“Chrissy—I mean, Lady Christiana Deveraux, daughter of the sixth Earl of Nevin,” she amended, drawing herself up straight and proud.
Leona repressed a smile at the child’s unconscious formality. That formality also lent credence to the child’s words. Leona was sure that no child, unless she were of the aristocracy, wouldautomatically assume such an attitude. “I’m delighted to meet you, Lady Christiana, even if it is under somewhat unusual circumstances.”
“Please, call me Chrissy.” The child blushed and looked down, nervously twisting her fingers together.“Theyalways called me Lady Christiana,” she explained with unconcealed dislike.
“I see.” Leona paused, searching for ways to discern the truth. “The Norths say you’re one of their relatives . . .” she began slowly.
“That’s a lie!” The heated outburst surprised them both. The child bit her lower lip, her chin quivering as she stared intently at Leona. “I’m not. Really, I’m not. I’m telling the truth. Please believe me. Please help me!”
Leona compressed her lips and sat silently a moment, searching the child’s anxious face for the truth. Finally, she reached out to lay her hand on the child’s arm. “How can I help?”
“Get me out of here! Please! They . . . they kidnapped me while I was on my way to visit Nanny Hazlett,” she explained, her words coming out in a rush. “They hit Walter on the head. There was so much blood! And then they threw a blanket over my head and carried me away, leaving Walter there to die!”
“Doucement,child.Doucement,” Leona soothed, patting her arm.
Chrissy sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. When she looked up at Leona again, there was a renewed expression of mulishness on her face.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I’m merely trying to understand. Now, where and when did they capture you?”
“I was driving my little pony cart on my way to visit Nanny Hazlitt. She used to be my nurse. She lives in a little cottage by herself, and she shouldn’t. She’s blind now, you see. She was my daddy’s nurse, too. And my Uncle Nigel’s and Aunt Lucy’s.” Herforehead furrowed, and she bit the tip of a finger as she thought. “I don’t know how long ago. It seems like years! Sometimes they give me this awful-tasting stuff that makes me sleep and sleep!” Laudanum, most likely, Leona thought. And lamentably, that is standard practice for treating the insane. Instinctively, though, she believed the child. Rationally she was forced to gather further evidence. “Where is your home?”
“Castle Marin.”
Leona shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ve not heard of it.”
“It’s in Devon, not far from Axminster.”
“Is that where your parents are?”
Her face fell. “No,” she answered on a thread of sound. “They’re in Switzerland. Papa’s sick. The doctors said Switzerland would make him better. But Grandmamma, Uncle Nigel, and Aunt Lucy are at Castle Marin. They’ve been taking care of me until Mama and Papa can come home. If they ever can,” she finished softly. She looked away, swallowing thickly.
Something was terribly wrong here—as if kidnapping weren’t enough! “Do you know what it is the kidnappers want?”
“Money, I guess, but they won’t take it from Uncle Nigel. They want it directly from Papa! They don’t care that it would kill Papa to come back to England. I don’t understand,” the child wailed softly, then crumbled forward, weeping, her face in her hands.
Leona sighed and stroked her head. “I don’t either, my dear. But it seems to me that if we’re to save your father, we’ve got to get you out of here.”
Chrissy gulped and sniffed as she straightened. “I know, and I’ve tried to escape several times.”
“You have?”
“Uh-huh. First, I took a fireplace iron and tried to use it to bash the old lady’s head in, but it was too heavy and I missed. So they gave me that stuff to make me sleep and took all thefireplace stuff out of here. Then I dragged the chess table over by the door and stood on it with the wash basin in my hands. I thought I could drop it on her head. But the table fell over while I was standing on it.”
“So they took the table away, along with any other items you might use as weapons,” Leona said.
The child nodded.
That explained the room’s bareness. “I gather you also tried to use the highboy and the bed linens? How were you going to use those?” she asked with a hint of admiration and humor in her voice.
“I wiggled behind the highboy and tried to push it over onto Joanna when she brought me food. That didn’t work either. It was so heavy, and I couldn’t do it quickly. She heard me.”
Leona repressed a smile. “Ah, yes, that would be a hard piece to maneuver. And let me guess, you tried to tie the sheets together to form a rope to lower yourself to the ground.” Chrissy nodded. “You are quite a resourceful young lady. Your parents would be proud of you.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not resourceful at all. I’ve botched up everything.” Her little chin quivered again, and her eyes leaked tears out the corners. Defiantly she swiped them away.
Sensing pity could destroy the last vestiges of the child’s strength, Leona kept her voice calm and matter of fact. “Well, sometimes we all have to know when we need help. As much as we like to do everything ourselves, sometimes it isn’t possible. I think this is one of those times.”
“Then you’ll help me?”
