The Proposal

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by Lori Wick


  Megan, the head housekeeper, worked all over the house. Unlike Cook, she was rail thin, and the children had never seen her idle. She could be seen in any room of the large home and at all times of the day, giving orders to the other housemaids and taking notes on a paper pad she carried in her apron pocket.

  “What have we here?” she asked as she bent to see the small tear. She straightened and smiled down at Penny. “I can mend that for you. I’ll just find my sewing box and a length of sheeting.”

  Not until Penny was swathed in the sheet did she realize Megan’s intention. Modest in the white covering, Penny watched as Megan drew forth needle and thread. Cook pulled a chair close so the little girl could sit down, and after James joined her, she gave them glasses of milk.

  “What did you catch your dress on, Miss Penny?” Megan asked, intending to soothe the worried lines she saw on Penny’s small forehead.

  “On a rosebush.”

  “They can be tricky,” Megan said with compassion.

  And that was only the beginning. With Cook, Megan, and even Mr Collins working together, the children were made to feel quite at ease, and the dress was repaired without fuss or bother.

  “Lunch is in two hours,” Cook told them when Penny was finally back in her clothing, ribbons tied and in place. “But don’t forget to stop for cookies this afternoon.”

  “Thank you,” James said in a very grown-up manner to the adults who had helped them and been so kind. “Come along, Penny,” he said quietly to his sister as he led her away. “I think we should play in our room for a time.”

  Jennings was growing weary. Thomas’ company was not overly taxing; indeed, the lad had a soothing way about him, but he’d not had much sleep the night before, and after leading the conversation for the better part of two hours, he felt a little worn.

  That was when he spotted her, or rather them. Five women in dark clothing, pushing prams or with children at their sides. Jennings stared at the nannies in the park as though he had never seen the like.

  Why such a solution had never occurred to him he did not know, but he realized quite suddenly that his problems with Penny were over. He would hire a nanny. He and his sister had had one for years, and they’d gotten along just fine.

  “Shall we head back?” Jennings suggested, seeing no need to mention his thoughts to his young charge. He was a man used to suiting his own needs and being in charge of his own destiny. Asked about it, he would have said it was the Jennings’ way.

  “Certainly, sir. I thank you for inviting me.”

  “Not at all, Thomas. We’ll have to come again soon.”

  It was on Thomas’ mind to ask if James could go the next time, but he didn’t wish to appear presumptuous. It occurred to him for the first time what an awkward feeling it was to be a guest. He wasn’t at home, and he wasn’t visiting. Until Jennings took it upon himself to boot them to the curb, London was where they would stay, but would it ever feel like home? The question nagged Thomas all the way back to Aydon, the grand home on Rumney Street.

  “Did you find it?” Penny asked, looking very excited as James walked around their bedroom.

  “Not yet,” James replied, lying to spare her. At times he was harsh with his sister, even knowing how wrong it was, but not now, not since their father died. In the past he would not have hesitated to tell her that her hiding place was ridiculous, but not this time. He had spotted the marble she hid some three minutes past but continued to look for it in an effort to entertain her.

  “Am I close?” he tried, having to avert his eyes or see the shiny, dark sphere near the fireplace.

  “Very close!” Penny said, all but dancing in excitement.

  “Found it!” James cried, managing to sound surprised.

  “Will you hide it for me, James? I want to look.”

  James remembered to keep it easy. He stood for a time, not hiding the marble or moving, just missing his father and Thomas.

  “Is it time?” came Penny’s muffled voice; she was hiding her face against the bed.

  “Almost,” he said and forced himself to hide the marble.

  It took Penny a while to locate it, and that was fine with James. He had wandered to the windows that overlooked the street and watched a man walk past. With marble in hand, Penny joined her brother at the window.

  “When is Thomas coming back?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “To a park.”

  “Do you think we can go, James, do you think?”

  “No, Penny. I don’t know where the park is.”

