Theo sighed. “Because I will not have the blood of children on my hands.”
“They’re going to punish you for letting us escape,” Bridget told him.
“I know,” Theo answered as he pulled down a bridle from its hook. “Can you ride?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “But not well.”
Theo led a chestnut mare from her stall and began to saddle her. “This is Lucky, she has a sweet temperament and is easy to ride.” He bent down and lifted Bridget into the saddle first. “Do you have any family? Anyone you could go to?”
“No,” Hester interrupted. “No one, it’s just us now.”
Theo lifted Hester into the saddle, tucking her in front of her sister. Then he picked up his cloak and wrapped it around them. “This is big enough to fit around both of you, it should keep the worst of the cold out.”
Bridget nodded as she wrapped her arms around her sister’s waist, and Theo handed her the reins. Tucking the heavy cloak around Hester, she turned to regard Theo with troubled eyes.
“You do know what they will do to you when they realize you helped us escape?” she repeated her earlier question.
“Yes.” He nodded with calm acceptance.
“Then why?” Bridget frowned. “Why risk your life?”
“I wouldn’t hand a stray dog over to Nathaniel Boothe.” Theo scowled. “If he has taken an interest in you, then it can only come to no good.” He attached a stout sack and water skin to the saddle. “There is food in here. Use it sparingly for I do not know when you will be able to get more. Head south. I will try and mislead them, to cover your tracks.”
“Come with us.” Hester reached for his hand.
“I can’t.” He shook his head, removing a purse from his pocket. “Take this. There is not much coin, I’m afraid, but it is all I have.”
“You don’t have to do this.” Hester frowned.
Glancing at his journal still resting atop the hay bale, he lifted it and tore out a hand full of pages which he held over the flame of the lamp until they caught alight. He watched with grim determination as they burned to cinders in his hand. Dropping the remaining embers to the ground, he stomped them out beneath his boot before they could catch.
“What are you doing?” Hester cried out. She scrambled down from the horse and ran over to him grabbing the journal from his hand and cradling it against her chest protectively.
“Hester,” he said with a frown. “There are things in there that my brother and Nathaniel must never know.”
“But she needs to know,” Hester insisted. “She needs to see them.”
“Who?” he asked in confusion.
“The woman.” She shook her head. “The woman with the golden eyes.”
A shocked gasp escaped Theo’s lips, his eyes widening as he sank to his knees. “How do you about her? Do you know who she is?”
Theo’s heart was pounding in his chest as he studied the child. Her expression solemn as she clutched his journal tightly. In that moment he recognized the signs. Just like his sister, Temperance. These children were special, that’s why Nathaniel had gone after them. That’s why he’d killed their mother.
“She’s waiting for you,” Hester said. “This”—she shook the journal—“is important.”
Releasing a heavy exhale Theo handed her his sketch book, pressing it into her arms along with the journal. “Then take them for me, and keep them safe,” he whispered. “No one else must ever see what is written here.”
Hester nodded solemnly.
Lifting her once again into the saddle, he led the mare to the door, but as he opened it, he froze. The mare behind him shied in surprise, and he found himself staring into the furious eyes of his brother.
“What are you doing, Theo?” he demanded.
“The right thing for once,” Theo replied, his face a stone mask of steely determination. “Step aside, brother.”
“They are accused.” He spit the word as if it were something filthy. “Nathaniel himself will question them.”
