Part 7 (1/2)
The first door she tried was locked, as was the next. On the other side of the hall, her luck was no better. She wondered if this was a wing that had been closed off. Odd then that the earl would have been here.
Her eyes widened when she saw a door that was ajar. Opening it wider, she peered in to see what looked like a child's room, for it had a small bed, several chairs, and a bookcase filled with books. No toys were visible anywhere except for one doll on the bed.
”Who are you?”
Serenity flinched at the demanding question, then smiled at a child who was perched in a chair that seemed far too big for her delicate frame. Glancing around the room, she wondered why such a small child had been left alone. ”I am Serenity Adams.” For once, she did not stumble on the name. Mayhap she was becoming accustomed to it.
”Are you the Serenity Adams my uncle Timothy is marrying?”
”Yes.” That question sounded too mature for such a tiny child. She sat on a chair beside the child. ”And who are you?”
”I am Theodora.”
”Timothy is your uncle?”
”Not really, but I call him my uncle. My mother is his cousin, twice removed.”
Serenity fought to hide her bafflement. This little girl looked no bigger than a six-year-old, but she spoke with the confidence of an older child. She used her left hand when she spoke, but her right one rested in her lap, never moving.
”You have a big family,” she said, knowing she must say something to Theodora.
”I guess so.” She looked back out the window.
Serenity followed her gaze to see that Theodora had a perfect view of what must be the house's water garden. A pool glittered icy blue amid the snow. It was surrounded by follies that might be buildings or simply facades to enhance the flowers that must grow there in the spring.
”I have not seen you before,” Serenity said.
Theodora looked at her. ”That is because you have not come here before.”
”This is my first visit to Cheyney Park; you are right.”
”No, I meant here.” She tapped the arm of her chair. ”I don't go anywhere else.”
The child must be jesting. Mayhap she shared Timothy's sense of humor. Not wanting to be caught accepting a falsehood, Serenity asked carefully, ”Are you restricted to this room because you misbehaved?”
”Of course not!” Theodora gave her a glance that could be described only as withering. It certainly made Serenity want to crumple up in a ball. ”How could I misbehave when I have no chance to?”
”Now you have confused me.”
Raising her chin, she brushed her hand against the ribbons on the front of her simple dress. ”No one has told you about me?”
”Not a word.”
”Oh.”
Serenity smiled, but her curiosity gnawed at her. ”Will you tell me about you?”
”There is little to tell. I cannot walk, and this hand,” she said, pointing to her right hand, ”does not work.”
”So you sit here all day?” She clasped her hands together to keep them from quivering with her sudden anger. A child should not be left to molder alone in this empty wing of the house simply because she could not walk.
”I cannot do anything else.”
”But you could go outside. Someone could carry you.” The child was so delicate that Serenity guessed she could carry her easily herself.
”Mama does not want me to chance taking a chill.”
”Is your mama here? I would be glad to speak with her.”
She shook her head. ”Mama prefers to spend winters in Italy.” She lowered her eyes. ”Of course, the ocean voyage would be too exciting for me in my condition, so I cannot go with her.”
”Are you ill?”
Theodora scowled. ”I told you that-”
”I know. Your arm does not work, and your legs don't hold you, but are you ill?”
”Like sick with a fever?”
Serenity nodded.
”No.”
”Then you should be able to go outside and enjoy the snow.”
”Mama is afraid I will take a chill and become sick.”
”How about in the summer. Does your mama come here in the summer?”
”Sometimes.”
Serenity's heart threatened to break, even as rage boiled in her. How dared Theodora's mother turn her back on her child! Knowing she should not judge a woman she had never met, she still could not submerge all her fury.
She must say something that would not upset the child. ”You are lucky that this room gives you a lovely view of the water garden.”
”It is much prettier in the summer, when the flowers are out and the ducks take their ducklings for a walk up the hill.”
”Lots of ducklings?”
Theodora wore the condescending expression only a child could don in the company of an adult who was treating her as if she were a baby. ”They usually have four or five ducklings for each nest.”
”I did not know that.”
”I have watched, and so I know.”
”I am sure you do.” She clenched her hands again, then loosened her grip before Theodora took notice of her anger. This poor child had had little else to do but sit here and watch the ducks.
Serenity remained talking with the little girl until the child's nurse, who looked no older than her abigail, Nan, came in. The nurse either did not know how to answer Serenity's questions or chose not to answer, telling Serenity that she must speak with the earl before calling on Miss Theodora again. The child must be closely monitored so that she was not overwhelmed and did not take ill.
Wanting to tell the nurse that the only threat to Theodora was boredom, Serenity held her tongue. She must not jump to conclusions, especially when she had nothing to base her opinions on, save this general disquiet about the whole of the way the child was being treated.