  Outside the window, another man walked by. He had a dog on a leash.

  “Who is he?”

  “I don’t know,” James said, his voice growing a bit testy.

  Penny turned to frown at him, and both children heard the door. Still in his riding togs, Thomas entered.

  “Here you are,” Thomas said. “I thought you might be in the yard.”

  “We were,” James began and then told the story.

  Thomas was just as tempted as James had been to react to Penny’s crying over a torn dress, but he kept the thoughts to himself.

  “Where did you ride, Thomas?” James wished to know, and both the younger Jenningses sat quietly while Thomas explained his outing.

  “Will James ride sometime?” Penny asked.

  “I don’t know, Pen. I hope so.”

  “Did Mr Jennings say anything about my riding, Thomas?”

  “No, but he seems a fair man, James,” Thomas told him, hoping it was true. “I think he’ll invite you sometime.”

  Thomas slipped into the dressing room to change from his riding clothes, his young heart trying to deal with all the changes while still in the midst of mourning.

  “Oh, Papa,” he whispered ever so softly, “I miss you so.”

  “This is Mrs Smith,” Jennings said for the second time just two days later. The first introduction had been to Bates and Mr Collins. Now the children were meeting Penny’s nanny.

  “She’s going to stay with you, Penny, and be your nanny.”

  James’ face showed his surprise, Thomas’ expression was utterly unreadable, and Penny was frozen with fear. She had had a nanny at home, but that lady, a Mrs Beesley, had been rosy-cheeked and smiling. This woman was serious. Mrs Beesley had been young. The bun at the back of Mrs Smith’s head was iron gray.

  “You’ll be moving into the nursery, Penny, and Mrs Smith will have the room that adjoins yours.” Jennings turned to the boys with a smile, completely missing the children’s response. “You boys will have the bedroom all to yourselves.”

  Thomas waited for their cousin to ask how that sounded, or if everyone thought this a grand idea, but no question was voiced.

  “Come along, Penny,” Mrs Smith said calmly, and Thomas tried to relax. She didn’t sound shrewish and could have been anyone’s grandmother, but Penny’s face was hard to ignore. She did as she was told, but Thomas’ last glimpse of his sister told him she was afraid.

  “Well, now, boys,” Jennings said, wasting no time. “I have some things to show you in my study. Do you like maps?”

  The boys loved maps—they were captivated by them, just as their father had been. James wondered if such an interest could run in the family. As for Thomas, questions about where Mrs Smith had come from and what their sister’s schedule would look like were voiced only in his mind. With a chance for little more than a glance toward the stairs where they’d last seen their sister and her new nanny, the boys followed Jennings into the study, where he shut the door on the rest of the house.

  “Now, Penny,” Mrs Smith said in her quiet voice—they had just arrived in the nursery, a room Penny had not known existed—“I don’t like noisy little children. Do you know how to be a quiet little girl?”

  Penny nodded, her eyes huge and sober.

  “I’m so glad,” Mrs Smith praised her. “I don’t want to be forced to punish you.”

  Penny coul
dn’t stop the trembling that started in her limbs, but she made no sound.

  “I’m going into my room to get settled. You stay in here and play, and I’ll check on you later. Do you understand?”

  Penny nodded.

  “Answer me, Penny.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the little girl managed in a very soft voice.

  Mrs Smith turned away, a contented smile on her face. She was too old to chase unruly children, but she needed this job. The fear she’d seen on her charge’s small face told her this little girl would be no trouble to control. And that worked just fine for Mrs Smith’s achy back and legs.

  “I feel funny about Penny,” James admitted to his brother when they climbed into separate beds that night.

  “Yes, I do too.”

  “Why didn’t we see her at dinner or lunch?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t even know where the nursery is, but if you remember, Mrs Beesley often ate with us in our nursery.”

  “Do you think Penny will be in the garden in the morning?”

  “I don’t know, James. I don’t even know if we’ll be in the garden in the morning. Try to sleep.”

