Page 43 of Captivating the Countess
The child sniffed, muttered something incomprehensible, and buried her face in the doll again.
“Let us talk alone a little while, Miss Damon. You have your hands full with the others.”
The governess laughed easily. “They’re good children, just full of energy. Let me know if you need anything.”
After she left, Bell drew over a chair and looked through the books left on a table. “I cry when I’m lonely or sad or afraid. Can you tell me which you are?”
The child shook her head.
Acting on instinct more than any knowledge of how a child’s mind worked, Bell found a fairy-tale book and opened it to the pictures. “I’ve never seen fairies, have you?”
Drucilla looked up warily to study the drawing of a lovely flying creature with gossamer wings. She shook her head.
Bell flipped the pages to see if there were any familiar stories. “I’ve not seen gnomes or witches, either.” She pointed at an illustration of a frightened little boy and girl cowering from a black-hatted witch. “Not that kind of witch, anyway. I don’t know any mean witches. I don’t see any ghosts in here. Have you ever seen ghosts?”
Drucilla’s eyes widened. “Mama says there’s no such thing as a ghost.”
Oops. Out of all the many Malcolm children running about, there had to be at least one sensitive to the mansion’s anxious spirits, Bell supposed. Looks like she’d found her.
Hiding any reaction, Bell nodded and continued turning pages. “Very few people can see ghosts. They don’t like to believe what they can’t see. But I see them, so I know they’re real.”
That was a lie. Other than that dark shadow under the musician’s gallery, she’d never seen one. But she knew they were real. She had an uneasy notion that one had sent her up here.
“You see ghosts?” the child asked in awe. “Do people laugh at you?”
Bell shrugged. “Of course. Most of the time, I just don’t tell anyone. But sometimes, the spirit has something that needs to be said. It’s not easy knowing when to tell anyone.”
“They scare me.” Drucilla buried her face in the doll again.
“Would it help if you sat on my lap? Maybe we can talk to your ghost and make her go away?” Bell set the book aside.
“I can’t get up good.” The child sounded a bit angry about that.
Bell couldn’t see the damaged leg under the child’s long skirt and petticoat. She didn’t know how damaged it was, so she couldn’t encourage her to walk. “If you will allow me, I’ll pick you up. Has your Uncle Rainford looked at your leg?” She didn’t wait for permission but simply lifted the child from the rocker and sat down with her.
Drucilla shook her head again. “It got broke and can’t be fixed. I don’t care. I don’t want to play with those meanies anyway.”
Bell knew enough about children to realize they often said the exact opposite of what they meant in order to hide how they felt. She hugged the small creature in her lap and lifted the book. “We won’t worry about your leg for now. Let’s talk about the ghosts that make you scared. What do they do?” She pointed at the flying fairy. “Do they fly?”
“No, silly,” the child scoffed. “They float.” She turned the book pages and pointed at a magic genie on a carpet. “Like that. Except they got no rug. And no feet, I think.”
Interesting. Seeing a ghost was probably a lot scarier than hearing one. “My ghost sounds more scared than I am. What does yours look like?”
“There’slotsof ghosts,” she declared. “Lots and lots. The lady is angry. She makes doors slam, and I get yelled at.”
“Ah, yes, that’s a problem. She’s slamming doors everywhere. She’s very angry. I think it’s because she’s also sad, but she doesn’t talk to me in ways that I can understand. Does she talk to you?” Bell was terrified for the child but had utterly no idea what to do.
Drucilla shrugged again. “Mama says I’m supposed to play with children and not listen to things I make up in my head.”
That was a trifle difficult for a child who couldn’t even climb out of a chair. “It’s hard to tell if we’re making up things or hearing things, I know. But I’d like to see your ghosts sometime.”
Bell tried to understand how to help the child, but she felt lost in this situation. “If I tell Miss Damon to send for me whenever a ghost makes you afraid, would you tell her when you see one? You don’t have to tell anyone else. I think she’ll understand. I work not too far from here, and I’d come just as soon as I could.”
Drucilla pondered that while flipping pages of the book. “I guess so,” she said reluctantly. “I don’t like being scared.”
“Neither do I, love.” She squeezed the child again. “So maybe if we talk to the angry lady together, she’ll go away.”
She nodded a little stronger. “Mama says if we work together, things get done faster. I help with her yarn.”
