Academy of Littles

by Allison West

  "Very well," Jack said. "I suggest you stay for dinner, the ride is long and the horses could use the rest."

  Philip did not disagree. "That would be kind of you." His horses had been riding all day and the journey to the moors would take several more hours. He did not bother to ask about staying the night. He would not feel comfortable, and doubted sleep would find him. He was too concerned about Etta and knowing that she was safe. The sooner he found her, the sooner he'd feel at ease. Until then, he would survive on lack of sleep and his non-existent appetite. He'd get a little nourishment at dinner, but he doubted he could eat a full meal like at home.

  Philip found it difficult not to worry about Etta. He always interviewed the papas for the girls at the chateau, making sure they were in the best care possible when they left for good. He had not been given that chance with Thomas, which he found unsettling. The gentleman had swept in, stolen her from the locked hall, and walked her right out of the building. There were supposed to be security measures to ensure the protection of his littles. He knew that would have to be amended when he returned, but his mind dragged back to the men who had requested a little only to be rejected. Was the name Thomas Maddock familiar? Philip could not remember. He just hoped he was not a man who had been turned away and who now sought revenge.

  Chapter 21

  Her bottom hurt profusely and Etta could not sit down. She lay on her bed, crying until there were no more tears to fall.

  "Is everything all right?" Nanny Joan asked after knocking softly.

  Etta shook her head, stood, and wiped the snot and tears from her face. "Would you close the door?" she asked, wanting a moment of privacy. She did not want the butler or Thomas to overhear their conversation.

  "Of course," Nanny Joan shut the door behind her and stepped closer to Etta. "Do you want to tell me what is wrong? I know Mr. Maddock can be quite intimidating at first, but I assure you he is incredibly fond of you. He would not have brought you into his home and to help with his girls if he did not like you."

  That was not enough for Etta. She could not remain in this place. Etta stepped closer to the young plump woman, her voice dropping in case anyone listened from outside. "Does he hurt his girls the way he disciplines me?"

  "Do you mean, does he use the strap or paddle? Of course not. I have never seen him lift a hand to either of his girls. Though he also does not pay them much attention, either. They are good girls, Etta. Mary just needs more time with you to warm up. You are not thinking of leaving here already?"

  It was not the girls that bothered Etta. She could not handle Thomas. "I cannot stay. Thomas would be better off finding another wife who can make him happy." It was obvious to Etta that she'd only upset him at every juncture. They'd spent less than a day together and he had made her bottom far sorer than it had been her entire stay at Ashby. She wanted to go home, and though she had not known quite where that was, it was beginning to dawn on her.

  "You are leaving?" Nanny Joan frowned. "Thomas will not be pleased when he discovers you are missing."

  "Swear you will not tell him I am gone. I need him to discover it on his own. Let me have a head start." Etta had to pray that Nanny Joan would not betray her. She'd keep where she intended to go from the young woman, in case she had loose lips.

  Nanny Joan dug into her pocket, pulling out a few coins and dropping them into Etta's hand. "This will be enough for your train ride wherever you intend to go. You should leave soon, before Thomas requests your presence for lunch. Head through the gates and keep going. You will eventually reach the station," she whispered furtively.

  Lunch was still a few hours away, which meant Etta would have a slight head start before Thomas noticed she'd gone missing. Would she need to worry about him coming after her? What if the train did not leave until noon? No. She needed to leave and would not concern herself with such matters until the time came and she was faced with them head on.

  Etta needed to find the Ashby Chateau, but she'd traveled there by carriage in the middle of the night. How would she discover its location or know which train to take to get there? She did not have anything to pack so she headed quietly down the stairs, giving a brief nod of thanks to the nanny before she slipped out of the front door.

  The lawns were dull, the sky gray. The air felt chilly and Etta wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm. She walked along the path made by the carriage as she headed away from the estate toward the train station. Her feet moved swiftly, afraid that at any moment Thomas would look out the window and see Etta in her bright red gown escaping his home. She did not even want to know what the punishment for running away would be. The strap had been for language, and the paddle, well, she could not quite fathom what she'd done that morning to deserve any punishment at all.

  In the distance, Etta could make out the dark black silhouette of a carriage and two horses pulling the contraption. Who was heading in this direction? She needed to hide but her dress made it impossible. She scurried toward the nearest hill, climbing over it, and then pressed her body flat against the ground, glancing up over the mound, curious as to who was approaching the estate she'd just run away from.

  Etta could not see who sat inside the carriage, whether it was a man or woman. She waited until the carriage was in the farthest reaches, distant and barely visible before she stood up and continued toward the train station. Lifting her feet higher, she picked up the pace, wanting to get there well before the train left. She did not want Thomas coming after her. She needed to be gone on whatever train came through town. It did not matter where it traveled to, she could always rethink her route later, if she could ever discover where Ashby was located.

  Etta felt her heart quicken at the sight of the train already waiting at the station. She jogged at a brisk pace, her heels making it difficult but not impossible for her to dash across the platform, grabbing the handrail as the train began to move. She jumped on, gripping the metal, and stepped in through the doors, out of breath.

