned over to look at the ground, a smile lightening her face. “I have never been on a horse this big before.”

He cast a glance over at McKinney. “I am going to take her back to the house. You coming?”

McKinney jerked his head to the side. “No. I am going to head to the site.”

“I will meet you there shortly. Just let me get her away from these traps.”

Isabel had been pacing the property all morning, watching, waiting.

She'd alerted the staff to the fact that her sister was missing. The housekeeper stated she had seen Lizzie earlier that day and told her not to worry, that children would be children.

Isabel mentioned to her aunt that Lizzie was nowhere to be found, and her aunt simply replied that if given more discipline, Lizzie would show more respect for rules and regulations.

Aunt Margaret's jabs at her ability to care for her sister thrust deep, adding to the unspoken rift that had already seemed to form between the two women.

Mr. Galloway had been the only person to take her concern seriously, or at least he had seemed to.

Perhaps if her family was aware that there were strange men in the forest, as she was, they might feel differently. She now regretted her decision not to tell anyone, but was it too late?

She had been invited by Constance to visit Miss Atwell with her that morning, but she decided against it. She could enjoy no company until her sister was found.

Later in the afternoon, Constance returned and emerged through the music room doors and onto the broad veranda, bonnet in hand.

“If you are going to be out in this sun, you should at least put a bonnet on. The last thing you want to do is freckle. Your cheeks are already getting pink.”

“You've returned,” Isabel muttered as she turned and accepted the bonnet, but the last thing that concerned her was the shade of her complexion. Not when her sister was alone. Each passing hour Isabel's mind churned with the possible scenarios, but none echoed louder than the rough man's warning. But then Isabel saw a gray horse break the tree line, and on its back, a small figure in blue. Mr. Galloway led them.

With a sharp little cry Isabel let the bonnet fall to the veranda's stone floor, and she flew from the space. Throwing propriety aside, she quickened her steps to a jog, then slowed when she saw a smile on Lizzie's face.

She was safe.

With the knowledge that her sister was not in danger, anger began to flush through her. She'd gone into the forest! What had the child been thinking?

“Lizzie!” she exclaimed as her steps brought her closer to the horse, Mr. Galloway, and her sister. “Where in heaven's name have you been? I've been beside myself with worry!”

Lizzie's smile faded. Isabel noticed the mud smeared on her cheek and on her pinafore. She looked at Lizzie's face. Her smile had transformed to a frown, and her eyes were downcast.

Isabel immediately regretted the sharp bite to her words and looked to Mr. Galloway for clarification.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “I was tending to some business in the forest, and I found her there.”

A fresh wave of panic washed over her. The words of the handless man echoed in her mind for the thousandth time. “What were you doing in the forest, Lizzie? You have been told not to go near it.”

Mr. Galloway helped Lizzie down from the horse, the movement swift and effortless. His patience and tenderness struck Isabel like a sudden, unexpected light. He smiled at the child and held her steady until certain she had her footing. Lizzie looked so small next to him.