Page 27 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
With a last nod of goodbye, Townsend turned to rejoin his companions. They bent their heads toward each other in quiet conversation before separating at the next street corner and heading in different directions.
Perhaps they were canvassing the area for voters? Except the voters Mr. Townsend oversaw were in boroughs and a county far from the buildings and streets that surrounded him.
Finlay considered the men’s actions for a moment longer before he shrugged and continued on his way. He had his own issues to handle before he could allow himself to ponder the actions and motivations of a man who appeared to be hunting some unknown quarry.
Despite his attempts at indifference, the idea Townsend and his men were in the area made him wary.
Chapter Ten
“Mrs. Taylor, have you finished your lessons?”
Charlotte paused, her hand on the door to the kitchens. She pivoted and dipped a curtsy. “For now I have, my lady. But I’m to help Miss Meyers plan the Michaelmas party later this afternoon.”
“And do you intend on spending the time until then in the kitchens?” Lady Flora asked, her head cocked to the side. She was outfitted in a practical puce riding habit, a no-nonsense military cap perched on her black curls, and a crop tucked under her arm. She appeared as exactly who she was—a competent sportswoman.
“A helping hand is never amiss in the kitchens, my lady.”
Lady Flora smiled. “I’m sure not. Still, would you be willing to assist me with my lessons today? I have ten wee ones, including little Steven Cunningham.”
Charlotte rocked back on her feet. Ten children at the park was definitely a handful, but the addition of little Steven made it more precarious. She was almost tempted to suggest the boy be left at the home, but dismissed the thought. Steven might be challenging, but he deserved to partake in the riding lesson as much as the other children.
“I haven’t ridden in several years, and then only a handful of times.” She licked her lips. “Is that all right?”
“I merely need help with keeping all the children in one place. This group is advancing to cantering, and while I’m up on the horse with one of the tots, I don’t want the rest to take it upon themselves to explore the park. Duncan usually helps me, but he had business to see to.”
Charlotte smiled.“I won’t be as intimidating as Mr. Duncan, but I’m certain I can keep young Steven from bolting away when your back is turned.”
“Oh, thank you!” Lady Flora turned on her heel toward the back door. “I’ll meet you in the front. The children will be lining up shortly.”
As the Scotswoman had said, Charlotte found their young charges lined up on the walk under the watchful eye of Mr. Larson, the history instructor. Several of the girls squealed with delight when they learned Charlotte would be accompanying them on their lesson. Lady Flora brought a placid white mare around the side of the building to join them, and the group began their march to the park.
Opting to walk next to young Steven as a precaution, she kept up a steady stream of conversation. She pointed out the colorful assortment of produce on display at the corner stand, asked if he heard the trill of the warblers up in the trees, and commented on the crisp breeze, which she suspected promised afternoon rain. All through her talk, little Steven remained silent, occasionally glancing in the direction she’d indicate, but mostly content to look about him. Charlotte hadn’t expected him to speak. The boy hadn’t spoken one word since he had arrived at the home, and she doubted his muteness was a result of trauma. She suspected that was just how Steven was.
When they arrived at the park, Flora demonstrated the proper position to assume for a less jarring canter. After explaining the mechanics, she numbered off the children to allow them a chance to put her lesson into practice. Charlotte stood by, quietly watching the children climb upon the white mare and practice cantering with huge smiles on their faces. She also made sure Steven stayed close by her side.
A loud screech whipped her head around. Two of the girls stood huddled together, pointing to something in the tree. When she approached, they looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. “We’ve seen that little squirrel every time we’ve come to the park,” young Betsy cried, “and that big bird just scooped him up and carried him away.”
Charlotte doubted the girls were seeing the same squirrel but knew better than to tell them such. It was easy to make out a large sparrowhawk enjoying its squirrel lunch, and she was sorry the sight was so distressing for the girls.
“Nature is not always beautiful, and more often than not, is brutal and gritty. Without his squirrel meal, that sparrowhawk may have found it difficult to make it through the winter. I’m sorry you had to witness the squirrel’s noble sacrifice,” she said, offering each girl a sympathetic smile.
Turning, she felt her stomach drop. Steven was nowhere in sight.
“Steven!” She spun in a circle, desperate to catch a glimpse of the rascal’s blond head. She raced to where the other children stood queued for their turn on the horse. “Has anyone seen Steven?”
Large eyes and muted headshakes were her answer. Fear streaked through her, but Charlotte willed it to not overtake her. Panic would not help her locate the boy.
“Children, please stay here while I walk about. Steven probably wandered away to investigate some sight.” She kept her tone light and her smile easy.
“He probably went to the lake, Missus Taylor,” a young tyke offered. “Steven likes the water.”
The children nodded in unison, and Charlotte battled the urge to cry. If Steven made it to the water before she found him, would he stay along the shore? She wasn’t certain he would, and the alternative terrified her.
She set off toward the small lake, her skirts gripped in her hands and her feet echoing on the walk as she jogged toward the water’s edge. Gaze darting along the shoreline, she prayed she’d catch sight of the small boy, and terror curdled in her throat when she didn’t. She dashed to the right, looking to and fro, even peering into the waters. A sudden high-pitched laugh made her stumble to a halt. Looking over her shoulder, she saw little Steven standing next to Lord Inverray, laughing in delight as Finlay launched a small paper boat into the waters. When the small vessel made it over the first cresting wave, the boy clapped gleefully, and the men laughed.
Finlay met her eyes as she approached, and he must have seen something in them because he stood and walked toward her. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
She swallowed and gestured toward Steven, who still had not looked away from the paper boat, which miraculously had not sunk. “I was looking for him. I turned my back for one moment, and he was gone.”
