Sadie was an Indian elephant that the Marchioness of Hastings had sent to Charles who, at the age of seven, had already been a budding naturalist. Before she’d gone to India, the Marchioness had asked Charles what he would like as a pet.
‘Oh, nothing smaller than an elephant,’ he had said.
Little had Charles or his parents expected a beautiful female of the species to be delivered to their home several months later.
Papa had been remorseful, wishing that his son’s ill-timed remark had not resulted in the captivity of such a majestic creature. Wick had been too young to understand his father’s moral objections to keeping an elephant as a pet. He’d loved Sadie from the first time he saw her. Almost as much as Charles.
Wick had even helped his father build Sadie a large house on Animal Island. It was well ventilated, with every particular arranged for Sadie’s comfort. Nor was she kept in a paddock. She was free to roam all around Animal Island as far as the iron gate before the bridge. But Sadie preferred her house, which Charles had taught her to clean herself. The clever elephant would take up a bucket of fresh water from the river and then, using a broom or scrubbing brush, begin to wash her home.
Merrell cleared his throat, recalling Wick from his memories.
‘Is there anything you need, or something you would like to bring to my attention?’ Wick asked.
‘Naught, my lord. All is as it should be. Your sisters are in the camel leopard enclosure.’
‘Inside?’
The horror that Wick felt must have shown on his face, for Merrell clapped him hard on the back. ‘Don’t worry, my lord. Them’s gentle creatures who wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘I assume you mean the camel leopards? For I can assure you that my sisters most certainly are anything but gentle.’
Merrell laughed again, but Wick had not been joking. He tipped his hat to the head keeper and tied his horse to the bridge. He’d learned at an early age that horses did not get along with the creatures on the island.
Crossing the bridge, he unlocked the fence on the other side and stepped onto the river island.
He saw the llama, which stood by the elks. The kangaroo bounded towards him but didn’t kick. His luminous eyes seemed to say he remembered Wick. Next, he passed the emus and ostriches—impressive flightless birds. They were rather mean creatures, though, so they had to be kept apart from the cockatoo, peacocks and the gold and silver pheasants. Then came the paddocks for the Neapolitan pig, the coatimundi, the different varieties of goats and the Indian bull.
He saw the elephant’s house ahead of him, but he didn’t have it in him to go there either. It reminded him too much of Charles. Turning to the left, he went to the camel leopard enclosure. There were two long-necked creatures there, that were nearly eighteen feet high. Between them was a baby which was six feet tall and had been nearly four stones at birth. It swayed on its thin legs.
Frederica, Helen and Becca were stroking the baby calf. Dear Mrs May was next to them, as fearless as his sisters. Miss Nemo stood near the gate of the enclosure, her face pale. She was wearing the same dress he’d found her in the day before, except it was no longer dusty from travel. Mrs May must have had a maid tidy it up.
Wick opened the gate. ‘Good morning, miss.’
He tipped his hat to Miss Nemo. A beautiful flush formed in her freckled cheeks and she gave him a glittering smile. Heat spread throughout his body. The woman was too fetching for her own good, and her temperament even sweeter.
‘Good morning, my lord,’ she said, in a low, sultry voice.
Wick swallowed down his desire.
She had to go.
Immediately.
‘I will have a carriage take you wherever you wish to go, and provide enough money for you to start again elsewhere. But it is time for you to leave, Miss Nemo.’
The young woman lowered her head. ‘I understand, my lord. I will go immediately. I have an uncle who might help me.’
‘His name?’
She sniffed. ‘I would like to retain my anonymity. Your driver may drop me off in the city of Sherborne. I can make my way from there.’
He saw that her hands were shaking and felt a pang of guilt. But he was not like his parents. He did not take in strays. His only responsibility was to ensure she was returned to her family.
‘Oh, stuff it, Wick,’ Frederica said, walking up to them and taking Miss Nemo’s arm. ‘She’s staying with us until we solve the mystery of who she is and why she has run away.’
Helen took Miss Nemo’s other arm. ‘And we need a governess anyway.’
Since both of Miss Nemo’s arms had already been taken, Becca leaned on his. ‘Please, oh, please, Wick. Miss Nemo will make an excellent governess. She has already taught me so many things on our walk here, and she has promised to show me how to do an embroidery stitch called a French knot.’