Page 37 of Aurelia

“Thank you,” Aurelia said.

“You will want to sketch birds and such, I am sure,” Celsa said, not waiting for an answer before charging toward the shore. “There are a great many that nest on the other side of the lighthouse where there is a marshy area. Hurry up and I will take you there,” she called over her shoulder.

Aurelia followed at a much slower pace.

They walked along the shoreline which was not an easy task given how rocky it was, and Aurelia was soon perspiring profusely.

“It’s just over here,” Celsa called from a slight rise that was tufted with seagrass.

Aurelia was breathing hard when she came up beside the girl. “Oh, it’s delightful.” The marsh, like everything else on the island, was in miniature. There were mergansers and several varieties of ducks lazily paddling about.

“You can have a half hour or so before we need to go back,” Lady Celsa said.

“Are you sure? What will you do while I’m sketching?”

“I will go see Old Walter.”

“Should I come along and introduce myself?”

“You needn’t bother. I doubt he wants to meet you.”

Aurelia snorted at the characteristically rude comment and watched for a moment as Celsa began clambering up the slope, as nimble as a monkey, toward the lighthouse.

She found a large piece of driftwood that had obviously been dragged beside the slough so that somebody—Walter-of-the-no-surname perhaps—could enjoy the birdlife.

As usually happened when Aurelia drew, time passed without her realizing it. Only after she’d filled several pages did she realize that she must have been sketching for quite some time. She set aside her sketchpad and stood, stretching her muscles before checking her watch. It was nine-thirty! She had been sitting on the log for more than an hour. Celsa needed to be back for her lessons and now she would be late—thanks to Aurelia.

Aurelia hastily packed up her things and hurried back to the boat.

Before she’d even made it to the dock, she saw there was only one boat, and it wasn’t Celsa’s.

She shaded her eyes with one hand and looked toward the cove where they’d left the horses. From this angle it was difficult to say, but it looked like the horses were no longer loitering on the beach.

Had the girl just left her there? Or had she rowed around the island and put up somewhere else? Aurelia took a deep breath and considered her options. Other than swimming back, she had no choice but to find Celsa, who might still be at the lighthouse—perhaps Old Walter had taken her boat for some inexplicable reason?

Aurelia sighed, slung her satchel crosswise over her body, and scrambled up the boulders and scree. By the time she reached the top she was sweating in earnest and feeling more than a little out of charity with Lady Celsa, mentally composing the raking she’d deliver when she saw the monster.

“Hello!”

Her head whipped around and she saw an old man—no, an ancient man—walking slowly toward her, his back so bent he was almost doubled over.

She strode toward him. “Hello. I am Miss Burton. I came over with Lady Celsa.”

The old man chuckled. “Aye, I know who ye be. Lookin’ for the wee lass, eh?”

“Yes, I am.”

“She be gone this past hour.” He clucked his tongue. “Playin’ ‘er tricks she is.”

“You mean she rowed back to Crewe?”

“Aye, aye. Did it to the last governess—a pretty thing like you. But I was off at me daughter’s house. Poor lass were here most o’ the night ‘til master rowed over for ‘er.”

Honestly, what a little witch! Aurelia was beginning to understand Lord Crewe’s frustration with his daughter.

The old man chuckled at whatever he saw on her face and patted her shoulder with a gnarled hand. “Ye needn’t worry. I’ll row ye back over.”

“I’m terribly sorry to put you out.”