The dog woofed several times and licked Esmeralda’s hand as she knelt down to rub him. She patted his head and brushed her hand down the back of his warm, damp coat.
Damp?
Why was Napoleon wet?
At first it puzzled Esmeralda, and then a prickle of concern shot through her. It could only mean one thing, and Esmeralda didn’t like it. She now knew why Josephine had been so nice about bringing her tea each afternoon. She was trying to keep Esmeralda from coming above stairs and realizing that she was sneaking out the back door to take Napoleon for a walk. Esmeralda rose. A strong desire to tap her foot in frustration gripped her, but she resisted the urge.
“Enough playing,” Esmeralda said, brushing the active Napoleon away from her skirt. “Off with you for now.”
“You’re up early this afternoon,” Josephine said, skipping happily into the small drawing room as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “I was getting ready to put the kettle on to steep you a cup of tea. I wanted to bring it down to you.”
After a quick glance at her half-sister’s wet shoes, Esmeralda stared at the youthful face of the happy twelve-year-old. The two of them looked nothing alike, and their differences had nothing to do with the almost-sixteen-year span in their ages. Esmeralda’s hair was honey blonde and Josephine’s was a gorgeous shade of bright golden-red. On sunny days it fell thick and straight down her back, but on rainy days like today there was a beautiful wave to its long length.
Josephine’s eyes were the most vibrant shade of green Esmeralda had ever seen. Her complexion was fair with a light smattering of pale coppery-colored freckles feathered across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Josephine was slim but sturdy and had all the handsome features of her father’s Irish heritage.
Esmeralda walked farther into the room and said, “I do appreciate that you’ve started doing that for me, but tell me, do we have a leak in our ceiling?”
Josephine kept an innocent expression on her face as she looked all around the room. Esmeralda’s gaze followed hers. The drawing room wasn’t large, but it had double windows in the front and a single one at the back that let in late afternoon sunshine on clear days. They had a few nice pieces of furniture that had been handed down from Josephine’s father’s family. A floral-print settee and an armchair were beginning to show wear but were far from unsightly, and the small tea table was in excellent condition. Two brass sconces and a painting of an Irish hillside dotted with sheep were the only things hanging on the walls.
“I haven’t seen a leak,” Josephine replied as her gaze traveled up to the ceiling, sweeping from side to side in search of a wet spot. “Why? Did you see a puddle on the floor?”
“No, but Napoleon’s hair is wet. Much like it was this morning when we took him for a walk in the rain.”
Her sister stilled. There was no mistaking she knew she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have done. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small O.
“Did you disobey me and go out by yourself again?” she asked even though she knew the answer.
Josephine clamped her lips together tightly and settled them into a wide line of defiance as she folded her arms across her chest.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Esmeralda added when an answer wasn’t forthcoming.
“I’m not going to answer that.”
Napoleon barked and grumbled in his throat as he jumped on Esmeralda’s skirt again, hoping to regain her attention. She gave him a couple more pats on the head then shooed him away again.
“Why not?” she asked her sister.
“You won’t like what I say.”
“That may be,” she answered as her foot began to tap. “However, I insist on having an answer from you.”
“I don’t want you angry with me, Essie.”
Esmeralda’s anger plummeted. Josephine had always known how to go straight to Esmeralda’s heart. She didn’t want this tension between them either, but this was too important for her to ignore. Disciplining her sister should have never been her job, but there was no one else to do it since her sister’s father died. Esmeralda supposed she’d always been a nervous Nellie where her sister was concerned, and it had only gotten worse after Josephine’s father had passed so suddenly.
“If you went out alone again, I have good reason to be upset with you. Napoleon has proven he can wait until I get home to go out, so now tell me, did you take him?”
Refusing to answer, her sister stayed tight-lipped and stern-faced. Stubbornness was another trait she’d inherited from her Irish father.
“Josephine?”
“See, you’re already angry with me and I haven’t even answered you yet,” she accused with her eyes flashing rebelliousness.
“I’m not angry at this point but I will be very soon if you don’t start talking.” Esmeralda felt compelled to defend herself. “I am getting quite annoyed with you for refusing to respond to my question.”
“All right, I went out.” Josephine paused briefly and added dismissively, “But I wasn’t alone.”
Taking her sister’s words as truth, she stiffened when she heard this. “Who was with you? Mrs. Chiddington? Did she come for a visit?”
