Part 13 (2/2)
”Sara, Miss Ambrose is going to watch after you for a bit. Do be good for her,” Lady Sudley said. And then to Vivian: ”You don't mind, do you? There is so much for me to overseea” She trailed off, looking at Vivian expectantly.
”No, not at all,” Vivian agreed.
”Splendid,” Lady Sudley said, and with that the woman glided off.
Sara looked up at her, then grabbed the jam tart and took a bite.
”Is it good?” Vivian asked. If it had been anyone's child but Richard's, she would have been at ease, for it would not have mattered if they did or did not like each other. But with this child it did matter, and in consequence she was tense.
Sara nodded.
”Then maybe I'll have one.” She picked up one of the small plates and put a tart on it. It looked small and alone on the plate. She put another beside it.
Sara watched her with interest.
”What about those things with the sugar on them, do they look good to you?”
Sara chewed her tart and nodded again.
”I think so, too.” She added one to her plate. ”The bits with the sausage?”
Sara made a face.
”No, no good, I agree. Who wants sausage when they can havea lemon!”
”I like marchpane,” Sara said.
”So do I! Oh, marchpane is an excellent choice. Will you choose a piece for me?”
Sara complied. ”The little cakes are pretty.”
”So they are,” Vivian said. ”Which do you think is prettiest?”
They went down the length of two tables, Vivian grabbing a second plate to hold all the treats that Sara chose. The overseeing women gave her questioning looks that she tried to ignore.
”Are you going to eat all that?” Sara asked her in amazement when both small plates were piled high.
”Yes, I believe I will.”
”Papa won't let me eat so many.”
”I'm a big girl, and I can eat as many as I wish, but maybe I need some help. Would you like to help me?”
Sara nodded and followed her over to some empty chairs. There the girl soon began directing Vivian in which to eat when, and nibbled two or three treats herself.
The plates were nearly empty, and she and the little girl, she thought, were on fine and comfortable terms when Richard found them.
”Papa! Miss A'brose ate this many!” Sara said, holding her two hands out, the fingers spread. ”She ate more than Stinky!”
”Stinky?” Vivian asked.
”Our old greedy dog at my house in Wilts.h.i.+re,” Richard explained.
”Stinky ate my supper, and he ate Willie's pudding, and he runs around the floor going snort snort snort,” Sara said, imitating the grunting dog. ”He'll eat anything, even green meata””
”I think Miss Ambrose understands,” Richard interrupted, biting his lip.
”Cook yells at Stinky. He goes to the kitchen and steals things. He's a very bad dog. He eats horse poo.”
”Oh. Ah. I see,” Vivian said.
”Then he licks my face,” Sara said. ”Ee out, but couldn't bring herself to do so just yet. Instead she watched the children as Richard ate the tart. ”Sara seems a very bright child,” she said into the brief silence.
”She is, and cheerful. She has enough willful mischief in her that I will have a head of white hair before she is grown and wed.”
”And William?”
”He is quieter, more subdued. He'll spend his time reading dreary philosophy, I imagine, and have to be pushed to court a girl.”
”He's a handsome little boy. I think he will set hearts aflutter, if he is brooding and introspective as a man. The young ladies will be unable to resist.”
”Poor little fellow.”
”You don't think he would enjoy the attention?” she asked.
”Perhaps. He might surprise me.” Richard was quiet for a long moment, his gaze on the playing children. ”There are times my heart almost breaks, thinking of them growing up, and suffering the pains the world has to offer. Their hurts now are so small, and so easily soothed compared to what they will endure when they are older.”
”They will have you to help them,” she said, lightly touching his arm and drawing his attention. ”And while their hurts may grow greater, so will their strength.”
He laid his hand over hers, on his forearm. ”You had to quickly grow strong, didn't you? When your parents were killed.”
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