It took me several minutes to wipe the large grin off my face, and finally gather myself enough to take a deep breath and turn away from my position against the door- I had frozen in place just after closing it, processing and fantasizing over all that had just happened.
When I turned, though, I found that I was not alone. Charlotte and Lottie stood behind me, staring. While Lottie seemed confused, Charlotte had the widest grin across her face- perhaps even wider than my own had been.
Startled by their presence, I spoke, my voice sounding unfamiliar to me- I sounded breathless, my pitch higher than normal. "Oh! Hello, Charlotte. Lottie."
"Hello," Lottie greeted quietly, once more shy with me. Charlotte did not answer, and just kept staring at me with a smirk.
Though she could not have possibly known all that had taken place, I still found my face flushing as I cast my eyes downward and began to walk past them. "What have you two girls been up to?"
"Playing hide-and-go-seek with you," Charlotte said, and when I looked at her in confusion, she sent a pointed glance towards the stairs.
My Father was making his way down the steps, a small child asleep in his arms. He had come to take his job as caretaker until he could find a trusted replacement as Headmaster very seriously, it seemed.
"Ah, there you are, Amelia," Father said, his voice low so as to not disturb the little boy sleeping in his hold. "Have you girls finished up playing?"
Though Mother would have said I was too old for 'playing', Father had no reservations. I was fairly sure that, in his mind, both Elizabeth and I were still little children.
"Yes, Father," I said, sending an appreciative glance at Charlotte for providing me an alibi without my having to ask. I had been planning on coming up with some story about getting caught up in a novel out in the garden and losing track of time- and hoping he would not ask about where my book was or how I had not noticed the rain.
Charlotte returned my look with her own, which made it clear she expected me to share details later as payment. Lovely.
"Very well," Father said, sending Charlotte and I off to Charlotte's Father, whom was sat reading in the large library of the school- apparently, he had stayed to escort us home, as Mother had already left. I felt bad about staying out so long and keeping him waiting, but could not bring myself to regret the time I had spent with my Robin.
"Your Mother is expecting you," Father told me pointedly as I made my way towards the door behind Charlotte and her father. "Go straight home and do not dawdle."
I nodded, hiding a smile. I knew what he meant- Charlotte and I had been in trouble several times before for getting caught up in conversation and forgetting the time. Lottie looked very upset to see Charlotte and I go- it seemed she had not taken to Father quite yet, and ran off when he offered her a hand to get up off the floor from where she sat having a crying fit as we made for the door.
Just as I turned to head out after Charlotte, I felt a slight tug on my skirt. Looking down to see if the bottom of the doorframe had come loose and my dress had been caught, I turned, reaching for my dress to pull it free.
My hand landed on a little arm, instead. And the hand attached to the arm of the tiny boy was in my pocket, searching for coins. His gaze widened when my eyes met his and he began struggling, trying to yank away from me. The smaller girl who had been just beside him to stand watch bolted away, leaving her partner-in-crime behind.
I sighed, waving Charlotte and her Father onward out the door. Then I turned to the boy, who was thrashing about- he could not have been older than five, though, and was easy enough to keep in place as I took both of his wrists in mine to keep him from striking at me as I bent down to meet him eye-to-eye.
"That's enough of that," I told him gently, shaking his wrists slightly to get his attention. He did not heed my words, continuing to kick at me, and I used a firmer tone this time. "Stop that. I am not angry with you, and you are not in trouble. Now unless you want to be, stand still and talk to me."
After considering for a few moments, he finally stilled, looking up at me. Though he was glaring, there was fear in his gaze, and I softened- he reminded me very much of John when we were young. Just desperate enough to steal, just bold enough to fight, and just good enough to feel remorse.
"What is your name?" I asked, keeping hold of his wrists. He hesitated. "Tell me- you shan't be in trouble. My name is Amelia."
He swallowed hard. "Stephen. Shall you cane me?"
"I shall not."
"Whip me?"
"No. I-"
"Will you call for the law?"
I could not help but laugh a bit. "Stephen! Calm down. I promised you no trouble, did I not?"
"Yes, Miss."
"Then there shall be none. Just talk to me for a bit, alright?"
He bit at his lower lip, but finally relaxed. "Alright."
I released him, and he did not turn to run, though he did take a few steps away from me as I began to speak to him. "Why are you trying to steal from me?
"I'm sorry."
Had I been so difficult as a child? "Thank you, Stephen. But what did I ask you?"
"Why I was trying to steal from you."
"Yes," I encouraged, smiling at him to show I was not angry. "You've no need to steal here. You have a bed, three meals a day, blankets, books."
He shrugged slightly. "I do not know how to read books."
As I took him in, I decided that perhaps I had deemed him younger than he was- I had certainly looked younger than I was in my youth, as a result of not eating as much as I should have. He was likely closer to eight or nine. Certainly old enough to read, had he been a student here long. "When did you arrive at this school?"
