Dawn at Emberwilde

by Sarah E. Ladd

  Here, she would be reprimanded as well.

  Begrudgingly, she returned to the chair and allowed Burns to draw a comb through the curly strands, wincing as the woman caught on a tangle. They sat in silence, Burns focused on her work and Isabel with her eyes fixed on the window facing the Emberwilde Forest.

  She hurried Burns along. She wanted to keep a sharp eye on her sister.

  Colin slowed his steps to match Ellison’s more labored ones. Ellison had missed the Atwell party due to an illness, and today was the first day he had been well enough to meet with Colin to discuss the progress of their investigation. Even now, Ellison seemed unwell.

  They had just returned from a walk in Emberwilde Forest, where Colin had shown Ellison the tunnels. The contraband was still being removed, and Ellison had placed two of his hired men to watch the forest. The effort seemed to curtail activity for the time being.

  “It seems everything is secure, but for how long?” mused Ellison. “The Emberwilde Forest is a large one. Who knows where else they have these tunnels.”

  “We’ll not give up. We will find them and stop it at the source. And I have been meaning to ask you, have you thought any more about the watch that we discovered?”

  Ellison frowned as he lumbered down the cobbled path.

  “This is where I leave you, unless you fancy a bit of a beverage.”

  “No, thank you. I am taking your advice, you will be happy to know. Later today I am meeting with some of my tenants who have fallen behind on rent. My goal is to arrange for them to clear the main estate lands in lieu of back rent. Hopefully we can reach an agreement with them on the terms. Like you said, there is no time like the present.”

  Ellison’s face brightened at the news. “There now, that is good news indeed. Mark my words, you’ll have that property up and running in no time.”

  Colin watched as the older man headed up the stairs. He had thought he was far too mature for such feelings, but it felt good to know the older man was proud of him. Since Colin’s uncle died, Ellison had taken him under his wing and offered him a great deal of guidance—some of which he took, and some that he let be. But he respected the man’s experience, and even despite his financial trouble, Colin trusted his advice.

  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

  Colin 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.

  But what tugged at her heart the most was the manner in which Lizzie looked at him. Her smile was genuine, her expression trusting. Mr. Galloway held the horse’s head low so Lizzie could brush the soft muzzle with her hand, then he straightened.

  Without prompting or reminder, Lizzie offered an unbalanced curtsy to her rescuer and in her most grown-up voice said, “Thank you, Mr. Galloway.”

  Mr. Galloway returned Lizzie’s address with a slight bow, but did not move.

  Lizzie ran toward Isabel.

  Isabel’s heart flipped when she did. For how could
she stay angry or upset? She was only happy that Lizzie was home. Safe.

  Isabel knelt in the grass as her sister drew near and put her arm around Isabel’s shoulder. Lizzie’s pinafore was covered with mud. It marred her stockings. It was even in her hair.

  Isabel brushed her sister’s dirty cheek and softened her voice. “Lizzie, what were you thinking? What were you doing in the forest?”

  Lizzie lowered her voice and whispered. “There were men, and I got scared.”

  Isabel forced a swallow. Her throat felt dry. Too narrow. She exchanged a somber glance with Mr. Galloway before returning her attention to the child. The thought of her small sister, alone and tiny in the presence of such men, unsettled her to her very core. “Tell me the truth, Lizzie, did they hurt you?”

  The child shook her head, her damaged ribbon floating in the spring breeze, her tousled hair tangled and catching in the mud on her cheek. “No. They didn’t see me at all. I hid, but they found my doll’s blanket and took it. I want it back.”

  “Well, a blanket is a small price to pay. You could have been hurt very badly, do you understand?”

  The child bit her lip and nodded.

  “We need to get you cleaned up, and preferably before Aunt sees you.” Isabel lifted her gaze to Mr. Galloway. He, too, was smeared with dirt. But at the sight, she felt relieved.

  When no one else at Emberwilde would take her concerns seriously, he came to her aid.

  “Run on in now and go to your chamber,” she said to Lizzie. “Take the back stairs and ring for Burns. She will help you. Whatever you do, try to avoid Aunt, all right? I will be up in a few minutes.”

  She stood and watched as the child walked back to Emberwilde with very fast, very controlled steps.

  She did not turn back to Mr. Galloway until she saw Constance escort her sister inside. “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Galloway. I don’t know how long she would have stayed hidden if not for you. It seems you are developing quite a habit of assisting those who meet trouble in the forest.”

  She was about to turn and follow Lizzie when Mr. Galloway’s words stopped her. “I do not wish to take much of your time, Miss Creston, but I was hoping for a moment.”