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When they reached the children’s room, he took Jacob inside, where Melina and the nursemaid sat with the little girl.
Melina was sewing a dress so small it could only fit Willa’s doll while the child played with Jacob’s soldiers.
Melina raised her eyes—the eyes he’d miss—and he saw her own sadness pool in them. She put down the dress and rushed from the room.
The nursemaid watched Jacob and frowned. ‘Have you been rolling in a hayfield? I think your hair is turning into straw.’ She stood, reaching out for him. ‘I am scrubbing that dirt from your knees. I expect the horse came back a lot cleaner than you.’
‘Papa and I rode a long way,’ he told the nursemaid as she turned to get the pitcher. ‘Papa even let me get off Nero by myself and I didn’t get hurt.’
‘But you did manage to get dirty.’ The older woman sighed.
‘I stumbled when I landed.’
Warrington heard them talking and he left the room.
He moved to the room with the harpoon, planning to write instructions on how he wanted his will changed. Jacob would be cared for because of the entailed properties, but the girl could easily be forgotten about. He didn’t want that to happen.
Hearing a rustling noise, he looked up. Willa had followed him, hair tousled, and dressed in a blue that mirrored her eyes. Drool glistened on her chin and she had one of her half-boots in her hand. She should not be toddling about on her own with the stairway so close.
Half rising, he planned to summon a servant, but the little girl sat, trying to put her boot on. It wouldn’t hurt to watch her for a moment.
As he wrote, he heard her chatter again and looked up long enough to see her struggling to climb into the overstuffed chair. In moments, something rustled at his feet and he knew she’d given up on the chair and was exploring under his desk. A sharp, clamping pain hit his leg.
He jumped back. Standing, he pushed down his stocking and saw perfect indentations of teeth on his leg.
‘Willa.’ He raised his voice, then reached underneath the desk and snatched her out. ‘I’ve horse hair on me, I’m sure. And last I heard, it tastes the same as dog fur. You shouldn’t like it.’
Her bottom lip trembled and a sniffle looked to turn into a crying bout.
‘Pardon,’ he muttered, pulling her to his chest, and patting her back. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you.’
Her eyes were wide and she stared at him as if she watched an ogre. She’d not yet made up her mind about tears. He jiggled her as he paced the floor, the same as he’d done with Jacob. ‘You nearly drew blood. You must not like me and I understand.’
Her lip stopped wavering and she nestled against him. ‘I don’t mind that you don’t like me. I wouldn’t if I were you.’ Bending forward, he leaned to put her back on the floor, but she clung to him, her fist tight on his waistcoat.
‘No,’ she said.
Willa had had no choice in the matter of her parents. Maybe neither of them should suffer any more for Cassandra’s sins.
‘Poppet, I wish you a pleasant journey and the best of life.’
‘Horse,’ she said.
‘Not today.’
‘Horse.’
‘No.’
‘Horse.’ She looked at him, eyes hopeful.
‘Some day, when you are older, I’ll see that you have a horse of your very own.’ He held her back from himself and put her on to the floor.
The wail shocked him. He didn’t think he’d ever heard her cry.
He scooped her up, his arm tucked under her bottom, and her face was near his. He patted her back and took a few steps, hoping to silence the wails. Her tears dwindled quickly.
‘Willa, you’re going to get something special. A mama and a papa both—all in one day. Very soon. I have already sent the letter.’
She reached for his neck.
‘No.’ He paused, moving his head aside. She grabbed the cravat at his neck to hold herself firm. She tugged his neckcloth and the softness of fine hair tickled his chin. She smelled like Jacob had when he’d held him—a bit like soap and porridge and life.
She’d be all right. He knew she’d do well. The Sinclairs would be best for her.
‘You’ll like your new family. They’re pleasant people,’ he said to her. ‘You’ll have a new brother, and a new place to live, and a new papa and mama both.’
‘Papa?’ He heard the wavering voice at the door and turned. Jacob stood there, his eyes unsure. ‘We’re getting a new papa and mama?’
