by Lori Wick
Bates smiled. “Even Cook cried when the children were discovered missing, sir.”
“Good, good,” Jennings said softly. He knew he was going to need more help, but at least this was a start. He couldn’t overburden the staff with the care of the children along with their other duties, but something had been working before Mrs Smith arrived, and he must find out what it was. At least he assumed it was working, as the children had given no indication of fleeing.
A moment of panic rushed through Jennings when he thought about their leaving again. He couldn’t watch the doors at all hours of the day, nor did he want to live like that. The thought, however, of their going and his not being able to find them was very disquieting indeed.
“And, Bates,” Jennings called to his man before he could fully exit the room. “Tell Cook to prepare an early lunch, a sumptuous one.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
Left on his own, Jennings sat pensively behind his desk, his mind running with the events of the day and his desire to find Mrs Smith and bring her to justice. Thinking the children might need him, he kept the study door open so he could keep an eye on the stairs, but at least for the moment he was on his own. That was when he spotted it again: the latest letter from his sister.
Usually such missives were dropped into a file drawer, unopened and unheeded, but today, for the first time in more years than he could recall, he opened the letter from Mrs Frank Palmer.
Dear Jennings, it began.
I hope this finds you well. How is London’s weather just now? We’re growing warmer by the day, and the flowers must be loving it as they are in full bloom. Does your own garden still give you pleasure?
Did you hear from our cousin Godwin Jennings’ solicitor? I don’t recall that I ever met Godwin, at least not for years, but I was saddened to hear of his death. Palmer and I have wondered what must have become of the children. Did you hear anything? I can’t help but wonder if they match any of the ages of our four.
Jennings could not keep reading. The last he knew his sister had two children. To learn that he’d been this far out of touch was very upsetting. His dealings with children of late, and now this reminder, helped him to see what a selfish creature he’d become.
Rising slowly from his desk, he went in search of Bates. He wanted to know how Cook was coming with lunch, as he planned to join the children.
Thomas’ heart burgeoned at the efforts of their benefactor. He’d come in just after they’d sat down to lunch and asked if he could join them. The boys, fairly comfortable with Mr Jennings, had no qualms. Penny, however, had shrunken in her chair a little. Jennings was not put off. He glanced her way several times and eventually ventured forth.
“Do you have enough milk, Penny? Would you like a little more?”
“Yes, please.”
Forgetting herself for the moment, Penny put Mr Pat on the table so she could reach for her glass.
“What is this?” Jennings asked, his voice showing real interest.
Penny nearly upset her milk in her swift effort to put the glass down and take the porcelain figure from the tabletop. She bit her lip in fear, her hands holding the figurine in her lap.
“You can show it to Mr Jennings, Penny,” Thomas encouraged. “He’d like to see it.”
Reluctance showing in every move, her look guarded, Penny gently placed a small bunny dressed in a dapper blue coat on the table next to her plate.
“It’s a rabbit wearing a coat.”
“Mr Pat,” Penny said softly.
“His name is Mr Pat?”
“He was my mother’s.”
Jennings smiled at her. “I’m glad you have something that belonged to her, Penny. I’m sure she would be pleased to know you enjoy it.”
Penny smiled shyly, and in order to rescue her, Jennings went back to his lunch. He ate calmly until he found Thomas’ eyes on him.
“They’re not as frightening as you first thought, are they, sir?” the young man asked.
“What aren’t, Thomas?”
“Little girls.”
Jennings laughed, the first laugh the children had ever heard from him.
“No, they aren’t, Thomas,” he had to agree. “No, indeed.”
“See to it that the children have plenty to wear and have any of their favorite belongings packed as well,” Jennings told Bates much later that same day. He’d added this last order since Mr Pat had also been in attendance at the dinner table. “If all goes according to plan, I’ll be sending for the staff, but for now, have Collins keep things busy here.”
He’d finally made it back to the study and finished his sister’s letter. He’d read it through twice. Not having received a reply in all these years did not seem to have put her off. His sister’s letter was sanguine and caring. And the note at the bottom was one he could not ignore.
I know how busy you must be, Jennings, but should you ever have time to write or stop in, it would be lovely to see you or hear from you.
Much as William Jennings knew that he did not deserve a sister such as he had, he was not going to ignore this offer. If he’d had more time, he would have gone back and read all his sister’s letters, but right now he just wanted to see her. He wanted to talk with her and Frank Palmer, and share with them this event that had happened in his life. Even knowing that his not calling on them until he had a need was a selfish act, he hoped they would forgive him for the children’s sake.
“We’ll be off just after breakfast tomorrow.”
“Very well, sir,” Bates said, all the while making notes. “Do you wish Megan or one of the other housemaids to go along to make Miss Penny more comfortable?”
“I think we can manage,” Jennings said. “She’s quite content with her brothers, and they deal with her needs most competently.”
Bates was taking more notes when there came a soft knock on the doorframe. The men looked to see Thomas standing just outside.
“Did you wish to see me, sir?”
