Mr Pethick stepped to the window, stemmed his hands at the waist and shook his head. “He’s right across the street.”
Arabella couldn’t make him out at first. There was a rugged worker in a sooty shirt with rolled up sleeves to reveal muscular upper arms, hauling a heavy sack of flour onto his shoulders and walking with slow, measured steps into the side entrance of the bakery.
“Look, there’s Papa.” Katy stood next to her and waved at him.
That was Mr Merivale? A jolt of surprise went through her.
He looked like an ordinary manual labourer, the kind she’d never brush sleeves with.
“Where are the other two?” Being thus preoccupied with their father, she’d forgotten about Joy and Robin. She looked up and down the street and a rush of panic filled her when she did not immediately see them. Wasn’t she supposed to supervise them every single second? How could that have slipped her mind so soon?
Hadn’t she told the children to wait in front of the shop? She stepped out into the street, when Katy said, “They are over there,” and pointed to the other end of the street. “They are talking to a man in the coach…”
A black, elegant carriage with a pair of white stallions stood at the end of the high road. A white-haired man talked to the children through the window. Something about this didn’t seem quite right. Robin seemed frozen and Joy hid behind his back. Arabella rushed towards the carriage. The carriage door opened, and she saw a white, spindly hand beckon. She saw Robin hesitate —
“Robin!” Her shrill voice cut through the air. Robin’s head jerked towards her, hesitated, then looked back at the old man. She stumbled over the cobblestone and nearly fell on her knees.
A roar came from behind her, followed by the sound of running footsteps, and a figure pushed past her.
“Don’t you dare touch my children,” Mr Merivale bellowed. He’d dropped the flour bags in the middle of the street and raced towards the carriage. “Robin, Joy. To me. Now!”
Robin stepped back, took Joy by the hand and turned towards his father.
Arabella reached the carriage, breathless, as the door closed. Merivale, his face red with rage, roared after the carriage. “Stay away from my children!”
As the carriage passed Arabella, she saw an old man lean back into its cushioned seats, with a sarcastic smirk on his face.
Arabella stopped and stared at the carriage as it pulled out of the town, disappearing around the curve.
Then she turned to Merivale, who hugged his children tightly. Katy came running and caught up with her.
“That was close.” She gasped for breath.
“What happened just now?” Arabella asked her, but Katy bit her lip.
“Miss Weston.” Arabella stepped back in surprise when she saw Mr Merivale’s face contorted with rage. “You were supposed to supervise my children.”
“I — well. Yes, of course, but we had to go buy some supplies —”
“For the second time you have left my children unsupervised, and it near ended in disaster. You are dismissed.”
Again?
“I—” Arabella groped for words, then threw up her hands. “But I don’t understand what happened!”
“Let us get one thing clear. My children are never, ever, under any circumstance, to talk to strangers. Especially not to sinister-looking ones who try to tempt them into their carriage. And you two — are you out of your minds?” Robin flinched. Joy’s lips quivered, then she burst into tears. “How often do I have to tell you not to trust strangers and to get into their carriages!”
“He’s not exactly a stranger,” Katy muttered.
“Because he’s tried this before, hasn’t he?” Philip’s voice shook.
Katy pressed her lips to a white line.
“But we didn’t get into his carriage,” Robin defended himself.
“No, but you were about to. What did he promise you this time? Sweets? Toys?”
“Kitten.” Joy sniffled.
