Page 50 of The Forgotten Boy

“Yes, probably.”

“When will you come back?”

“As soon as I can. The moment wider affairs are settled, I’ll confess all to my father and come claim you properly as my bride. The Countess of Rutland.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “You will wear the title well.”

“I don’t care about the title, or any title. Except that of your wife.”

She would not go down to see them off, for she did not want Edward, with his knowing eyes, assessing her this morning. Instead she climbed back up to the solar and watched the company ride out, Edward at the front, Edmund bringing up the rear.

As he passed out of sight, Ismay swore she saw a small shape form in the spot where he had been. The form of a child.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

DIANA

NOVEMBER 1918

Diana woke Monday morning, grateful that her nightly tormentor had left her alone for once. Either the living person had left the school for the holiday or the nonliving whatever was as aware of the terrible tension as everyone else at Havencross. She really wanted to pull the covers over her head and go back to sleep, not to get up again until, preferably, the world had righted itself. But nurses ran on duty, so she rose out of bed.

Diana had just finished putting the last pin in her coiled hair when she heard a soft knock.

Joshua looked unusually remote, as though he either had no emotions or had buried them exceptionally deep. Diana’s greeting died on her lips.

“Miss Somersby wants all the adults in her office in five minutes,” he announced.

She started to ask why, but he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

They walked silently together through the bare, medieval corridors into the opulent Victorian ones. By the way Joshua kept clenching and unclenching his hands, Diana thought his tension was also at the breaking point.

Please, she prayed silently, please let this be what I hope it is.

Clarissa Somersby wore every bit of her headmistress, upper-class armor this morning. The five masters and staff currently in residence—Joshua, Weston, Beth Willis, the cook Mrs. McCann, and Diana herself—stood before her desk like soldiers on review while Clarissa sat, palms down on the desktop before her.

“I have been on the telephone for nearly two hours,” she told them, “confirming the news from Newcastle to London. By every reliable report, an armistice will be signed by noon today.”

The announcement dropped into perfect silence. Diana almost wondered if she’d imagined the words, dreamed them into an auditory hallucination. Then Joshua gripped her hand, uncaring of any audience, and she felt the same fine tremble in him that was running beneath her skin.

Clarissa cleared her throat to break the oppressive silence. “Our first thought is for the students still here. The vicar announced that there will be a service of thanksgiving this afternoon, and likely a parade and more secular celebrations tomorrow. I propose that the masters escort the students into Hexham for both.” She looked down at her hands, her voice flat and tense. “Obviously this is an epochal moment in history, but it is also a personal one. Every one of you in this room has sacrificed a great deal in various ways the last four years—I regret that I have not the gift of acknowledging you as I wish to—but please know that I am aware of how … complicated this day is. For all of Britain, it is a day of both joy and grief.”

The morning passed in a foggy haze for Diana, punctuated by a few clear moments. She sat with Jasper Willis for a bit. His cheeks had gained color, Diana noted; save for the broken leg, he appeared completely recovered from his ordeal. She showed him the coin she’d found. She had washed it to reveal the silver. It was not Roman—it had the face of a medieval king surrounded by Latin: EDWARD IV DI GRA DEI REX ANGL.

She let Jasper explain the abbreviations and translate, even though Joshua had already done so for her. “It says, ‘Edward IV de gratiam Dei Rex Angolorum’ or ‘Edward the Fourth, by the grace of God, King of England.’” He was definitely pleased to be instructing the school nurse in Latin.

“Do you know where I found it?” Diana asked casually.

He shook his head.

“At the spot where Mr. Murray located you that morning.” She watched him, his eyes downcast so that his long lashes almost swept his cheeks. “Why did you go all the way out there, Jasper? Did you know about the medieval icehouse ruins?”

He shook his head again. “No, miss.”

“Then what was it?”

“I don’t want to say it,” he whispered. “You won’t believe me.”

“Let me guess. You saw … someone. Who said, ‘Come hide with me.’” She repeated the phrase Austin Willis had told them all earlier. “You think it was a ghost.”

“I know how it sounds. I’m not stupid. I was staying in Austin’s room last night, cause of half-term, and I didn’t want him to be alone. I stayed awake, in case. And I was right, ’cause the ghost boy came back for him, but Austin stayed asleep and I went with him instead.”

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