“Well then, perhaps he isn’t one that’s kept in the stables. I will have Murray take it away.”
“Oh, no.” Louisa stopped her. “Why can we not keep it?”
The other servant crinkled her nose. “Keep it? You cannot be serious. You are a servant, Louisa, not a child.”
How she wanted to snap at the obtuse woman for that comment. Of course Louisa wasn’t a child. Just because she wanted a kitten didn’t make her youthful. She continued to pet the animal, the soft fur soothing her temperament. “Adults have had pets before, have they not?”
“Yes, but you have no place to keep it, and Murray is not going to want another varmint in his stables. He cleans after horses all day; he’s not going to take care of a pet for you as well.”
Shrugging, Louisa turned her back on the other lady and slowly strolled along the stone path toward the lawn. Kittenswere such helpless creatures, needing someone to take care of them. They were perfect for children.
Just then a stern voice boomed through the silence coming from over by the house. Mrs. Jacobs marched with the children toward the lawn. Louisa gasped.Marched?Both Adam and Amanda’s faces were drawn into frowns as their stiff bodies marched in time with Mrs. Jacob’s calls.Two-year olds don’t march.
“I shall return momentarily,” Louisa called over her shoulder as she hurried toward the twins. When she neared, they looked at her and slowed their pace. When their eyes rested on the kitten in her arms, they stopped and turned toward Louisa. She smiled. “Would you like to pet him?”
She crouched as they ran up to her. Grins lit up their cherubic faces, and the sun glinted off their golden hair, almost giving it a strawberry tint. Adorable children.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Inwardly, Louisa groaned. How did she forget about Mrs. Jacobs? She met the old nurse’s glare and smiled politely. “I’m letting the twins pet the kitten.”
“How dare you interrupt us? Could you not see we were marching?”
“Indeed, I did see it, but I thought you were playing a game.”
“A game?” Mrs. Jacobs shrieked. “Marching isnota game.”
Louisa shrugged. “Well, it should be if you ask me, since marching isnotfor children. So I thought the twins would enjoy petting a kitten instead.”
“Oh.” The older woman huffed. “You dare to go against my activities for the children?”
Louisa tilted her head. “Actually, that thought did not cross my mind, but now that it has, I must say how appalled I am that you are making these childrenmarch.”
Red blotches colored the woman’s face as she opened and closed her mouth as if trying to catch flies. “I am their nurse, notyou.”
“That you are, but I would think you could find something better for them to do besidesmarch.They are only two years old, for heaven’s sake. They are not in training for His Majesty’s Forces.”
Mrs. Jacobs lifted her chin in a challenge. “This is the age to start shaping them to walk like ladies and gentlemen.”
Louisa snorted a laugh. “Pray, Mrs. Jacobs, how many ladies have you seen marching down the street in Town? For that matter, how many gentlemen? Although I have only been in this house a little over a week, I cannot say I have seen his lordship march at all.”
The twins giggled.
“Oh, this is utter…nonsense.” The nurse threw up her hands as she glanced around the yard. “Where is His Grace? He shall know of this at once.”
Louisa handed the kitten to Adam before standing. “Splendid idea. We shall wait for him to return from his ride with his brother and Lord Hawthorne, then you can explain why you made his children march—for no reason at all, mind you—when they really wanted to play with a kitten.”
Mrs. Jacobs stepped in front of Louisa, with a glare that pierced right through her. “I really do not like you.”
Louisa shrugged. “And I do not approve of the way you treat the twins. They are not…” She glanced at the two, trying to think of what she wanted to say. “They’re not miniature adults.” She threw Mrs. Jacobs a scowl. “They are small children, you imbecile. They should not march all day long and be forced to do things they do not wish to do. They are young and should enjoy life before it gets snatched away.”
An ache grew in Louisa’s heart, and with it came pressure in her head, making it throb. Tears gathered in her eyes. “Children are not slaves, and should not be treated as such.” She stepped closer to the old hag, staring her down. “Know this, Mrs. Jacobs, what you teach these children now will stay with them until they are grown. They need space to play and be free, instead of the toy soldiers you want them to become.”
“Forgive me for intruding, but what is going on?”
Trevor’s deep voice caught her off guard and she spun around. He didn’t appear angry, just curious. She quickly wiped her eyes, but she suspected he already noticed she’d been crying. She curtsied, as did the nurse.
“Well, your lordship,” Mrs. Jacobs started, “Miss Louisa and I were just discussing…”
