KDBookOnline
Share Us
“What I think, Georgie, is that you should keep your damned mouth shut. You aren’t nearly as clever as you think you are, whelp. And—”
“Children?” Hannah came up from behind them. She looked out of breath, like she’d been hurrying to catch up. “Oh, good. You’re late for your embroidery lessons, Miss Rose, and Master George, Mr. Pershing has found his atlas for your geography lesson.”
James stopped and let the maid catch up to them. “What is it, Hannah?” he murmured. “You think I’ll hurt the boy? My own brother?” He shifted his grip, grabbing George by the wrist, and half dragged him up to Hannah. “Or are the little ones an excuse for you to chat with me? I’ve had my eye on you, you know.”
Hannah stepped back a little. “I’m… I’m just here to collect the children, Mr. Fletcher.”
“I don’t think the Pershings sent you at all.” James moved up closer again. “I think you came out here all on your own, just to see me.”
“She said we have lessons,” George muttered, trying to pull his hand away.
They didn’t have embroidery or geography lessons right now, because today was manners, but Rose didn’t say that. This was not good. She and George had made James mad. And now he was mad at Hannah, too, just for trying to help them. “Stop it, James,” she said, “or I’ll scream.”
“If you scream, I’ll throw you in a rosebush,” he retorted.
Those thorns would hurt. She closed her mouth, trying to think where everyone was. The Pershings were probably in the breakfast room getting ready for good and bad manners practice. She couldn’t see the gardeners. Billet and the grooms were the closest, then. “No, you won’t,” she shouted, and ran.
James Fletcher grabbed for his sister, and with a quick breath Hannah shoved him in the shoulder. He stumbled, and the little girl vanished behind the corner folly. When he straightened again, he grabbed for her, too, but Hannah ducked away from him.
“Let George go now, please,” she said, wishing she could keep her voice steadier. If she hadn’t glimpsed them out the library window and been suspicious… Oh, this could still be very bad.
“Don’t worry, Hannah. I’ll let him go. We’re just having a chat. Aren’t we, George?”
“Let me go, James. Then we can talk.” The boy tried to yank his arm free again, and skidded onto one knee.
James bent, grabbed on to George’s leg, and hefted him into the air. Taking a dozen strides forward, he heaved George forward—and threw him into the pond. “What did you want to talk about, Georgie?” he called. “I can’t quite make it out!”
Hannah screamed as the boy went under. Flailing, he grabbed on to a handful of reeds, but they came loose in his hand and he submerged again. “George!”
“I can’t sw—” He went under again.
James stood there, laughing, as his brother splashed and sputtered. She wanted to kick him, punch him, but she didn’t want to end up in the water herself. Instead, she ran for the dock and the punting pole lying across the small boat.
A hand grabbed her shoulder. “He won’t learn his lesson if you get him out too soon.”
“Let me go!”
“Not so fast, sweet Hann—”
Billet leaped over the hedgerow and plowed into James, knocking him flat on his face. “Hands off, you bastard,” the groom growled, rolling to his feet.
“The pond!” Hannah yelled, pointing. “George!”
Leaving James where he’d fallen, Tom Billet sprinted to the edge of the water, throwing off his coat as he went. He didn’t dive, but waded in, reaching out toward the boy. “Calm now, scamp,” he said. “Johnny, keep Mr. Fletcher there on the ground.”
The two stable boys had arrived just behind Tom, she realized. Johnny, a pitchfork in his hands, stood over James and aimed the tines at the young man’s chest. “Stay right there, you.”
Finally, up past his shoulders, Billet caught hold of George. Drawing him close, he backed up, keeping the boy high and tight against his chest. “I’ve got you, George. Slow breaths, lad.”
Abruptly Mr. Pershing was there, as well, wading in after them without hesitation, despite his fine boots. Powell and Mrs. Pershing were right behind him, and most of the rest of the staff after them. “Where’s Rose?” Mrs. Pershing demanded, her voice tight.
“Roger’s with her at the stable, ma’am,” Johnny said. “Billet told them to hold for a whistle before they came over here.”
Tom managed to turn around, facing the shore, and he handed the boy off to Mr. Pershing before he stumbled out of the reeds. For God’s sake. Hannah had known he had a good head on his shoulders, and a better education than a groom might strictly require, but what he’d just done was much more than those parts. When he straightened up again, his thin shirt wet and clinging to his well-muscled chest, her heart started pounding all over again.
“I’ll get Rose,” Hannah volunteered with a squeak.
Mr. Pershing gave her a nod, and then Mrs. and Mr. Pershing and most of the household staff hurried back into the house, George still in Mr. Pershing’s arms. Billet, shaking water out of his hair, walked straight up to her. “Did he hurt you, Hannah?”