She stopped breathing.
She was certain all of the hair on her arms and her neck stood on end, though she of course couldn’t see the hair on the back of her neck.
She stifled a whimper.
“It’s just the wind it’s just the wind it’s just the wind it’s just the wind,” she whispered. Mrs. Durand had said so, and she’d been a governess, and knew so many things. Andsurelyshe wouldn’t send Dot into danger? Both Mrs. Durand and Mrs. Hardy cared about her, she knew. They cared about everyone.
This made her feel a little better, and she proceeded more confidently, even as her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might crack her ribs. She could hear it in her ears, mingling with the lyrics of the song.WhooshWhooshWhoosh.I’ve a stick up me bum...
Thusly she crept across the kitchen, one foot in front of the other, as if on a narrow fence rail, either side of which was water filled with crocodiles, heart pounding.
She exhaled in relief when she saw the book,The Ghost in the Scullery,sitting neatly right next to the pump, precisely where she’d left it. Snatch it and run like the devil back up the stairs—that’s what she would do.
She stretched out an arm to seize it.
Just as the tip of an icy finger pressed the back of her bare arm.
“BOLLOCKS!”she roared, and shot straight up in the air, spun around, and hurled her fist like a shot put.
It connected with the granite jaw of Mr. Pike.
His arms swung in wide loops as he staggered backward, fighting for balance. He careened into the wall, slid down it.
And lay still.
Dot stared down at him. Mouth agape.
Riveted in absolute horror.
Then dropped to her knees.
“Mr. Pike!” she moaned. “I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry.Speakto me, Mr. Pike. Please.” She clapped her hands to her face and moaned. “Ohhhh, I killed him. I’m going to Newgate. I’m going to the gallows! I’m going to hell! I’m going tocast my accounts!”
The prospect of being vomited upon after being nearly knocked out cold reanimated Mr. Pike, who groaned in abject horror and rolled to his side.
“Oh, thankGod! Mr. Pike, you’re alive.” She sat back and clasped her hands over her heart.
He sat up with some effort, and gave his head a shake. He gingerly touched his jaw where she’d connected. “I’m fine, Dot. Don’t youdarecast your accounts.”
“I’ll try not to. But I feelillover hurting you! I’m so terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, let alone knock you down.”
“It’smyfault,” he said grimly. “I tried to scare you and obviously I failed.I’msorry.”
“You did scare me! I thought you were a ghost touching me and I’m ever so afraid of ghosts!”
“Afraid?You thought I was a ghost and you nearly knocked me out cold! Frightened people run and scream like banshees. They don’tattacklike Gentleman Jackson.” His face was scarlet with equal parts outrage and approbation.
“Don’t say banshee!” she begged.
“Oh, forGod’ssake...” He groaned in frustration. He rubbed his jaw delicately.
“And please,pleasedon’t tell Mrs. Hardy and Mrs. Durand I said ‘bollocks.’” She sucked in a breath. “Oh, I said it again! What if I can’t stop saying bollocks?” she said wildly. “Help!See what you’ve done!”
“Dot,shhh, or we’ll have an audience for this debacle. Take a breath, and then take another. Let’s both.”
They both took long breaths.
Silently she reminded herself to ask Angelique what “debacle” meant.