“She wouldn’t understand.”
Giving the doorframe a rap, Gwendolyn took a step into the room. “Do you mind if I join you?”
A second later, Priscilla jumped up from her pint-sized chair and barreled across the room, surprising Gwendolyn when she wrapped her little arms around Gwendolyn’s legs and gave her a squeeze before she stepped back and beamed a gap-toothed smile at her.
“Miss Brinley, I didn’t know you was coming. Oscar’s fixing Susie. He’s never done any sewing, but Susie’s sad about her arm, and Samuel’s hiding in the wardrobe cuz he’s sad I’m sad, but now that you’re here, I’m not feeling as sad anymore, and . . .” Priscilla gulped in a breath of air. “I don’t want to see Miss Lowe ever again cuz she was mean to Susie, and Susie doesn’t like her now, and I was hoping you’d come by someday so I could tell you that.”
Gwendolyn grinned, unable to resist the adorable face peering up at her. Leaning down, she scooped Priscilla into her arms and gave her a hug, not setting her down because Priscilla wrapped her arms around Gwendolyn’s neck and leaned her head against her shoulder.
Gwendolyn’s heart melted on the spot as she realized the little girl in her arms, who could certainly be a terror at times, just needed what every little girl needed, someone to hug when her rag doll’s arm got torn off by a woman who wanted to marry her father.
“I’m sure Miss Lowe didn’t mean to rip off Susie’s arm. I also imagine she feels quite bad about doing that.”
“She didn’t say sorry.”
Gwendolyn patted Priscilla’s back. “I bet she didn’t beg your forgiveness because of all that rain. I saw her running toward a carriage lickety-split when the heavens opened and soaked everyone clean to the bone.”
Priscilla pulled back, her nose wrinkled. “I didn’t feel my bones getting soaked.”
“Then you should count yourself fortunate, but if you do encounter Miss Lowe again, I hope you won’t try to kick her on behalf of your Susie, even if Susie tells you she wants you to.”
Priscilla blinked. “How’d you know Susie asked me to do that?”
“Because my sister Bridget had a doll by the name of Dolly, and every time Bridget did something she knew she shouldn’t have done, it was always because Dolly told her to do it.”
“Dolly sounds bossy. Sometimes Susie can be bossy too, but I told her no more kicking from me, no matter what she wants. I don’t want God to send a lightning bolt after me.”
“God’s not going to send a bolt of lightning after you, darling. That was simply Oscar teasing you. However, God does expect you to behave, and not simply because you’re worried about a lightning strike.”
Priscilla’s little forehead scrunched. “Will it count if I try to be good but acc . . . i . . . dently be naughty every once in a while?”
“As long as you’re trying, and then, if you do something naughty, say you’re sorry and really mean it.”
“I can do that.”
“Then I think you’ll be fine with God.” Gwendolyn gave Priscilla a squeeze before she set her on her feet and moved to stand next to Oscar, who was sitting at a miniature table, plying a needle and thread to his sister’s doll. “Would you like me to take over?”
Oscar’s head shot up. “You know how to sew?”
“My mother was a seamstress. She thought it prudent for her children to learn that skill, because one never knows when you’ll suffer a wardrobe malfunction.”
“What’s a malfunction?” Priscilla asked, slipping her hand into Gwendolyn’s as she joined them.
“It’s when hooks on your frock come apart, or when you trip on your hem and tear the fabric.”
Priscilla frowned. “Don’t you have a lady’s maid to do that fixing for you?”
“I don’t, although I make use of my cousin’s maid when we travel.” Gwendolyn grinned. “It’s a bit tricky to button up buttons by yourself when they march down the back of a gown.”
As if that made perfect sense, Priscilla nodded before she resumed her seat, taking a moment to consider the work Oscar was doing on her doll. “You’re doing a great job, Oscar.”
A smile curved Oscar’s lip. “That’s nice of you to say, Priss, but would you be comfortable letting Miss Brinley give this a go? I’m afraid I’m making Susie’s arm look like a scene straight out of that Frankenstein book I’ve been reading to you and Samuel.”
“You’re reading them Frankenstein?” Gwendolyn asked.
“It was Samuel’s request this week, but . . .” Oscar lowered his voice. “I’m not reading the scary parts. Priss wouldn’t sleep for a week.”
“I heard that,” Priscilla said, her expression turning mulish. “And I would too sleep if you read me the scary parts. I’m not a scaredy cat.” She turned to Gwendolyn. “The next book is my choice. Oscar’s going to read us Heidi.”
“I never said I was going to read that,” Oscar argued. “You only want to hear the story because it’s about an orphan, and as I keep telling you, we’re not orphans.”
“We don’t have a mother,” Priscilla said, as if it settled the matter before she looked up at Gwendolyn. “Oscar gets sneaky when he doesn’t want to read one of our choices. He thinks Heidi will make me sad. That’s why he tried to get me to agree to let him read the German Heidi, knowing I won’t understand most of it.”
“I wanted to read it to you in German so you and Samuel can begin learning a second language.”
“I don’t even know all the English words yet,” Priscilla grumbled.
Gwendolyn swallowed a laugh before she arched a brow Oscar’s way. “You’re fluent in German?”
He shrugged. “It’s not a difficult language to learn.”
“He knows French too and is learning Latin. Well, until he left school,” Samuel said as he wandered out of the closet, lugging a cage Gwendolyn would bet good money held Rat, the extremely troublesome guinea pig. “And he’s really good with arithmetic. He taught me and Priss how to count to three hundred, and he’s teaching us to add.” Samuel set down the cage and rubbed his nose. “He does a better job teaching than our governesses, but Grandmother Ethel says we’re getting a tutor soon, so the governesses won’t need to worry about teaching us for long.”
“Unless Papa gets married and we get shipped off to boarding school,” Priscilla said, her lower lip trembling. “I don’t want to go away to school. They might not let me take Susie, and she’d be lonely without me.”
“Your father hasn’t mentioned a thing to me about sending you off to boarding school,” Gwendolyn said as she settled herself into one of the miniature chairs, taking the doll Oscar handed her.
“Papa might not want to send us, but a new mother will,” Priscilla said. “New mothers send children away cuz they don’t like to share.”
“Where in the world did you hear that?”
Oscar sat forward. “She overheard one of the maids talking.”
“Ah, that explains it.” Gwendolyn opened her reticule and began rummaging around in it. “I wouldn’t worry you’re going to be sent off to school, Priscilla. Your father seems to be a reasonable man. If I actually find him a suitable wife this summer and she suggests such a thing—which I’m certain she won’t, because I won’t find your father a lady like that—if you tell him you don’t want to go to boarding school, I’m sure he’ll be more than receptive to simply bringing in a tutor.”