Page 23

“Higher, Sara!”

Sara gave Evie a final push and she went sailing on her swing with a whoop of joy. The sun was bright, warming the chilly air and prompting Sara and Evie to head outside to the maple in the front yard.

Sara kept an eye on the street, ready to duck inside as soon as James came into view. It wasn’t that she was afraid to face him. Quite the opposite. She wanted to share her thoughts and bask in his conversation, as they’d done by Evie’s bedside.

But she couldn’t allow the comfort of her situation to lull her into complacency. One misstep and she’d be out on the street again.

A horse trotted up to the front gate and a man dismounted. She saw at a glance it wasn’t James, but the man seemed familiar. His elegant wool suit was immaculate despite the dust of the road, a languid grace in his stance that reminded her of—

“Good afternoon. Is Kinney here?” He finished tying his horse to the hitching post and opened the gate.

She shuddered as she saw his face. The marble-smooth skin and odd, pale eyes hadn’t changed a whit. Twelve years ago, Stephen Osgoode had destroyed her life. Broken her father’s trust and pushed her out of her home forever.

All because she’d refused to marry him.

“You, there.” He motioned them closer. Evie skipped to the fence, but Sara didn’t budge, pressing her back into the tree.

Osgoode looked down at Evie. “Where is your papa?” He spoke with the forced joviality of one who wasn’t comfortable with children.

“I... He’s at the courthouse, I think.” Evie took a step back, eyes wary.

“Really?” He didn’t sound convinced. “He didn’t go to a meeting today?” His voice was unrelenting. Sara could well imagine the power he wielded in the courtroom.

“I don’t know.” Evie shrugged, her usually open expression closed. Sara understood her reluctance. There was a narrow focus to Osgoode’s questions that had nothing to do with casual curiosity. Was Osgoode a threat to James in some way? She shivered. He was a dangerous man to cross.

Osgoode pointed his riding crop in Sara’s direction. “Who’s that?” Sara’s heart stuttered.

“She’s my governess.”

“Ah, the governess.”

Sara ducked her head, praying the distance and the shadow of the maple tree would obscure her. Thank God she’d been too afraid of grass stains to wear her new gown outside. She released a slow breath as his attention switched back to Evie. He didn’t recognize her.

Osgoode twirled his riding crop, his eyes scanning the yard as though searching for clues. His focus suddenly shifted back to Evie. “When do you expect him home?”

“I don’t know.” Evie paused, her head tilting to the side. “Would you push me on the swing?”

For a heart-stopping moment, Sara wondered if he would.

Osgoode sent a horrified glance at the swing.

“No, I... I’ve things to do. I must—good day.

” He backed away to where his mount was tethered and swung up into the saddle without a backward glance.

Evie, bright girl that she was, said the one thing guaranteed to get rid of him.

She trotted to Sara’s side. “I don’t like that man,” she said once he’d ridden away. “He reminds me of Brian de Bois-Guilbert.”

Sara made a noncommittal sound in her throat at the mention of the villain of Ivanhoe . Evie didn’t know the half of it. She took a breath to quiet her still-racing heart. “Does he work with your Papa?”

Evie shrugged, wrinkling up her nose. “I don’t know. He’s never come to our house before.”

Sara’s shoulders relaxed. Not a close connection. From the few clues he’d let drop, she’d pictured James a reformer while Stephen Osgoode had been a Tory through and through. She couldn’t imagine that had changed. It was part of what her father had admired in him.

She bit her lip, realizing the delicate line she was treading. Toronto society was small. James Kinney would have never hired her if he’d known the scandal she carried. A wellborn woman who’d run off with a stable boy was not governess material.

Evie yawned. She was still recovering, though she considered any time spent resting in bed a sort of punishment. In lieu of a nap, Sara spread an old quilt in the sun and forced enthusiasm into her voice. “Now, what shall we read, my love?”

Instead of pouncing on her favorite from the stack, Evie plopped down on the ground, absently tracing the pattern of the quilt with her finger.

“I don’t care. You pick,” she said, lying back on the blanket.

“Are you feeling well?” Sara studied Evie’s face, feeling a twinge of concern. “Perhaps you should lie down.”

Evie’s head jerked up. “I’m fine.”

“Well, are you sure you don’t want to pick the book? You usually have an opinion.”

“How ’bout that bloke Ivanhoe?” A loud whisper floated across the yard.

“What on earth?” Sara scanned the fence along the side of the property. A dark shadow was curled up on the other side, barely perceptible through the iron slats. “Henry, is that you?”

