Page 24 of Attempted Compromises
Her proximity made Andrew pull back instinctively, his spoon clinking against the side of his bowl. Caroline’s wide grin faltered for a moment, replaced by an almost irritated gleam in her eyes. “Now, now,” she said, reaching out to brush a nonexistent crumb from his sleeve. “No need to be shy with me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
Andrew’s small body stiffened, his fingers tightening around the spoon. Caroline’s hand lingered on his arm, and her relentless cheerfulness began to feel overwhelming, suffocating even. His lip trembled slightly, though he tried to keep his gaze fixed on his bowl.
“You’re such a tidy little eater,” Caroline continued, though her tone had lost its earlier warmth. “Your father must be so proud of you.”
She reached out again, this time brushing his dark curls in what she imagined to be a comforting gesture. But the suddenness of her movements, coupled with her overly enthusiastic tone, seemed to unsettle Andrew further. He jerked back in his chair, his tiny hand jostling the spoon as he did so.
The spoon tipped precariously, and before Caroline could react, a large dollop of porridge splattered across the front of her gown.
Caroline froze, her expression hardening as she looked down at the pale blob staining her silk bodice. For a moment, the room was silent save for the faint rustling of the curtains in the breeze. She stared at the stain in disbelief, then, her lips tightened and her voice sharpened. “Andrew! How careless of you— Look what you’ve done!”
The boy’s small chest rose and fell rapidly, his breaths shallow, the smile faltering on his face. His lip began to quiver as his earlier unease quickly turned into outright panic. Caroline, oblivious to his mounting fear, stood abruptly, brushing at her gown with a look of pure irritation. “S-sorry,” he mumbled, his small frame shrinking under her sudden tone.
Caroline’s irritation flared. “Sorry? This is not how a gentleman behaves!”
Andrew’s eyes filled with tears, but Caroline paid no heed. “This gown is silk!” she hissed, her tone no longer sweet. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to clean porridge out of silk?”
Her voice, though not loud, carried a cold edge that made Andrew’s eyes fill with tears. Before she could say more, Andrew pushed his chair back with a loud scrape. The boy scrambled down from his chair and bolted from the room, sobbing as he ran out into the hall.
“Andrew!” Rebecca called after him, rushing forward to follow. She paused only briefly to glare at Caroline, her normally composed expression now filled with disapproval. “You frightened him.”
“He made a mess, of course,” Caroline replied dismissively, brushing at her sleeve as though the smudge were an affront to her very existence. “You should be more attentive. The boy has no sense of discipline.”
The nurse frowned but said nothing, quickly leaving to find Andrew. Caroline stood frozen for a moment, then looked down at her dress again with a grimace. “Children,” she muttered under her breath. “Such little terrors.”
She turned on her heel, muttering under her breath as she exited the nursery, all thoughts of demonstrating her maternal instincts forgotten.
Chapter 7
Elizabeth jumped slightly as the door opened, and she was met by the sound of rushing footsteps. A stressed looking footman stood there, momentarily startled by her unexpected and early arrival. He held the door open for her, but before either of them could speak, a small, sobbing figure barreled past Elizabeth with a wail, his little legs moving as fast as they could carry him.
She barely had time to register the child—a boy of no more than two—before he darted down the steps and into the garden. His legs began to move more clumsily, his cries growing louder with each gasping breath. Without thinking, Elizabeth spun around and followed.
“Andrew!” came a voice from inside, but Elizabeth didn’t pause to see who had called out. Her instincts propelled her forward, her skirts gathering mud as she hurried after the child, who had already stumbled down the path and made his way onto the soft, wet ground of the lawn.
He didn’t get far. Elizabeth gave chase, but he was already slowing, his sobs turning into horrific ragged gasps that sent panic shooting through Elizabeth. His small body wobbled as he clutched at his chest, his breaths coming in short, desperate wheezes.
She reached him just as his knees buckled, and she dropped to the ground without hesitation, gathering him into her arms. Mud soaked into her skirts, but she paid it no mind as she gathered the boy into her arms.
“Shh, little one,” she murmured, cradling him against her chest. His face was streaked with tears, and his lips were tinged with blue, his small frame trembling violently. “It’s all right. I’ve got you now.”
The boy clung to her, his tiny fingers gripping her as if she were a lifeline. His breaths were erratic, interrupted by hiccupping sobs, but Elizabeth kept her voice calm and steady.
“You’re safe now. I promise, you’re safe. Just take deep breaths for me. Slow and steady, like this.” She demonstrated, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, her calm presence encouraging him to mimic her.
His cries slowed, and he looked up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes.
“Breathe with me,” she said again softly, rocking him gently. “In… and out. In… and out. That’s it, darling, nice and slow.”
It took a few moments, but her soothing voice and rhythmic movements began to work, the boy’s breathing graduallyevening out. His cries subsided into whimpers as he buried his face in her shoulder. Elizabeth adjusted her grip, tucking his head under her chin as she continued to rock him gently, her hand smoothing his curls.
“That’s it. You’re so brave,” she whispered. “You’re doing so well.”
She began to rub his back gently, still rocking him. “There we go,” she said again, her voice tender. “You’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you. Can you tell me what happened?”
The boy lifted his tear-streaked face, his brown eyes wide with fear. “Scary…” he mumbled, his small voice trembling. “Lady…”
Elizabeth’s brows knitted together as she tried to piece together his words. “A scary lady?” she asked gently. “Did someone frighten you?”