  Taking a few calming drinks of air into her lungs, she walked toward the back of the car and grabbed an empty seat, sitting down. Resting her hands in her lap, her cheeks must have been flushed as a gentleman spun around in his seat, looking her over.

  "Nothing like running to catch the train to make you feel alive," he said.

  Etta smiled politely. "Yes." It was more than that, but the gentleman old enough to be her father did not need to know about it.

  From the window, she watched as the train sped up, the moors passing by at an unprecedented pace. She had never ridden by train before. There had been no need when she had tended to her father. The entire experience was foreign and felt strange but good.

  "Where are you going?" the gentleman asked, continuing to make polite conversation with her. He stood up, moving from his seat to sit across from her.

  Etta wished she had not said anything at all. A simple answer of 'yes' had surely made him think she was open to having a discussion. What would she say to ward off any doubts? "I am visiting a friend," she said. It was an easy lie, so long as she did not have to elaborate as to where. She did not even know where the train was taking her.

  His brown eyes crinkled and he smiled warmly at her. "I am on my way home to visit my girls and my wife. I have had some business to attend to."

  "How long since you have last seen them?" Etta asked, trying to make polite conversation while also steering the topic away from herself. She relaxed as she spoke to him, feeling slightly more at ease.

  "It has been three months."

  "That is surprising." She had not expected anyone to be away from their family for so long. "May I ask why?" She tried to remember her manners. She'd spent far too much time looking after her ailing father and then at the chateau to remember what it was like to be a grown up.

  "I work for the coastguard."

  "What's that like?" Etta knew he must have spent months at a time at sea. It seemed dreadful to leave his family behind.

  "Not bad if you do
not get seasick," he said, quirking a grin.

  "I take it you have a rock hard stomach?" Etta was not sure how she'd be on the water. She'd never been, and hoped never to find out, either. She could not swim, so what good would it do to travel near water?

  "Like you would not believe."

  The train slowed and Etta's eyes widened as she glanced out of the window. "Why are we stopping?" she asked. Her voice sounded frantic and she wiped her sweaty hands on her dress. Thomas could not have forced them to stop the train, could he have? He had quite a bit of money, but did he have the resources necessary to make such demands?

  "We are at the next station," the gentleman said. "You have never taken the train before, have you?"

  "Is it that obvious?" She laughed softly, staring down at her hands in her lap. She had worried for nothing. Etta had managed to escape Thomas, she had no reason to worry about him tracking her down. He would not know where she disembarked the train, and she would not remain at the station to help him figure it out, either.

  Chapter 22

  Philip rode through the night, letting his coachman drive while he slept in the carriage. It had not been comfortable, and he wondered how Etta had managed to fall asleep beside him that night not so long ago.

  As he rubbed his tired eyes, the morning light streamed in, and he looked out of the window as they rode through the moors. He'd given his coachman directions to the destination—though he had not known exactly where Thomas Maddock lived, he'd used the map to locate his whereabouts. He would find Etta, and when he did, hopefully she would be glad to see him. If she was not pleased, it might actually break his heart.

  Philip's stomach grumbled and he wished he'd have taken some food with him aside from having had dinner at Jack's home. He had not eaten much, having been too concerned about Etta. Now that was taking its toll, causing him to be tired and even more hungry as nausea set in.

  Resting his eyes momentarily, he relaxed until he felt a bump jolt him fully upright and awake. Glancing outside to see what the fuss was about, he noticed there were a few rocks and hills, but nothing that should have caused such a stir. The carriage continued moving without delay. At least there had not been any damage to the undercarriage or wheels from whatever they had hit.

  From the corner of his gaze, he caught sight of a glimmer of red, just over the hill. His eyes narrowed as he tried to examine what he was seeing, uncertain what could stand out so much in a sea of winter grass, dormant and dull.

  The gray sky, filled with clouds, stretched on as far as Philip could see. The air grew chilly, far more so than the previous night. Would it snow? He hoped that if it did, it would not be more than a light dusting. He intended to be on his way as soon as he saw Etta, and hopefully she'd accompany him back home.

  Rubbing his hands together to keep them warm, he shut the curtain for the carriage, keeping the cool air out. It darkened the small confined space but that never bothered him. There was enough light through the sheer fabric to give the impression of daylight still.

  "We are almost there!" the coachman shouted to Philip from outside.

  The gentleman must have been chilly, but he'd bundled up far warmer with gloves and a scarf. Philip had not found those items necessary when he'd left the chateau but the weather did change constantly without notice.

  His stomach felt as though it were on fire. Was it the lack of food, or the fear that was creeping up on him? What if Etta slammed the door in his face? It would not have been the first time he'd disappointed a young woman, although Etta was the first he had loved. He'd intended to marry her, and he had not changed his mind since the day he met her. His feelings had grown stronger, and he prayed she felt the same way.

  The coach pulled to a halt and Philip waited for the coachman to open the door, knowing it was safe to step outside.

  A few snowflakes drifted from the sky, one landing on his cheek. He brushed the cold dampness aside and stalked up to the front step of the estate.

