Daniel winced. They both knew what was coming next. Joseph didn’t change tasks easily. He had to be warned several times what was coming, and then he usually threw a fit when forced to leave one activity for another.
“Where’s Nanny?” he asked. Nessie was a small-boned woman with delicate features. And though Joseph was only eight, he could kick like a mule. Nanny had the sturdier frame and the thicker muscles to deal with a violent child.
“She has Stefan at the manor to help with the horses.”
Stefan was horse-mad for sure.
“Joseph had a very bad day yesterday, and I thought to give them a break.”
“Very good of you.” This time he took the harder tone with the boy. “Joseph. Put down the blocks. Your mother called you.”
Nothing.
Nessie sighed. “That’s it,” she said. “He gets three warnings, then we must intervene.” And so she did. “Come along, Joseph. It’s time to eat.”
“Let me do it,” Daniel said as he crossed to the boy, but Nessie held out her hand.
“No. It’s best if I do.” She leaned down and picked up her child. “Come along, Joseph.”
The explosion was immediate and more violent that Daniel remembered. The child arched his back and screamed as if he’d been stabbed. The shriek was piercing, and Daniel jolted in shock. Not so Nessie, who must be used to it. She grabbed hold of the boy around the waist. Easy to do since the child had gone as rigid as a board. She lifted him up with a strength belied by her small size, and she held him firmly for all that he sounded like he was being murdered.
“You’re all right, Joseph,” she kept saying. She grunted when he kicked her. “You’re all right.”
Daniel reached out, trying to help, but Nessie shook her head and twisted away from him. “It’s best—” She coughed as another kick connected to her ribs. “If only one person. Touches him.”
What could he do but stand back with his hands outstretched just in case? But Nessie appeared to be well able to handle her child. She flashed him a wan smile as she held her son despite his violent fit and then she headed toward the door. Belatedly realizing her destination, Daniel rushed to open the door for her. She waited with the still-wailing child while he stepped back to allow her room to move. And then she left, all the while talking in a near monotone to her son.
“You’re all right, Joseph. We’re going to eat now.”
The screaming continued for a good five minutes while Daniel stood in the parlor and listened with growing dismay. They had all hoped for more from Joseph. It was impossible not to see that he didn’t crawl or walk at the same time as normal boys. He did eventually learn all those things, but at eight years old, he still walked with a stiff-legged motion that did not appear natural. Most damning of all was that the child didn’t talk. At best, he spoke vowels interspersed with grunts. It broke Daniel’s heart, and he knew it had pained his brother to no end, but it was Nessie who took it the hardest. Her son was not right, as they said, and what was she to do about it, especially having just lost her husband?
If there was anything to do, Daniel would happily do it. If money, medicine, or special tutoring would cure his nephew, he would certainly find it. Indeed, promises of a cure had sparked several of his travels, but none of them had worked.
So Joseph grew as well as he could, and everyone else did what they could. Unfortunately, time continued for the rest of the world. His older brother would soon be heading to Eton. That would not be an option for Joseph when it was his turn. Which left it to the children’s male guardian—himself—to determine what would be done for the boy. Whatcouldbe done.
But in this he felt as helpless as he did with Anne Mellin. He couldn’t force the woman to throw out her husband no matter how much pain the man caused. He couldn’t force Joseph to grow as a boy ought. And he couldn’t force Miss Li-Na to express her God-given talent to paint.
Damnation! He was the son of an earl, a wealthy man accepted into the highest societies in the world. But here in his home, he felt as powerless as a newborn kitten. And that made him angry enough to go shove heavy rocks back into place along Bob Mellin’s fence.
Chapter Eight
Li-Na worked hard.It was very different work than simply entering transactions into a ledger. That was the work she did at the Lyon’s Den. Here, she had to organize and double-check what another had recorded. It was a complicated, all-consuming task, and she enjoyed the challenge of it. She also loved that she did it in near silence except for the reassuring clack of her abacus. At first it had been disconcerting, but within an hour, she came to love the mournful sound of the wind as her only companion.
Quiet peace and absorbing work. What more could a woman want?
“It’s after one o’clock. Yer not supposed to be working.”
Li-Na had heard Mrs. Hocking arrive a while ago. The woman had cleaned Lord Daniel’s bedroom with a gruff efficiency that ended nearly as soon as it had begun. Then she’d left without so much as peeking in at Li-Na.
Until now.
Mrs. Hocking stood in the doorway to the work area. Her hands were planted on her hips and her chin was thrust forward. “The master said that you wasn’t to work after noon, an’ here it is after one.”
Was it? She had no concept of time in this place.
“He told me to make sure as you weren’t working, though why a body would want to toil when she doesn’t have to is beyond me.”
“It is absorbing work,” Li-Na said.
