Page 19 of Impossible
She exhaled. “I suppose. Still, you could be more amenable. Perhaps you can try at our next stop.”
“What would you have me say?”
Ada lowered her voice to a deep rasp. “Good morning, I’m Lord Warfield and this is my secretary, Miss Treadway.”
“You arenotmy secretary.”
She grunted in response, mimicking the way he did it. “This is my annoying houseguest, Miss Treadway. She’s going to open her annoying little book and ask several annoying questions. Then she’ll scribble in her book and perchance ask you even more annoying questions. She will also eat all your bread.”
Ada watched him as she imitated his low, grumbly tone. The barest of smiles flashed across his lips. She nearly leapt from her seat with a delighted cry.
His scowl moved back into place. “Don’t say a word, or I’ll never do it again.”
She clapped her hand over her mouth and swallowed her giggle with great effort. There was a happier gentleman underneath his brusque exterior—she just knew it. If she could glimpse him by being silly, perhaps she could find a way to coax him free.
He steered the cart onto the drive of the next farm. This one was larger than the Spratts’, with a two-story cottage and a large barn not far from it. “They have sheep,” Warfield said.
“That’s helpful to know.” Ada tried to remember who had sheep and what the farmers’ names were.
As they neared the cottage, two small children ran outside and headed for them.
“What the bloody hell?” Warfield brought the horse to a swift halt. “They’re going to get themselves killed behaving like that.”
They both, no more than five years of age, ran right up to the cart—on Warfield’s side. Ada’s breath stalled in her chest, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to watch.
The cart stopped. There was no screaming or awful sound of wheels going over a small body. Surely Ada would have felt that. Carefully, she opened her eyes and saw the children standing next to the cart, their gazes fixed on the viscount. Thank God.
Drawing deep breaths to calm the frantic racing of her heart, Ada didn’t wait for Warfield’s assistance to climb down from the cart. She moved quickly to greet the children. The older one was a girl, and the younger was a boy. Both had dark hair and wide brown eyes.
“Good morning,” Ada said a bit more shakily than she would have liked. She realized it was surely afternoon by now, not that the children would notice. “I’m Miss Treadway and this is Lord Warfield.” Their eyes grew even wider as they looked at the viscount, who still sat in the cart, his gaze dark and unreadable as he stared at Ada—not the children. She hoped he hadn’t noticed her panicked reaction to the children.
Ada crouched down in front of the children to draw their attention from Warfield. “What are your names?”
The girl pointed to her chest. “I’m Daisy, and this is Jem.”
Ada smiled at them both, noting that Jem was still looking at Warfield, his expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“He looks angry,” Daisy said, pointing at the viscount.
“Because I am,” Warfield answered, climbing down from his seat. Both children moved back. “You shouldn’t have run toward the cart. You could have scared the horse and caused an accident injuring us or yourselves. Don’t you know any better?”
Though he sounded frightening, Ada was glad he’d said it. Theycouldhave caused injury. Ada closed her eyes against the distant memory.
“Papa did say not to bother horses,” Daisy answered somewhat sullenly. “We didn’t mean to be naughty.”
Ada exhaled, her pulse finally returning to normal. “You weren’t naughty. But you must be safe. We’ve come to speak with your parents. Are they about?”
“Mama’s inside with the baby. They’re sick. Papa is with the sheep.”
“I’m sorry to hear they’re sick.” Ada wondered how ill they were. It was no wonder these children were running about. Plus, they werechildren. They tended to run about.
“Perhaps we should come back another time,” Warfield murmured.
Ada turned to him and spoke in a low tone. “I want to check on their mother to see if she needs any help. I’d like to know how sick they are.”
And who would help them if they needed it? It wasn’t as if Ada could send someone from the house. There was no one to be spared. Perhaps they could hire someone from the village. If not, she was tempted to come herself. The thought of these children putting themselves in harm’s way was untenable.
“Don’t bombard her with questions,” he said sternly.
