"He does not like it when I go too far," the girl said. "He says I must stay where I can be seen."
"That sounds sensible, at least."
"It is not," she replied firmly. "It is dull. Come this way."
Eleanor rose without hesitation, and they began to walk together.
"And what should I call my guide?" she asked.
The child glanced back at her, as though surprised she had not already asked.
"Lily," she said.
"Lily," Eleanor repeated. "I am very pleased to meet you."
"I know who you are," Lily replied. "You are Miss Whitcombe."
Eleanor paused at that, though only for a moment. The girl turned again before she could ask her more, however, but Eleanor did not immediately move.
Her attention had shifted. She did not know how long he had been there, only that he was now and standing a short distance away, just beyond the curve of the path. He had not announced himself, had not interrupted, but he had seen enough.
Lord Harrowby’s gaze moved between them. He had not expected to see them, that much was certain.
"Lord Harrowby," Eleanor said. "Good morning."
"Miss Whitcombe."
His tone was even, though there was something more contained in it now, something quieter than the night before.
"You are awake early," Eleanor continued, hoping to distract him from the little girl.
"I am always awake early. I did not know that you had also taken it upon yourself to wander with children."
"Oh, I– yes, this is my cousin."
She did not know why she had said it. Perhaps, she reasoned, she did not want him to make any assumptions about her. She also did not want word to spread that there was a child disobeying her family, for she was certain that Lord Harrowby would insist upon them knowing.
"Your cousin?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
He studied her for a moment, as though weighing it. Eleanor looked at Lily, who seemed very concerned to have been found.There was a brief pause, and then Eleanor realized the mistake that she had made.
A brother that demanded order and perfection, one that insisted that she do exactly as she was told.
Lily, who had been watching the exchange, stepped forward at last.
"Do not send me away," she said.
Lord Harrowby’s attention shifted immediately.
"I have not attempted to."
"You will," she insisted. "You always do."
"I do not–"
"You do," she said firmly. "You say it is time for lessons, or time for reading, or time to go inside. It is always time for something."
Eleanor glanced at Lord Harrowby, a faint trace of amusement in her expression that she did not attempt to conceal. This was a man that always had control, yet this small child seemed to be bolder than him. She was certainly bolder than most girls in her position tended to be.