His Wicked Embrace by Adrienne Basso Page B

been neglected through the years and had not had a thorough cleaning in a very long time.
    The children paused when they reached the third floor landing. “Molly, Fran, Ned and Joe, Penny, Maggie, Fred and Norman all live up there,” Catherine explained, pointing toward the fourth floor.
    It took a few moments for Isabella to realize Catherine was showing her the servants’ quarters. “In that case, I believe we should begin our hunt on this floor. All right?”
    Catherine reached for her brother’s hand and admonished in a mature voice, “Stay close to me Ian. You don’t want to get lost up here.”
    The little boy nodded solemnly and tightly clutched his sister’s hand. Isabella was touched by their need and trust in each other. She followed quietly behind them, assisting with a stubborn latch or stuck door as needed. At the fourth door they located the schoolroom.
    â€œHere it is,” Isabella declared brightly, as she crossed the sunny, dusty room. She struggled mightily with the window hinges, finally succeeded in opening several of the leaded glass windows. The warm, fresh air helped to displace the musty odor.
    â€œI am sure that after a good scrubbing, the room will be quite adequate,” Isabella said. She continued exploring the room while Ian and Catherine watched in silence. Reaching into a wall cupboard, Isabella found several slates and a few pieces of chalk.
    Mentally, Isabella began compiling a list in her head of supplies that would be needed. Writing tablets, ink, watercolor paints, drawing paper, primers and other appropriate books. Isabella hoped the castle’s library would hold many of the reading materials she needed. She always enjoyed reading aloud to her charges, especially at bedtime.
    Ian and Catherine also began exploring the room, and Catherine gave a loud shout of enthusiasm when she discovered a large tin box filled with toy soldiers.
    â€œAren’t these wonderful, Ian?” Catherine said excitedly. “They are ever so much nicer than the other soldiers we have. With all of these soldiers, we shall have much larger battles.”
    Ian nodded in agreement and eagerly helped his sister sort through the box. In a short time, the children’s hands were filthy, covered with the dust and dirt of the toy soldiers.
    â€œI think we should get some soap and buckets of water so that we may begin cleaning up in here,” Isabella announced when she saw the children’s blackened hands. “You and Ian may give your soldiers a bath. I am sure Mrs. Amberly will be able to provide us with all the necessary cleaning supplies. Perhaps one of the maids can be spared to help us also.”
    The children seemed unimpressed with the notion of cleaning up. “We will wait here for you to return, Miss Browning,” Catherine decided, lining up several infantrymen.
    It was not an unreasonable request, and normally Isabella would have been inclined to agree. But she was reluctant to leave the children alone and besides, she could not find her way back to the kitchen without the children’s guidance.
    â€œI believe it would be best if we all go find Mrs. Amberly together,” Isabella insisted. At first she thought Catherine would continue to protest, but with a last longing glance at the dirty soldiers strategically lined up on the floor, the little girl stood up. Ian instantly imitated his sister’s actions.
    They took a different, more direct route down to the kitchen. As they negotiated around numerous wooden crates cluttering one hallway, Catherine abruptly stopped. A large painting, carelessly placed among the crates, claimed the child’s attention. Leaning over, she stared closely at the painting, a sober expression on her sweet, innocent face.
    After a careful examination of the picture, Catherine announced importantly to her younger brother, “This is our mother, Ian. I remember Jenkins showing it to me when it used