After a moment of thought, he answered. "During the heat wave, Miss. I came because I was frightened. I thought I would die without shelter."
"About three weeks, then." I determined, remembering the week-long period of scorching weather in the high 90's. While I had heard such weather was common in some places, we were certainly not equipped for it here in England. "That is not very long at all, Stephen. Give yourself the chance to learn, and you shall."
"But I do not know how to read!" Stephen blurted out, likely a bit louder than he intended in his frustration. "It is too hard! I only know how to steal!"
With this, I could sympathize. It had been a very real struggle for me to learn to read, and had it not been for my dear governess- though, admittedly, I had held a strong disdain for her at first, for forcing such lessons on me, as well as punishments if I acted up during them- I may well have never learned.
Again, I reached for the child's hands. "I understand it is hard-"
"You understand nothing!" Stephen raged, yanking away from me again. "You are of Noble birth, and know nothing of my life. You do not know how hard it is!"
At this, I could not be angry. How could I, when it was my job to get to know these children, to guide them through what I had already experienced, and I had failed so miserably that they did not even know of my past? I just smiled at Stephen, a bit sadly, and reached into my pocket.
"Stephen, I think you would be surprised at how much I understand you. At bedtime tonight, ask my Father to tell you the story of my childhood, alright?"
Though seemingly baffled at what such a story may be, the boy nodded, and then extended his hand out uncertainly when I offered him the coin I had just pulled from my pocket.
"You have everything you need now, Stephen," I informed him gently, knowing that perhaps he was still too new to this life, too young in general, to truly understand the opportunities before him. "A bed, food, shelter. You have no need to steal money. So rather than steal for things you already have here, try your hardest in all you do. Work hard, and save the money you earn now- because if you are smart with it, you will be able to create a very bright future for yourself. Alright?"
Though he nodded, I did not fool myself into thinking that this would be some life-altering advice for him. He was at the age where I was certain he would make off with the coin to buy a treat. But maybe one day, a few years from now, he would know how to read and write. He would think back to his time on the streets, as I so often did, and then to his first few weeks here in this school.
And just maybe he would recall this conversation. Just maybe he would look down at the payment he had earned honestly, and choose to make something out of both the money and himself.
But for now, I truly hoped he would enjoy whatever piece of hard candy or sugar plum or candied peel he went out to buy. Perhaps he would even heed my advice in the only way his childish brain could manage at his age, and he would save up until he had three or four coins, and then buy a collection of turkish delight.
And that was enough for me.
As always, Charlotte was perfectly, amazingly, astoundingly discreet. She grinned at me the entire time as she sat beside her Father.
"So how did you like the game of hide-and-go-seek, Amelia?" Charlotte kept asking, winking and wiggling her eyebrows at me. "Where were you hiding for so long, anyway? Do you want to play again soon?"
She ignored the glares I kept shooting her, as well as the pointed glances at her father. I did not think there was truly much threat there, though- the man seemed oblivious to the truth, and blocked out the conversation the same way he did conversations we had in the past about dolls and braiding and needlework.
It was lucky that it was not a woman escorting us. I was sure the hidden meaning behind Charlotte's poor coding would have been exposed posthaste.
The sun was beginning to set as we pulled up to the front of my home. After being helped from the carriage, I thanked Charlotte's father for waiting for me and bringing me home, vaguely wondering if Clara and Cordelia would come to learn that he had stayed behind several extra hours for me to play hide-and-go-seek.
I found that I was not upset by this thought. Somehow, I no longer cared what those snobby, conceited girls thought of me. Let them think I was some childish thing, running off to play with children for hours on end.
I had a secret sweeter than anything they could ever imagine.
Pausing at the front door, I steadied myself, willing the smile to leave my lips. It simply would not do if I walked into the home looking love-struck and dazed when I had supposedly been running about with Charlotte for the entire evening. Though it was absurdly difficult, I managed to wipe the grin off my face as I opened the front door.
The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the Front Parlor was that my dear eldest brother was home- Thomas was standing just beside Michael, his hand on the younger boy's shoulder. I quickly closed the door behind me, eager for an embrace from my recently-married brother who had been away on honeymoon for so long, but stopped short when I actually stepped into the room.
It had not been the happy reunion I had assumed it to be. Father, of course, was at the school, and not home. But the scene before me still made no sense- Michael was biting as his finger worriedly, and Thomas had a comforting arm around Michael that was just a bit too tense to bring much comfort.
Mother was there, too, slumped on the bottom step and weeping as Miss Lancing sat beside her, embracing my Mother in a way I had never seen any servant do. Mother always kept her distance from the staff. Always.
The picture was an incomplete one, though, despite the fact that Thomas was apparently home now, and Miss Lancing was strangely close to Mother.
Because Elizabeth was nowhere to be found. And it was her name that Mother was weeping.