Before he reached the peace of the outdoors, however, he heard a sound.
A whisper quickly silenced. A whimper or a sob.
A young child.
Jeremy looked about for the source and found five sets of sad eyes watching him from a window seat in the nearest room. Fanny had only mentioned there was a daughter of marriageable age, not that there were a handful of tiny ones, too. They looked to be of an age to walk and talk but sat alone, with not a servant anywhere in sight to look after them. Their sad faces tugged at his heart.
He stepped cautiously into the room and lowered himself to their level. “Good morning.”
But they just watched him.
The children wore smocks and had their hair cut to a length just below their ears. It was impossible to tell boy from girl given the way they were dressed. They were probably too young to understand the scope of the loss that was about to befall the family, but they were sad just the same. “You’ll be all right if you look after each other, I promise,” he said, hoping that could be true. “What are your names?”
“They’ve been told to be quiet,” a woman said suddenly behind him. “And not talk to strangers.”
Jeremy shot to his feet and faced a woman of an age to be out. Despite the glare, she appeared worn down in spirit and resembled Mrs. Hawthorne a great deal. This could only be the daughter of marriageable age he’d heard about. “You must be Miss Hawthorne.”
She did nothing to confirm nor deny. “Who are you?”
“Mr. Dawes. I am Lady Rivers’ good friend. You must not have seen her arrival on foot from the woods.”
“No. I was taking a walk in the opposite direction,” she said slowly, but still seemed skeptical.
“Lady Rivers and your mother are just down the hall in the sitting room.”
Miss Hawthorne looked down the hall and then back at him, her eyes full of suspicion.
Jeremy put his hands behind his back. If he’d intended to steal anything from this house, he had sufficient time already to have made an escape. “I promise not to move from this spot until you confirm it.”
She frowned and then rushed down the hallway. At the sitting-room door, she cried out and rushed inside. The children followed after their older sister. Jeremy could imagine an affectionate greeting being exchanged within the sitting room, but he stayed rooted to the spot until Miss Hawthorne reappeared again and released him from his promise.
“Lady Rivers asked me to remind you not to go too far.”
He nodded. “I had only intended to stroll the gardens closest to the house.”
She glanced back inside the sitting room, a frown growing. “She said that would be best.”
As he turned, he noticed the children again. His character, if serious about courting Lady Rivers, would certainly try to win over her friends and be helpful. “Would you allow me to take the children outside for some air and exercise? Just in the gardens. They have been very quiet, and I think it would cheer them up to be in the sunshine.”
Miss Hawthorne seemed to sag at his offer. “It has been very hard to entertain them.”
“Then please allow me to be of assistance. Perhaps the children can show me their favorite play spots outside.”
“I think they would like that.”
Another quick grin, and Jeremy held out a hand to the young ones. “Shall we go outside and see if we can find any pretty flowers to brighten your mother’s sitting room?”
They rushed outside, ignoring his outstretched hand but holding on to each other. Jeremy followed, watching them run around through the gardens, then stop to confer with each other at a whisper. Then suddenly they darted off toward a distant garden gate.
“Wait! Please not too far,” he called but was ignored.
Jeremy lengthened his stride and gave chase into what seemed to be an orchard, annoyed that those seemingly placid children were as wily as any overly ambitious understudy determined to steal the scene. He eventually found them all sitting beneath an apple tree, holding hands and whispering.
He counted heads to make sure he had them all.
Then countered again—because he had two more heads than he’d thought he’d started out with.
But then he shrugged. Lady Rivers hadn’t said how many in number the Hawthornes were. He had seven now, instead of the five he started with. That could be all of them or perhaps there were more still somewhere about the estate.