Mrs. Menford had been wise enough to retreat after Mrs. Larson had explained the full extent of her duties and the consequences of disobedience. Though Amelia wasn’t entirely eager to keep the disagreeable woman on her staff, it did seem that she had relented.
Amelia smiled and offered Christine her support while they went down the hallway. Although the girl still seemed a little dizzy, she linked her arm in Amelia’s.
They walked up to the third floor, and at the top of the stairs, she opened the small doorway leading to the attic. “Go inside and see.”
Christine entered, while Amelia stood back to watch. The interior of the space was lit by the sunlight filtering through the windows. A small desk rested right beneath the window, and there was a stack of fresh paper along with different quills and inkwells.
The moment she saw the desk, Christine went still. She spoke not a word, but stood before the desk, staring at it. Amelia waited for her to say something, but her stepdaughter remained quiet.
“Is it…not what you wanted?” she ventured.
Christine crossed her arms, clenching her shoulders as she turned to face Amelia. “My father didn’t give me this gift.Youdid.”
Something in the girl’s voice warned Amelia not to argue. And so she simply nodded once. “I thought you might like a place of your own where you can write your stories. We could even build a seat beneath the window and add cushions where you can curl up and read.”
The girl let out a breath and touched one of the pieces of paper. “I never told him I like to write. Papa doesn’t know.”
“Was it meant to be a secret?”
Christine shook her head. “But he never asks me what I like to do. He’s kind enough, but for so long, he never seemed to notice me.”
Amelia saw the vulnerability the girl was trying to mask. “He abandoned you for too long.”
Christine shrugged. “I don’t suppose I was very interesting when I was little.”
“It’s hard to be interesting when your father is always gone.” Amelia leaned back against the desk. “I think we should pay him a visit at Thornwyck, don’t you?”
“He’ll be furious with us.”
“Oh, undoubtedly. But don’t you think it’s time that we became interesting to him?” She picked up a piece of paper. “Why don’t you write a story about an earl who abandoned his only daughter, and she was rescued from her tower by a handsome prince?”
A smirk stole over Christine’s face. “No prince would come after me.”
“Or perhaps the daughter climbed out of the tower and ran off with the prince before her father returned?”
Her stepdaughter’s face softened at the story idea. “Perhaps.” She went over to the attic window and opened it, letting in the fresh air. “You’re not that bad, you know. As a stepmother.”
“I might have lured you here to lock you in,” Amelia suggested. “I might be worse than you expected.”
The girl climbed up on the desk, not responding to her teasing remark. She shielded her eyes against the sun and said, “There’s a widow’s walk on top of the house. Did you know?”
Amelia’s stomach lurched when she saw where Christine was pointing. “I see it.”
“I’m going to walk outside and look over the grounds. Do you want to come?”
The idea of standing on the rooftop of the house was not a welcome one. “No, and I don’t want you to walk out there, either. You could fall and be killed.”
“There’s a railing up here,” Christine said. “It’s perfectly safe.” She took one step onto the roof, and Amelia scrambled forward.
“Please come back. Truly, your father wouldn’t want you out there. And neither do I.”
“It’s a lovely view.” Christine rested her hands upon the railing, staring out over the landscape. “You should come and join me.”
The thought of setting a single foot upon the rooftop terrified Amelia. “I can’t.” Her heart was pounding so fast, she could only bring herself to call out, “Christine, you must come back.”
The girl let out a sigh and said, “All right.” She took a few steps back toward the window, then suddenly swayed without warning. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed the edge of the chimney to keep from falling.
A scream caught in Amelia’s throat, but she clamped her mouth shut to keep from startling the girl more. “Hold on, Christine. I’m coming.” She ignored the shudder of panic rising in her stomach. Her stepdaughter was on her hands and knees, terror in her eyes.