There was a long pause while the shadow through the fence was motionless. “Aye,” he said finally.

“What are you doing here?”

“Coming every day for nigh on a week, I have.”

Sara glanced at Evie. She sat up straight, her little body crackling with excitement—but not surprise. She shot a hesitant look at Sara, one that spoke volumes about what her charge had been keeping from her.

“You knew he came?”

Evie looked down with a reluctant nod. “I saw him through the window. Brought him out some biscuits.”

Sara thought back to the many times Evie had asked to be excused. To visit the privy, or so Sara thought.

“Look,” Henry continued, finally giving up any attempt to keep his voice down, “there ain’t much time left before Rawley wakes up from his nap and takes to wondering where I be. Can’t you just read?”

Sara hesitated. James Kinney might not like it. Then again, it wasn’t as though she’d invited the boy. One more look at Evie’s face, eager and hopeful, and she made up her mind and opened Ivanhoe . “Where were we?” she said, flipping through the pages.

“About to start the tournament,” Henry said.

“I’ve been telling him all about it,” Evie explained. She turned to Henry. “Come over here with us.”

“I be just fine here.”

“Please?” Evie changed tacks, her voice cajoling. “I’ll share my biscuits with you.”

Henry made no response. Sara motioned Evie closer with a conspiratorial wink.

She began to read in a low voice, ensuring Henry couldn’t catch every word.

He soon stood up and placed his hands on the pickets.

In one fluid motion, he vaulted over the fence and came to lean against the tree behind them.

Sara finished the tournament scene with a flourish and Henry forgot himself enough to let out a whoop of approval when the mysterious Desdichado arrived to rescue Ivanhoe and vanquish every knight in evil Prince John’s retinue.

He dropped to the quilt and helped himself to a biscuit, listening while Evie prattled on about Desdichado’s probable identity.

Henry’s presence enlivened the little girl. As much as Sara worked to make lessons interesting, she was no replacement for a friend Evie’s age. But what would James Kinney think of a stable boy befriending his daughter? The gate slammed shut and Sara realized she was about to find out.

James made his way toward the group on the quilt, his serious gaze moving from Evie to Sara and coming to rest on Henry. “We have a visitor, I see.”

“I’s just leaving, sir.” Henry doffed his dusty cap and darted around James to the front gate.

“Wait,” Evie called. “Come back tomorrow. Sara can read us the next chapter.”

Henry froze midstep and looked back over his shoulder. “Rawley keeps me hopping most days. Not sure if I’ll be back.” He spoke slowly, as though he were testing the response.

“I’m surprised he ever lets you out of his sight.” James’s voice held a question.

“Well, he do like his naps. He don’t care what I do then, as long as my stalls are clean.”

“Hmmm, I see.” James rubbed his chin, staring down the street in the direction of Cooper’s Inn.

Sara bent to pick up the blanket and began to fold it with careful precision. Henry was just a little boy who needed love and companionship. Not so different from Evie, but she wasn’t certain if James Kinney would see it that way.

“He really likes Ivanhoe , Papa.” Evie’s voice broke into the tension. “He could help me learn my lessons, too, right, Sara?”

“Well, I—” Sara darted a glance at James, but his face gave nothing away. She’d need to get him alone and explain how this friendship benefitted Evie. From the corner of her eye, she saw Henry creep toward the gate.

“Henry!” James called, stopping the boy in his tracks before he could make his escape. Evie looked up at her father in surprise. Sara, too, held her breath.

James jogged to Henry’s side, bending over to say a few words in the boy’s ear. Henry nodded, looking up into James’s face for a long moment. Then he slipped through the gate with a final pat on the back from James.

“Evie,” James said, returning to where they stood under the tree. “Do you suppose Mrs. Hobbes has any more biscuits?” He looked down at the empty plate in Evie’s hand with a meaningful lift to his brows.

Evie nodded, sending Sara an encouraging smile as though she knew what the adults were about to discuss, then darted to the kitchen.

Sara lifted her chin, holding the folded blanket to her like a shield.

She’d calmly explain the advantages Henry’s friendship brought Evie and let James make his decision. It was as simple as that.

“Henry came uninvited?” James’s question came quick and sharp as soon as Evie was out of earshot.

Her hackles rose at the skepticism in his voice. “I had nothing to do with it, if that’s what you’re asking. Neither did I discourage him from joining us.” She took a breath. “Evie needs to be around children her age,” she continued, softening her tone. “Henry is good for her.”

“I wouldn’t have chosen Henry as an ideal companion for my daughter.”