“Yes, Thomas. Come in. That will be all, Bates.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sit down, Thomas. I wish to ask you a question.” Jennings waited only until Thomas was comfortable in one of the large leather armchairs to begin. “I’m trying to understand something, Thomas. It might seem obvious to you, but I need a little help.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Before Mrs Smith came, were you hoping to get away from Aydon?”
“No, sir.”
“I repeat, this might seem clear to you, but I need to ask, why?”
“Because Penny was safe then, and we were able to see her.”
“So if I had insisted that you come on rides with me or come in here for a lesson of some sort that would have excluded Penny, would you have tried to leave?”
“I would have been most uncomfortable leaving Penny on her own, but I don’t think I would have taken such action if she was not being harmed. If she was upset and lonely, I would have tried refusing you, if not—” Thomas finished with a shrug since he didn’t honestly know what course he would have chosen.
But Jennings had heard enough. He had suspected as much, and now Thomas confirmed it. It shouldn’t have been such a mystery to him, but it had been.
“Thank you for explaining to me, Thomas. Now, I need to tell you that we’re leaving in the morning.”
Thomas nodded.
“My sister and her family live near Collingbourne. We’ll be leaving after breakfast, quite possibly for an extended stay.”
“All of us, sir?”
“Yes. I told Bates that we did not need one of the women for Penny, but if you’d rather she have someone along, he can arrange that.”
“Will Penny be with us the entire time?”
“Yes, certainly.”
“James and I can take care of her, sir.”
“I felt confident you could.”
A high-pitched shriek sailed through the doorway just then, and Jennings came half out of his seat.
“Was that Penny?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Should we see to her?”
“No,” Thomas said with a smile. “She and James are playing in the nursery. Would you like me to tell them to quiet down?”
“No,” Jennings said slowly, his face thoughtful. “They don’t need to quiet down at all.” He was quiet himself for a moment before adding, “My sister and I used to play in that nursery.”
Thomas nodded and watched the older man for a moment. Something had certainly changed in him that day. Just twenty-four hours earlier, Thomas was ready never to see him again, but the young man could now see that Mr Jennings had been completely unaware of Penny’s needs. He had not been malicious, just inattentive.
It gave Thomas no end of comfort to know that his father had been right: God would never leave them or fail to see to their needs.
“Breakfast is served,” Mr Collins said to James when he opened the door of the bedroom.
“Thank you,” James said before turning to the other two occupants, letting the door fall open in the process, and adding, “I told you.”
“Well, go and eat!” Thomas said impatiently. “We’ll come as swiftly as we can.”
“Ouch! That hurts,” Penny cried, her brow lowered in anger and pain.
“If you’ll recall, Penelope Jennings,” her brother said ruthlessly, “I wanted to braid this last night and you wouldn’t let me, so now you have snarls.”
Watching them bicker but knowing that breakfast was ready, James stood in indecision before heading down the hallway. Mr Collins had gone on his way. Megan was needed and without delay. Thomas was still struggling with his sister’s dark, curly mane when the head housekeeper came to the door.
“Why, Miss Penny,” she called, entering without invitation, “I think you must have the kindest brother in all of England to help you with your hair.”
Penny didn’t look quite so mulish with Megan in the room, and in fact her heart smarted over how cross she had been to Thomas.
“May I help you, Master Thomas, or do you have things managed?”
“I would very much appreciate your help,” Thomas replied, his voice and face showing his relief. “I can’t brush it out without hurting her.”
“You start from the bottom,” Megan said calmly, having taken the brush in hand. “You work the lower snarls out first and then make your way to the top.”
“Oh, I see.” Thomas watched in amazement at the difference Megan’s deft hand movements had already made.
“Why don’t you go and have some breakfast, Master Thomas? I’ll have Penny to you in no time.”
“Thank you, Megan,” Thomas said before making his way from the room. Head down, knowing they were running late, he all but collided with Jennings in the hallway.
“Problems, Thomas?” he asked calmly, although he was eager to get under way.
“My sister has enough hair for three six-year-olds!”
Jennings’ hand came to his mouth. He didn’t think he’d seen Thomas frustrated with Penny and found it amusing.
“Are things under control?”
“Megan is seeing to her.”
“I’ll go along in and escort her down when she’s ready. Go and eat.”
Thomas gladly went on his way, and Jennings slipped into the children’s room. Megan was well along in her efforts, but still Jennings took a nearby chair to watch.
“How is it coming, Megan?”
“Just fine, sir. She won’t be long now.”
Jennings sat quietly and watched the process. He also watched Penny watching him back and knew he should say something. He opted for the first thing that came to mind.
“You have very pretty hair, Penny.”
“It’s long,” she said, her face apologetic and a bit grim.
“That’s true. Has it ever been cut?”
“No.”
“So it’s been growing for six years,” Jennings figured quietly.
“It has?” Penny asked, her face showing surprise.
