Page 95 of Harpy of the Ton
Bella stared at the kitchen. The plates and bowls had been neatly stacked beside the range, and the table wiped clean.
There was no sign of her husband. He must have gone to his study to work on the garden design.
My dream. Nobody else’s.
She sighed and made her way to the parlor. She placed a log onto the fire, suppressing the ripple of fear as the flames swelled around it. Then she sank onto the sofa.
The children followed. Jonathan climbed onto the sofa beside her and took her hand.
“Don’t be sad, Mama,” he said. “You might leave us if you’re sad. I’ll work harder in school, then Mrs. Chantry won’t be so angry with me all the time.”
“What makes you think I’d leave?” Bella asked. “Has Mrs. Chantry said anything?”
The boy shook his head.
“What, then?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but Roberta gave him a push. “Jonathan’s playing the fool.”
“Mrs. Chantry’s said nothing,” Jonathan added.
“She told me you can’t read,” Bella said. “Is that true?”
He colored and lowered his gaze.
“There’s no shame in being unable to read at your age. You’re only…”
She hesitated—why couldn’t she recall how old her children were?
“I’m six, Mama.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Hecanread,” William said.
“Then why refuse to read in class?” Bella asked.
“Because I can’t readnow,” Jonathan said. “I’ve forgotten. At least—I know what the words look like, but when I try to read, I can’tseethem.”
“Did you tell Mrs. Chantry this?”
“She thinks I’m playing the fool. I can read the sign outside the school, but I can’t read in class. Tommie says I’m going blind, and I might be dying. He said his Papa couldn’t read, then he got pains in his head, then one day he dropped dead and never woke up.”
“And you think that might be happening to you?”
Jonathan nodded. “My head hurts when I try to read. I’m frightened.”
“He cries in the night,” Roberta added.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bella said, her heart aching at the distress in the boy’s voice. “Or your father? Didn’t you think we’d want to help?”
“Papa says I must grow up to be strong. He’d be angry if he knew. And you…” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to tell you.”
“If you can’t tell your mother, who can you tell?”
“But you’re not—Ouch!” Jonathan cried out as Roberta kicked him in the shin.
“Bobby, don’t do that!” Bella said. She glanced about the parlor, and her gaze settled on a pile of books in the corner. She rose and picked one up. “Can you read the title?”
