guide her to the master suite.
She hesitated; should she knock? The matter was decided for her as the footman thought she was waiting for him to open the door. He did this with a flourish; announcing her to Foster and the doctor as if she was appearing at a ball.
“I apologize for not arriving sooner, but I have only just received your message.”
The young man bowed. “The news is far better than you might have anticipated, my lady. Lord Bentley has a concussion, but he has regained consciousness and is perfectly lucid. I’m certain there is no permanent damage and a week or so resting in bed will fully restore him.”
Her legs suddenly refused to hold her upright and she swayed. Instantly Dr Stansted moved forward to guide her to the nearest seat. “Lady Bentley, this news has been a shock to you. Remain still for a few moments until the faintness passes.”
“I am feeling better, thank you. I had come here prepared for the worst. Relief quite overwhelmed me.” She glanced at Foster. “Do you require my services in the sickroom? I have experience, I have nursed my niece and nephews on many occasions these past few years.”
“No, thank you, my lady. I can manage myself. His lordship would be most displeased if I allowed you to do such menial work.”
“In which case, I shall leave him in your capable hands. If he should enquire as to my whereabouts, I am taking the children down to the lake for a picnic this afternoon.”
“Very well, my lady. Have you met Nanny Brooks?” The warning twinkle told her what to expect when she braved this lady’s territory.
“I met Nanny Brooks when she delivered the children to me earlier.” She smiled at the physician. “I must thank you for your assistance, sir. Shall you be returning again today?”
“No, not unless his condition deteriorates. Foster has instructions to send for me should that be the case. However, my lady, I don’t anticipate this happening. You mustn’t worry unduly. Lord Bentley has a strong constitution; he will be up and about again in no time.”
“In which case I must bid you good day. Foster, I shall call in when I return.”
She almost skipped from the room. All that remained was for her to vanquish the woman who had controlled the lives of the children these past few years. The fact that Brooks had half-starved them gave her the courage to march into the nursery. Her steps were light. She was not to be named a murderer after all.
Faced with a row of identical doors along a narrow, uncarpeted passageway on the top floor of the house, she had no idea into which one she should make her entrance. She could manage to remain obdurate in the face of whatever opposition she encountered from Nanny Brooks. However, if it took her several attempts to locate the children she rather thought her courage would evaporate.
The only way to be sure was to listen outside. What if someone emerged from one of the other doors and caught her eavesdropping? Her credibility as the children’s mother would be destroyed in an instant. Strange, when the children had left her, they were full of vitality and noise—so why could she not hear them?
She walked briskly across to the door in the centre and pushed it open. Three heads turned, but none of the children got up from their chairs or said a word in greeting.
This would not do. They were petrified. What else could be keeping them so still and quiet?
“Brooks, I wish to speak to you. Now.” Her anger added authority to her voice. She remained where she was; what she intended to say to the woman must be spoken in front of the children. Lucy’s eyes widened and Eleanor braced herself.
The woman was behind her; forewarned, she did not stumble forward in shock. “Lady Bentley, it’s customary for the children to be brought to you. I didn’t expect to see you in my nursery.”
Slowly she turned to face the nanny who had been mistreating her husband’s dear children for the past few years. “I am
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley