Page 8 of To Heal a Broken Earl
“Of course we will, little lamb,” Lady Beadle interjected, nonplussed by Katie’s question. “And you must both call me Millie.”
Katie shook her head. “Mama told me always to ask and notas-thume,” she said.
“Your mama is a wise woman,” Lady Beadle said with a smile. “I would love to have two more nieces. How about you call meAuntieMillie?”
Katie gave a sleepy nod.
“Now then, we have a pretty bedchamber all ready for you. Doris can take you upstairs and help you get settled.”
“But what about Auntie Emma?”
“I’ll be fine here,” Emma said, kissing Katie on the forehead.
“But Polly gets scared at night,” Katie said, hugging her cloth doll close to her chest.
“Doris will stay with you and Polly the entire time,” Lady Beadle said.
“Yes, indeed,” Doris said, her voice soft and gentle. “Do you like bedtime stories?”
Katie nodded, her face lighting up. “Polly likes bedtime stories too.”
“I’m ever so glad to hear that. Because I love reading bedtime stories.” The older maid smiled. “How about we get you a warm glass of milk with some honey, and then I’ll read you and Polly a story. Does that sound acceptable?”
“That sounds really good.” Katie beamed. “As long as Auntie Emma comes later.”
“I will, sweetheart. I promise,” Emma said, hugging Katie tight.
Doris took Katie’s hand, but before they left, Katie turned and ran to Lady Beadle, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek.
“Thank you, Auntie Millie. For everything.”
“Oh, you are most welcome, my sweet child,” the older woman said, blinking back tears.
~*~
A short while later, Celia swept into the drawing room, her vibrant green gown fluttering around her as she rushed to Emma’s side and wrapped her arms around her. Some of Emma’s restlessness dissipated in the warmth of her friend’s hug.
Jenkins followed behind, along with Celia’s husband, Lord William Armstrong. Dressed impeccably in a tailoredcharcoal-gray suit that accentuated his dignified presence, Armstrong moved with the quiet confidence of a man accustomed to taking charge.
“You, poor dear—we cannot imagine what you’ve been through,” Celia said. “Where is Katie?”
“Doris took her upstairs. The wee child was exhausted,” Lady Beadle interjected.
Armstrong cleared his throat. “Lady Grantham…Emma, we are thankful that you and Katie are safe. You were very brave and resourceful. Can you tell us what you saw?”
Emma nodded. “Katie woke me up and told me she saw a man outside. I looked out the window of the carriage house to see if there was anyone in the yard and instead saw smoke billowing from the house.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Thinking it may have been a candle left alight—or perhaps the hearth in the kitchen had not been properly banked—we dressed and rushed into the house, only to discover the entire kitchen was up in flames.” Emma pressed a hand briefly against her chest.
“There was nothing we could do other than escape. I packed what little we could and saddled the horses. As we were leaving, I saw a man across the street…standing there. Just watching. I believe it was the arsonist.” Her voice faltered for a moment. “I didn’t get a good look at him—he was standing in the shadows. But Katie had seen him earlier from the window. What’s worse—he saw us. He knows we can identify him.” Her gaze swept over Armstrong, Celia, and Lady Beadle. “We must get word to Evie and Martin. They’re in Essex at the funeral of Martin’s late aunt.”
“I have a concern—one that I feel could be important, and I think I have an idea on how to fix that concern,” Lady Beadle said. “Emma fears that she brought trouble here. I’m not worried about that, but I do believe if you and your niece saw thearsonist, he may be looking for you. A good friend of our family, Lord Michael Wilton, is a former agent of the Crown and fought against Old Boney. He lives a quiet life primarily at his country estate and has mentioned he plans to hire a housekeeper at the Sussex residence. I think it would be the perfect place for you and Katie to stay while Armstrong and his friends track down this cursed villain.”
“Oh, but I couldn’t possibly impose on Lord Wilton’s privacy.” Emma did not feel comfortable accepting charity.
“You’re already acquainted with Michael’s sister, Lizzy, who is married to my brother, Baron Edward Sinclair,” Celia added, patting Emma’s hand.
“I do remember them. They are a lovely couple,” Emma said. She had met Lizzy and Sinclair at a dinner at Celia and Armstrong’s townhouse last month. The recently married couple were both kind and charming. “But that does not change the fact that I do not wish to be a burden.”
Emma and Evie had lost both parents at an early age and lived with various relatives over the years until Evie married Martin and sent for Emma once they had established a proper home. Although they had been educated as genteel young women, they had never truly felt as though they belonged.
