Page 12 of Persuading Penny (Jane Austen Association #4)

He served us all a slice and we dipped our dessert forks in it.

“I think a spoon might be more efficient,” Cliff said.

I stifled a laugh.

Keely took a bite. “It tastes great, Richard. All the flavor is there. It’s just a little...” She held her fork up to let the dessert drip off her fork.

“I think I might have undercooked the toffee and under-whipped the cream,” Richard said.

“The graham cracker crust is nice,” Reagan offered.

“Mommy, I don’t want this. Can I go play in my room?” Georgina said as she pushed her dessert away.

“All right,” Reagan said. “Bring your little brother with you.”

Tommy took a few quick bites of his dessert then jumped off his chair to join his sister, racing to be the first one at the first step of the stairs. They scuffled slightly, elbowing for that first position.

“Stop fighting,” Richard called to them.

They calmed down and stomped their way up the stairs.

“They really seem to be enjoying the house,” Keely said. She looked at me. “It must be a little strange to be in your house.”

I nodded and tried to ignore Cliff’s hard gaze. “It is, but we’re enjoying our time at the cottage.”

Cliff’s lips parted as if to ask a question, but he clammed up and said nothing. He fidgeted slightly and I sensed a degree of discomfort.

“My mum loves it out there,” I went on. “But I think she’ll be eager to return to Copperfield Corner when the time comes.” I looked to Richard and Reagan. “But my father is actually quite pleased with the arrangement, even though he complains constantly about the cottage.”

Cliff muttered something unintelligible, but as Richard asked what he’d said, we heard a chilling cry from upstairs.

Without hesitation, I pushed my chair back and ran to the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. On reaching the second floor, I realized it wasn’t my place to take charge of the situation, but the familiarity of Copperfield House made me forget about all that.

I reached Tommy’s room with Reagan and Richard coming up behind me a moment later.

“Mommy!” Georgina cried as she rushed into her mother’s arms. “I didn’t know he was going to open the window. I didn’t know it would fall.”

“That’s okay, sweetie.” Reagan looked at me with uncertainty in her eyes.

I rushed to Tommy, who sat on the floor just beneath his window. Holding his little fingers in his hand, he looked at us, his face red and streaked with tears.

I knelt before him, but instead of looking at his hand, I noticed a red gash on his forehead. I looked up at the window sash and noticed a small smear of blood.

“My fingers hurt,” he cried holding his hand out to me.

“And what about your head? Does this hurt?” I pressed lightly on the edges of the scrape.

He shook his head as he put his injured hand in mine. His fingers were red.

“What happened, Tommy?” Reagan said as she knelt beside me.

“The window,” he cried, pointing up above him.

“The window smashed your fingers?” I said.

With a fresh stream of tears, he nodded.

“And did it scrape your head?”

He nodded again.

Concerned he might have a concussion, I looked into his eyes. “Now, try to remember, Tommy. Did the window fall down on your head? How did this happen?”

He thought for a moment. “I open the window then lean my head on it to hold it up, but it didn’t stay, and it fell and it smashed my fingers.” He blubbered through the last words.

I glanced at Reagan and then back to Richard. “I’m so sorry. These windows can be tricky sometimes.”

“Is he okay?” Reagan said, quick to trust my judgement.

“The injury on his forehead looks superficial. The window seems to have just scraped a little of the top layer of skin. There’s no swelling or bruising. Could you bring me a clean wet cloth please?” I shot back to whoever could bring me a cloth.

Standing at the door, Cliff nodded and disappeared for a moment only to return with the damp cloth.

“Thank you,” I said as he handed it to me.

I dabbed the cloth lightly against the scrape on Tommy’s head.

“Ooh,” the little boy let out.

“Yeah, it burns a bit, doesn’t it?”

He nodded.

“But it’s nothing serious. I assure you. Now, let’s look at these fingers.”

I moved his little finger a bit. “Does that hurt?”

Sobbing, he shook his head.

“How about this one?” I said, trying another digit, and another.

Again and again, he shook his head.

But as I moved his index finger, he immediately cried out.

I looked at Reagan. “I don’t think the other fingers are broken, but this one might be. You should have him checked out at the clinic to be sure. We could put some ice on that... gently.”

Richard came forward and picked Tommy up. “Come on, little man. Let’s get a bit of ice on that and we’ll bring you to see a doctor.”

“I’m sorry for butting in,” I told Reagan. “I mean, you’re his parents. I shouldn’t have...”

“No. No. I’m glad you were there. You seem to know what you’re doing. Not only am I a klutz when it comes to things like this, but, well, when it’s your child you tend to get a little emotional.”

“I understand.”

Following them down the hall to the stairs, we passed by Cliff who stood there, his gaze on me. I met his gaze for a second, suddenly finding myself nineteen again, when he used to look at me that way.

Don’t, I told myself. Don’t start interpreting every little thing to mean more than it does.

“Is everything all right,” Keely said when we got downstairs.

Richard hurried past her to the kitchen with his son in his arms.

“Penny was quick to take action,” Reagan said.

Keely shot me a proud glance. “I’m not surprised.”

“She was the epitome of calm where I was just a bunch of frazzled nerves.

“Everything will be okay,” I said.

Again, I met Cliff’s gaze, and again, I thought I saw something there.

Or did I?