  The room was quiet for a time, but James did not sleep. After several minutes, he spoke again.

  “I’m afraid, Thomas.”

  “Of what?”

  “I’m afraid Mr Jennings will make us leave.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “What if we don’t do as he says? What if he decides he doesn’t like us?”

  Thomas had no answer. It didn’t seem as though Mr Jennings had hard feelings toward them; indeed, he seemed to accept them into his home with amazing ease. But it was also very clear that he was a man who liked having his own way. Thomas had no desire to be uncharitable in his assessment. After all, Jennings had given them a home almost sight unseen, but something was not right in this situation, and Thomas had yet to place his finger on it.

  “Try to sleep, James,” Thomas said again, not sure what answer to give his brother. He was so tired of feeling like a parent when at twelve he so desperately needed one himself.

  “I will, Thomas, but I think we need to do everything Mr Jennings says. I think we need to obey at all times, so he doesn’t boot us out.”

  Thomas did not attempt to reply to this. As he’d been doing every night before he fell asleep, he prayed and asked God to help him. But this night’s prayers for himself were brief. His sister heavy on his mind, he prayed that Penny would be all right and not missing them too much.

  “Where are you going, Penny?” Mrs Smith asked the next morning, causing the little girl to jump and turn in surprise. Penny backed against the door she’d been reaching for but didn’t answer her nanny.

  “Come here, Penny,” Mrs Smith said, her voice not as nice or soft.

  Penny told herself to move but couldn’t quite manage the act. She wanted to speak, but Mrs Smith’s face had begun to look cross.

  “Come here, Penny,” she ordered, and this time Penny managed to move. It must not have been fast enough, however, since Mrs Smith covered the distance and took her upper arm in a harsh grip. Squeezing hard and holding Penny’s arm at an awkward angle, she marched her back into the middle of the room before giving her a hard shake.

  “You will come when I tell you, and you will leave the nursery when I tell you. Not before. Do I make myself clear?”

  Penny nodded, but Mrs Smith shook her again.

  “Answer me!”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Finally released, Penny stood looking up at her nanny, afraid to speak or move.

  “Come now.” Mrs Smith’s voice was soft again. “You must eat your breakfast.”

  Tears filled Penny’s eyes. She was supposed to eat in the dining room with Thomas and James. Didn’t Mrs Smith know that?

  “What’s the matter?” Mrs Smith, seeing the tears, inquired. Her voice didn’t sound angry, but with more strength than necessary she took Penny’s arm again and marched her to the small table by the window.

  “Sit here. I’ll bring your food.”

  Penny rubbed her arm as her nanny went toward the tray, but she didn’t speak or try to go toward the nursery door again. A noise from the street pulled her attention to the window, and she looked that way. She watched a man and lady walking together under an umbrella. They had a little dog. Penny looked down at the pup. He was cute, but not even the sight of him could take her mind from the pain of her arm.

  “Do they go out at all?” Cook asked Megan, her brow lowered in irritation. The dough she was working on was taking a severe beating.

  “Not that I know of,” Megan replied, working on a cup of tea and some biscuits. “How many days has it been?”

  “Three! She’s not even friendly when she comes down here, and I haven’t seen so much as a peek of Miss Penny! Doesn’t the old bat know that little girls need fresh air?”

  “Clearly not. I told her Miss Penny was welcome in the kitchen and that you had a cookie for her, but I was told that Miss Penny had had enough sweets.”

  Cook snorted in anger. “With the spread of that old girl’s hips, she’s probably eatin’ both puddings!”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  The kitchen was silent for a time, save for the pounding of Cook’s fists and the soft clatter of Megan’s cup on the saucer. The silence lasted for some time. In fact, Megan was pouring herself another cup when Cook suddenly joined her at the table.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Cook said, her voice dropping in a conspiratorial manner, but before she could continue, Mr Collins came on the scene.

  “Cook, Mr Jennings would like the dinner hour moved. He and the boys have gone riding and will be returning late.”

  “What time?” Cook said, rising to check her bread dough.

  As Mr Collins gave the updated time, Megan went back to her duties. She hadn’t heard what Cook’s plan had been concerning Penny and Mrs Smith, but that was probably for the best. They both enjoyed working for Mr Jennings, and neither one wanted to lose her job.

  Chapter Three

  “I have something to show you boys,” Jennings said.

  The boys had come to expect these words, as nearly every day began the same way. Had it not been for the fact that they hadn’t seen Penny in five days, it might have been idyllic. Mr Jennings kept them so busy they barely had time to miss their father. They went horseback riding, visited the London Botanical Gardens and the Compt Museum, and shopped in elite stores where the boys were outfitted in several new suits of clothing, bought stylish hats, and were even given riding crops by their new benefactor.

  “This,” Jennings proclaimed with pride, “is a pocket globe.”

  “Look, Thomas!” James exclaimed.

  Thomas needed no urging. The pocket globe, just three inches in size, was captivating in detail, closing inside a small round case that showed the constellations of the stars inside. Jennings allowed the boys to hold it and look to their hearts’ content. They smiled in delight as they located Africa, the United States, and of course, England.

  “Where did you find it?” James wished to know.

  “In a novelty shop on Bond Street. We’ll have to visit there sometime. I think you might find it interesting. Thomas, what did we do with the map we studied yesterday, the small one?”

  “It’s in my room. Shall I get it?”

  “Please do. This tiny globe was copied from that, and I want you to see the details so you can compare them.”

  Thomas was off just a moment later, taking the stairs two at a time on long, youthful legs. He went directly to his room, to the table near his bed, and found the map. When he turned back he was surprised to see his sister a few feet inside the room.

  “Penny!” he said with great pleasure as he approached her. “Look at your hair! Mrs Smith made it look very pretty.” This said, Thomas took a chair near the door. “What are you doing?” he asked, his heart so glad to see her.

  “Mrs Smith said I could wa
lk in the hallway,” she said quietly and then abruptly announced, “I have to go.” With that the little girl began to move away.

  “Wait, Penny,” Thomas said, a small measure of amusement in his voice. Did his sister think she would be in trouble if she spoke to him?

  But Penny didn’t stop. She moved away from her older brother, who put his hand around her upper arm to stop her.

  “Oh, please, Thomas—” Penny turned in obvious pain, shocking him in the process. “Please don’t touch my arm. It already hurts.”

  “Why does your arm hurt?” Thomas asked, letting go at the same time.

  “I have to go,” Penny said, looking well and truly panicked now.

  Coming to his feet, Thomas took his sister by the shoulders, feeling her flinch again, and moved her to the chair he’d just vacated.

  “Sit down.”

  Jennings chose that moment to investigate what had become of Thomas. He walked through the doorway unannounced.

  “Thomas, what’s keeping you?” he asked, his voice tinged with irritation.

  “I need to see my sister,” Thomas said, facing him squarely.

  “Can’t that wait?”

  “No,” Thomas stopped the man by answering firmly. “James,” Thomas went on when that little boy appeared in the doorway, “come in here. I wish to see you and Penny.”

  “Thomas,” James asked in fear as he walked toward his siblings, having seen the thundercloud on his brother’s face, “what are you doing?”

  “Come in, James,” he said without answering.

  “Thomas,” James was ready to panic now. “Mr Jennings is going to throw us out.”

  “That is certainly his prerogative,” Thomas stated, his voice resolved but at the same time missing the shock on Jennings’ face as he turned on James’ words. “And that goes for Mrs Smith too,” Thomas added when that lady made an appearance in the doorway. “I’m going to spend some time with my brother and sister.”

  Her face expressionless, Mrs Smith nodded and bowed her way back out the door. Jennings looked at Thomas’ set features and spoke quietly.

 

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