Jennings smiled a little. If she stayed as pretty in later years as she was today, he’d have no trouble at all finding a man to marry her. The thought had no more materialized when he realized it wouldn’t be that simple. If he didn’t find a man that would care for her, he wouldn’t want her to leave the safety of his home. It was not something he’d considered before but was now quite certain of.
“All set!” Megan said triumphantly, interrupting his premature musings.
“What do we say, Penny?” Jennings encouraged, remembering the way his nanny had reminded him.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Penny.”
“Do you have Mr Pat?” Jennings stood and asked.
The little girl nodded.
“Then let’s be off to breakfast and on our way.”
Not certain if he should take her hand or not, Jennings opted to let her walk on her own. Dressed, hair in place, and with someplace specific to go, Penny didn’t seem at all threatening to the thirty-three-year-old bachelor, but if the truth be told, most of the time he had not a clue as to what to do with this adorable little girl.
After staying overnight in Newbury, the small group made much of the rest of their journey in silence. Sometimes, however, there was nonstop talking as Jennings explained points of interest to the children or they asked questions.
Jennings could feel a tenseness coming over him the closer the carriage drew to Tipton, Frank and Lydia Palmer’s home. Would they welcome him after so many years? Would they take one look at him toting three children to their door and promptly slam the portal in his face? Jennings didn’t wish for the children to know his angst over the matter, but he thought he caught Thomas’ gaze on him from time to time. It was a cheeky move, his coming like this, and he knew it. His pride was on the line—that was all too evident— but right now he thought it worth the risk.
“Are we near, Mr Jennings?” James suddenly asked.
“We are, James. How is that book coming?”
“I’ve read it before,” James told him kindly, wondering at the fact that the older man had already asked him that question.
“Has it been some time since you’ve seen your sister, Mr Jennings?” This came from Thomas.
“As a matter of fact, it has,” Jennings felt relieved to admit. “I didn’t send word ahead, and now I rather wish I had.”
Thomas nodded and looked out the window. Had Mr Jennings been his father and not a guardian, he would have asked all sorts of questions, such as where they would stay, whether this family had children, and so on. As it was, he felt it best to take his cue from the older Jennings and keep silent when he was silent.
“There’s Tipton now,” Mr Jennings said at last, and the children vied for position at the window to see a grand home in a picturesque setting.
“They have a pond!” James noticed.
“Let me see,” Penny said, but both boys were in the way.
“Look at the size of that tree,” Thomas said in awe.
“I can’t see,” Penny tried again.
“Come here, Penny.” Jennings was happy to rescue her and take his mind from the imminent meeting. He was so distracted by seeing his sister that he didn’t actually take note of the fact that Penny allowed herself to be lifted into his lap so she could see out his window. The carriage was pulling up the long drive before they both noticed where she was. Penny moved to the seat next to him, looked up into his face, and then quickly looked down again in embarrassment.
Jennings thought about patting her little knee or making some gesture but was uncertain what to do. On top of that, he was out of time. The carriage was coming to a halt and Thomas was turning to him.
“May we see the pond, sir?”
“Yes, Thomas, but do keep a close eye on Penny.”
Jennings allowed the children to scramble from the carriage and head to the pond.
“Keep well back now!” he called to them as he emerged from t
he coach and then stood by while they went near the water, Penny’s small hand tucked into Thomas’. He knew the edge was not deep but still kept watch for a few minutes.
Jennings’ head eventually tipped back, and he looked up at the cloudless blue sky. It had been a long time since he’d been in this part of the country, and he had forgotten its beauty. His eyes were taking in the familiar details, the rolling hills and valleys, when he realized he was being watched.
Not far outside the front door stood his sister. Jennings glanced at the children before turning fully to cover the distance to his only sibling.
“Jennings,” Lydia said when he neared, tears standing in her eyes.
“Liddy.” Jennings’ voice was just as quiet with emotion as he came forward to hug her and kiss her cheek. Lydia gladly returned the embrace and then looked up at him when he stepped back, his hands still on her arms.
“You look well, Liddy.”
“As do you, Jennings,” she said before glancing toward the pond. “Godwin’s children?”
“Yes.”
“They came to you.” Her voice held all the wonder she felt.
“Over a fortnight ago.”
“Palmer and I have spoken of them many times. We received the solicitor’s letter and thought you might be in line as guardian, but it seemed too fantastic to be real.” Lydia caught herself babbling and took a breath. “How are they doing, Jennings?”
“Holding their own, no thanks to me.”
Lydia’s brow knit with confusion.
“I’m not very good at this type of thing,” the proud man admitted.
Lydia smiled in relief, glad that nothing serious was wrong. “I hope you’ve come so we can keep you here for a time and get to know these children.”
“As a matter of fact, I have. I seem to find plenty to visit with the boys about, but six-year-old girls have proved to be quite a puzzle to me.”
Lydia couldn’t hold her laughter.
“Jennings!” Palmer’s voice came from behind the couple, and the two men shook hands as soon as Lydia’s husband was near. “Welcome to Tipton. It’s been much too long.”
“I agree with you, Palmer. I hope I’m welcome.”