that threatened to erupt in open warfare at any moment—rather like the tense situation in Europe as Napoleon returned to power. Grace did not want war to come again so soon. She thought of Hannah, whose master was an officer recently returned home after years of service in the cavalry. Neither did she want hostilities with Charlotte to escalate. But she could not purchase peace at the cost of her authority over the Nethercross nursery.
As Grace paused to let the ink dry she heard faint sounds from the nursery. Ever since Sophie’s nightmare, she had left her bedroom door slightly ajar at night in case the child called out for her.
Though that was not what Grace heard now, she wondered if it might be Sophie murmuring in her sleep, begging those she had lost to come back. Laying aside her pen, Grace rose and crept toward the door, her ears straining to make sense of the whispers drifting in from the nursery.
It wasn’t Sophie talking, at least not only her. All three of the girls seemed to be carrying on a hushed but emphatic conversation that was growing louder than they could have intended. Grace was about to call out for them to get to sleep when she suddenly picked out a familiar word from the girls’ furtive exchange. That seemed to be the key, making the rest come clear.
“…must stand up to Miss Ellerby,” Charlotte urged her sisters in a fierce whisper that carried clearly to Grace’s ears. Was the child so intent on making her point that she did not notice her voice had risen? Or did she not care if the governess overheard her? “Otherwise she’ll do just as she likes and turn Papa against us.”
“You’re just put out,” Phoebe countered, “because Papa sided with her the other day and because he’s pleased with me instead of you for a change.”
“I didn’t care for Miss Ella at first.” Sophie scarcely bothered to lower her voice at all. “But I do now. She understands about things.”
“You two are impossible!” Charlotte hissed. “She’s turned you against me, as well.”
“She has not,” Phoebe snapped. “You’re doing that all by yourself.”
“I’m not against you, Charlotte.” Sophie’s plaintive little voice sounded choked with tears. “Why are you so angry with me? I’ll try not to like Miss Ella if you don’t want me to.”
Grace had heard quite enough. She’d overlooked Charlotte’s criticism and insolence, hoping to win her cooperation with kindness. Clearly that had not worked. Grace was not about to let the child take out her frustration upon her sisters.
Striving to sound more confident and controlled than she felt, Grace pushed open her door and strode into the nursery. “Girls, I’m afraid your whispering has grown too loud to ignore.”
She headed straight toward Sophie’s bed and put her arms around the tearful child. “Charlotte, I am not prepared to tolerate any more of your troublemaking. I know you do not want me at Nethercross, but that is your father’s decision, not yours. You are wrong if you suppose I am trying to turn him against you.”
The child did not argue with her openly as Phoebe would have done. Instead, she retreated into petulant silence that seemed to crackle like thin ice beneath Grace’s feet.
“Hush, Sophie.” Grace stroked the child’s hair. “Your sister is not angry at you and I’m certain she did not mean to upset you. Isn’t that right, Charlotte?”
After a long, fraught moment, Charlotte spoke. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I know you aren’t against me.”
“No one is against you, Charlotte,” Grace insisted as she continued to comfort Sophie. “But I must insist you give me your obedience and respect. Otherwise, I shall not be able to take you with us when we visit the Cadmores.”
She tried to keep her voice calm, so as not to provoke the child or further distress her sister. But her statement of the consequences Charlotte would suffer for her continued insolence roused
As Grace paused to let the ink dry she heard faint sounds from the nursery. Ever since Sophie’s nightmare, she had left her bedroom door slightly ajar at night in case the child called out for her.
Though that was not what Grace heard now, she wondered if it might be Sophie murmuring in her sleep, begging those she had lost to come back. Laying aside her pen, Grace rose and crept toward the door, her ears straining to make sense of the whispers drifting in from the nursery.
It wasn’t Sophie talking, at least not only her. All three of the girls seemed to be carrying on a hushed but emphatic conversation that was growing louder than they could have intended. Grace was about to call out for them to get to sleep when she suddenly picked out a familiar word from the girls’ furtive exchange. That seemed to be the key, making the rest come clear.
“…must stand up to Miss Ellerby,” Charlotte urged her sisters in a fierce whisper that carried clearly to Grace’s ears. Was the child so intent on making her point that she did not notice her voice had risen? Or did she not care if the governess overheard her? “Otherwise she’ll do just as she likes and turn Papa against us.”
“You’re just put out,” Phoebe countered, “because Papa sided with her the other day and because he’s pleased with me instead of you for a change.”
“I didn’t care for Miss Ella at first.” Sophie scarcely bothered to lower her voice at all. “But I do now. She understands about things.”
“You two are impossible!” Charlotte hissed. “She’s turned you against me, as well.”
“She has not,” Phoebe snapped. “You’re doing that all by yourself.”
“I’m not against you, Charlotte.” Sophie’s plaintive little voice sounded choked with tears. “Why are you so angry with me? I’ll try not to like Miss Ella if you don’t want me to.”
Grace had heard quite enough. She’d overlooked Charlotte’s criticism and insolence, hoping to win her cooperation with kindness. Clearly that had not worked. Grace was not about to let the child take out her frustration upon her sisters.
Striving to sound more confident and controlled than she felt, Grace pushed open her door and strode into the nursery. “Girls, I’m afraid your whispering has grown too loud to ignore.”
She headed straight toward Sophie’s bed and put her arms around the tearful child. “Charlotte, I am not prepared to tolerate any more of your troublemaking. I know you do not want me at Nethercross, but that is your father’s decision, not yours. You are wrong if you suppose I am trying to turn him against you.”
The child did not argue with her openly as Phoebe would have done. Instead, she retreated into petulant silence that seemed to crackle like thin ice beneath Grace’s feet.
“Hush, Sophie.” Grace stroked the child’s hair. “Your sister is not angry at you and I’m certain she did not mean to upset you. Isn’t that right, Charlotte?”
After a long, fraught moment, Charlotte spoke. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I know you aren’t against me.”
“No one is against you, Charlotte,” Grace insisted as she continued to comfort Sophie. “But I must insist you give me your obedience and respect. Otherwise, I shall not be able to take you with us when we visit the Cadmores.”
She tried to keep her voice calm, so as not to provoke the child or further distress her sister. But her statement of the consequences Charlotte would suffer for her continued insolence roused
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