  Thomas Maddock had no doubt done well for himself. His home was quite elegant from the outside, not as large as the chateau, but impressive all the same, with two stories of brick. It wasn't the height so much as the width of the house, it seemed to extend beyond that of a typical property.

  Philip knocked with a brisk force, wanting to be quick with introductions and invited inside.

  There was no answer.

  He grabbed the handle and tried the door, shifting on his feet. His hands were growing red and numb, the cold seeming unbearable the longer he knocked using the metal handle to jar the attention of someone inside.

  From behind the wooden door, he heard the heavy pound of footsteps and then a sequence of clicks to the lock.

  "May I help you?" a gentleman answered.

  "I am looking for Etta Waters."

  The man frowned. "You are searching for Mr. Maddock's betrothed. She is upstairs, I believe. Come on inside."

  Philip stepped inside the large home, his coachman right behind him in the foyer.

  "Can I help you?" A second gentleman in dark trousers and matching vest came down the stairs. "I am Thomas Maddock. If you have something to say to Etta, you will do it through me."

  Philip grimaced. He had not even considered that he would not be allowed to speak with her. "What is it you see in Miss Waters?" Philip asked. "It is certainly not that you two have known each other, because if that were the case, surely she would have known about the arrangement of marriage."

  "I do not know what you mean," Thomas said, approaching the stranger standing by the door. "What is it to you?"

  "I am Philip Hartley," he said. "The headmaster of the Ashby Chateau, the finishing school you withdrew Etta from without my permission."

  "I did not realize permission was needed, considering she is to be my wife." Thomas stood toe-to-toe with Philip.

  Philip did not so much as blink. "She was brought in by her uncle's admission, Jack Waters. He is the only one allowed to withdraw her from my care. I demand to see her at once, to know that she is in good health and well cared for before leaving."

  Thomas balled his hands into fists. "What business is it of yours?"

  "It is my business when you snatch a young girl from my school! A decent gentleman would provide me with the paperwork to prove that you are her guardian and that you will be removing her from my institution. What you did constitutes kidnapping."

  "That is insane," Thomas said, his eyes narrowing as he spun around, heading for the stairs. "She is up in her room. You can speak with her, but I must be present. I cannot have her consorting with any men without a chaperone. It would not be appropriate."

  "Of course," Philip said. He followed Thomas up the stairwell and down the hall.

  "Etta." Thomas knocked on the closed bedroom door. "There is someone here to speak with you. Open the door."

  When there was no response, Thomas turned the silver handle and pushed the bedroom door open, revealing an empty bed and quiet room.

  "Where is she, Mr. Maddock?" Philip asked, his temper rising.

  "I am sure she is around somewhere with the girls. Nanny Joan!" Thomas barked for the girls' attendant as he stormed down the stairs to the playroom.

  "Yes, Mr. Maddock?" Nanny Joan stepped out from the room with the children, closing the door behind her to protect the little ones.

  "Where is Etta? Is she in there with you?" Thomas asked.

  "No, sir." Nanny Joan shook her head. "The girls are playing quietly. Have you checked outside? Or perhaps asked the governess? I do remember Etta mentioning that she'd like to pick up a few gowns of her own."

  Thomas ignored the nanny's suggestions. He opened every hall closet and door, searching for the young lady who had gone missing. "Etta! I swear, when I find you—"

  "You will what?" Philip asked, watching Thomas very closely. He would not let anyone hurt Etta, not so long as he was alive.

  "The devil needs to be beaten out of her. Running away, hiding from me. How am I expected to mar
ry a woman who keeps such secrets?" Thomas' cheeks burned. "I will not have any of it!"

  "Perhaps you should not marry her," Philip said. It seemed now was as good a time as any to try and remind Thomas that Etta was more than just a girl on a piece of paper. She meant something to him, and if Thomas did not love her, then she deserved better.

  "Excuse me?" Thomas spun around on his heels. "What do you know about it?"

  "I know that Etta spent time at the chateau and never once attempted to hide or run away. You must have done something awful to make her feel so frightened."

  "She is soft. It will take time to break the young girl in." Thomas walked toward the back door. Opening it, he peered outside. "It is freezing. She could not have gone far."

  "What was she wearing this morning?" Philip asked. "I assume you saw her this morning?" Could he have seen Etta without even realizing it on his carriage ride to the estate?

  "A red dress that had been my late wife's. Dark red, the color of blood."

  "It sounds lovely," Philip said and sighed. "I see that she is gone. My suggestion would be to find yourself a new wife. One who has the desire to stick around for longer than a day." Philip headed for the door, his coachman sitting in the foyer. "It is time to go."

  The coachman stood and followed Philip outside. He waited until the door was shut before approaching the gentleman with gloves and a scarf. It was amazing how he could remember all the littles' names, but when it came to staff, Philip knew he failed in many regards. "Sir. Take me back on the road we came, but keep following it as far as you can. Do not turn off and head south. The girl we are searching for—I think I saw her running away."

  "Yes, sir." The man helped Philip into the coach. "If I may speak freely, sir?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "There is a train station not too far from here. If I were a young woman and running away, I would try and make it to the train station."