All of her siblings, who clearly had been watching from theupstairs windows, tumbled out of the house and fell upon her with hugs and kisses.
“I fixed it” was the first thing she said to Hogarth. “I fixed all of it. Everything is fine now.”
His expression went stunned, as though he’d taken a blow to the head.
The color drained from his face.
“Get him, girls! I think he’s going down!” she said.
Felicity got one arm and Fiona got the other and Ginny got her arm around his back. They lowered him to a sitting position on the edge of the fountain.
William paused in his flower munching to sniff him.
“Ginny, what did you fix?” Felicity asked brightly.
Bless Hogarth for not saying a word. He must have been so worried, and it must have been a struggle not to confide in them.
“Oh, just some things to do with the estate.”
She didn’t want her sisters to know. They never, ever needed to know.
“He’s been forgetting to eat,” Fiona fussed over her brother. Who did indeed look thinner.
Ginny could imagine why. “Will you two run into the house and bring Hogarth and me something to drink and perhaps a little bite to eat? I just want to sit here for a minute. It’s a beautiful day.”
Felicity seized up Ginny’s valise and both girls skipped off.
They really were sweet, lovely girls, who deserved every happiness, and bloody Marchand was right. She was whiskey, and they were chamomile tea.
Hogarth bent double and breathed. She patted his back.
“Oh, Ginny. Bloody hell. Thank you. Dear God. I’m luckier than I deserve to be,” he said.
“Too right you are,” she agreed.
“So what happened?”
“The Earl of Sydenham tore up your vowels.” She decided that was as much information as she needed to share. “And Marchand shared with me your plan to teach the children from the workhouse. I think that’s a very fine idea, Hogarth, and I’m so proud of you.”
But Hogarth was frowning at her. He was unfortunately every bit as smart as she’d told Marchand he was. He was clearly puzzling over something.
“Did Marchand have anything to do with Sydenham’s decision?” He was eyeing her with peculiar intensity.
She hesitated. “I think he had everything to do with it.”
And just like that, her eyes filled with tears.
“Ginny!” he said. Alarmed.
She swiped at her eyes. “I’m just a bit tired from the journey.”
He frowned at her so darkly and so skeptically that she nearly laughed.
“Are you unwell?” He was so worried, and it was so sweet.
“No. I’m... I’m a little sad, though.”
He looked as though he intended to say something, then thought better of it. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked gently.
