AnchorandStorm by Kate Poole Page A

disease would not worsen again for a long time.
     
    “You must stop asking me that, Raymond,” Edgar said with finality. “If I didn’t feel up to it, I would not have suggested it.” He rose and offered his right arm to Emily, grasping his cane in his left hand.
     
    They made their way slowly out onto the terrace. Emily was somewhat surprised that Raymond and Caroline stayed behind them. She wondered why, for she was sure it was not out of respect for rank.
     
    When they reached the top of the steps down into the garden, Edgar paused and looked around, taking in a deep breath. It wrenched at her heart to see him take such joy in each day, as if he feared that one might be his last. She held his arm more firmly and said, “Come, I’ll help you down.”
     
    But before they could start, Edgar pointed to the small vegetable patch Emily had planted near the house. “Oh no, Emily, look. The rabbits are at your turnips again.”
     
    “Oooo, those sneaky wee beasties! Wait here for me while I chase them off.”
     
    Raymond stepped forward. “That’s all right, Lady Callander, I can help Uncle on the steps.”
     
    Emily hesitated, but Edgar laughed and gave her a gentle push. “Go on, or you’ll have no ‘neeps’, as you call them, left to eat.”
     
    Emily ran to the turnip patch, flapping her cape. “Away, away wi’ ye, ye nasty varmints, or we’ll serve you up wi’ the neeps.” She watched the rabbits scatter in all directions. “Well, I’ve run them off for a little while at least.”
     
    She turned back toward the terrace—just in time to see Edgar fall headfirst down the steps.

 
    Chapter Seven
     
     
     
    “I’ll be fourteen next month, Angus.”
     
    “Will ye now?” He glanced down at the boy sitting next to him polishing a saddle. He reached over and tousled Willie’s dark brown curls. “Ye’re growin’ up too fast, lad.”
     
    “I’ve been thinkin’…”
     
    When the boy hesitated, Angus asked, “Aye? And what have ye been thinkin’?”
     
    “Well…Lord Callander takes good care of me and my folks, but….”
     
    “But?”
     
    “But I’ve been thinkin’ I’d like to see some of the world.”
     
    Angus felt a chill of fear over what the boy would say next.
     
    When Willie spoke, his words came out in a rush. “I’m goin’ to join the regiment.”
     
    “No,” Angus said firmly, “you are not.”
     
    “Why not?”
     
    “Ye’re yer mother’s only son. Ye’ll break her heart if you leave.”
     
    “I won’t be gone forever. I’ll come home when my stint is up.”
     
    “Sure of that, are ye? Listen to me, lad.” He stood up, towering over the boy and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Ye’ll see more than the world. Ye’ll see pain and blood and death. And ye’ll learn there are worse things than death. Ye might even—”
     
    The scream came from the garden of the house and Angus knew instantly it was Em’s. He took off running, with Willie following close behind. They charged through the side gate and up the main pathway.
     
    Angus could not believe the scene before him.
     
    Lord Callander lay at the foot of the terrace, with his head on the ground and his legs still on the steps. Em sat next to him, stroking his face and calling his name, begging him to wake up. Lord and Lady Stockdale stood at the top of the steps and watched. They made no move to assist their uncle.
     
    By the time Angus reached them, the rest of the staff had come running out of the house. Weston was the only one with status enough among the servants to even think of touching their master and he was the first one to reach him. He began to lift Lord Callander.
     
    “ No! ” Angus yelled. “Don’t move him. He may have an injury to his neck.”
     
    Weston bristled at being given a command by a groom. “What are we to do then, leave him lie here?”
     
    Angus didn’t have time to worry about the manservant’s feelings. Nodding at Weston, he said, “You and