Alethea turned to see Clara twisting to inspect a large green grass stain smeared across the back of her skirt. Clara's eyes went wide, half amused, half worried.
"The governess will scold me for certain," she lamented.
Eleanor rose and came over.
"It's not so bad. A soak will take it out." But she bit her lip. "We should get you changed before anyone sees, though. It does look quite messy."
Alethea's momentary ease vanished, replaced by a spike of alarm. Clara's white dress had a vivid green stain.
The last thing she wished for was for Clara to get into trouble for staining her nice dress.
Alethea shot to her feet, trying to keep a calm demeanor despite her racing mind.
"Yes, let us return to the house straightaway," she said. She reached down and helped pull Clara up from the grass, brushing bits of green lawn from the girl's dress as best she could. "No one needs to know about this little stain. We'll clean you up before your governess even notices, all right?"
Clara giggled, oblivious to Alethea's true anxiety. "All right," she agreed, brightening at the prospect of avoiding a scolding.
Eleanor gave Alethea a searching look.
"Truly, it's not such a terrible spot. Our brother won't…"
"Better safe than sorry," Alethea murmured. She couldn't bear the idea of Oliver hearing that under her care Clara had come to any mischief. And worse, she did not wish for Clara to get punished over it. If taking extra measures was what avoided it, then that shall be what must be done.
They made their way back toward the manor through a side door that led into a rear hallway. Luckily, most of the household seemed occupied elsewhere at this hour. The girls tiptoed behind her. Upon reaching the back stairs, Alethea guided the sisters up toward their chambers. A housemaid encountered them on the landing, her eyes widening at Clara's grass-stained attire.
Before the maid could curtsy or comment, Alethea stepped forward.
"Please fetch a basin of cool water and some soap to Lady Clara's room at once. And say nothing of this to anyone, if you please."
The maid blinked, then nodded, catching on. "
Yes, Your Grace, of course." She hurried off on her errand.
In Clara's bedroom, Alethea helped the girl out of her soiled frock. And soon after, the maid arrived with water and soap, and together they dabbed at the stain.
"It's lifting," Alethea said with great relief, the color returning to her face.
"I'll have this sent to the laundry with a note to be extra careful," the maid told Alethea quietly.
"Thank you," Alethea breathed. It seemed the mini crisis was averted.
Clara flung her arms around Alethea in a gesture that was most unexpected.
"Thank you, sister," she exclaimed.
Startled by the embrace, Alethea froze for a second before patting the girl's back gently. Being called ‘sister' warmed her heart unexpectedly.
"It was nothing," she said softly. "Perhaps next time we play, we shall lay a blanket down if we plan to sit on the grass, hmm?"
Clara pulled back and nodded earnestly.
"Truly, no harm done. You needn't worry so much," Eleanor added.
Alethea managed a shaky smile. How could she explain it? The girls had grown up in a loving, gentle home; she could tell by their easy confidence.They have not walked on eggshells all their lives,she thought.
"I'm just glad we avoided any upset," Alethea said simply. "Now, I shall leave you two to prepare for dinner. Thank you for the lovely afternoon."
Eleanor walked Alethea to the door.
