‘He will be back, Allan. I know it.’
She held her breath, but he went willingly to bed. When he reached up to her, she lay down on her bed and held his hand.
‘Are your feet warm?’ she asked.
‘They are.’ He yawned. ‘Papa needs one of these.’
‘We have another one. He can use it, when he returns.’
Allan yawned again, closed his eyes and slept. She listened for his even breathing, then quietly went downstairs, wondering how Mrs Moore was faring. She found more tears, and Pru on her housekeeper’s lap. She flashed her friend aWhat-have-we-got-into?look.
She sat beside Mrs Moore and touched Pru’s leg. ‘I hope you’re not worried about Allan,’ she said. ‘He’s warm with that pig in his bed, and already asleep.’
Pru hung her head. ‘I did a bad thing, Miss Fontaine.’
‘It couldn’t have been too bad. The house is still standing,’ Anna replied.
Her reward was a tiny smile, then the return of remorse writ large. ‘Miss Fontaine, I broke a glass. I didn’t mean to, but I broke it.’
Mrs Moore looked at her. Pru looked at her. Anna knew she was in charge, responsible, and resolute because Captain Beattie had left her in charge. She gently cupped her hands around the scullery maid’s face. It startled the child at first.
I doubt anyone has ever touched Pru with kindness, Anna thought. She kept her hands on Pru’s face, relieved to see her shoulders lower as she relaxed.
‘There now, Pru. Let me tell you what I require of you in this house. We work together. When things break, as they sometimes do, we sweep them up and that is the end of it.’ She kissed Pru’s forehead.
Her own doubts were swept away when Pru put her hands over hers. ‘I will always look after Allan Beattie, Miss Fontaine.’
‘And I will look after you, my dear.’
Chapter Seven
Aworse trial than a broken glass came in the morning, from a source Anna had never imagined: her neighbours.
To her delight, the sun shone, something not always seen in January on a Devonshire coast that leaned heavily towards winter fog. While Pru helped Mrs Moore with the breakfast dishes, Anna decided Allan needed the small task of unlocking the front door.
He did it with a flourish that made Anna wish his father were standing there to see how far his son had come in less than a week. Allan grinned at her over his shoulder then darted outside onto the front step, where he took a deep breath.
‘It’s been so long since I was outside.’
He was right, she realised with a shock, remembering what Pru had told them about those two horrid women threatening them if they ventured beyond their own front door.
Those days were over, and it was a nice morning. Anna pulled on her cloak, after calling to Mrs Moore that they were going across the street to pay a call on Mrs Dalton. She grabbed Allan’s coat and handed it to him as he soaked in the sun.
‘Let’s cross the street,’ she said. ‘I want to introduce you to my neighbour, Mrs Dalton.’
‘Does she like little boys, Missy?’
She smiled at the nickname as he took her hand as they crossed the quiet street. She thought of the many mornings she’d joined Mrs Dalton for tea, her usual contribution her brother’s latest letter from the fleet. He had a knack for making sea life interesting for the ladies on shore.
Anna knocked and waited. A movement of the lace curtain near the door caught her attention. She waved to the shadowy figure. To her surprise, she saw a woman glaring at her and turning her back.
She stood there, indecisive, then remembered that her last view of Mrs Dalton had been around Captain Beattie’s arm as he’d hugged her on the front step. Surely she didn’t think…
‘Should I knock, too?’ Allan asked.
‘I think not,’ Anna said. ‘She must be busy. Let’s go home.’
Allan pointed to the other houses. ‘I like to knock on doors. Should we try another one?’
