She smiled and wiped her hands on her skirt as her brother pulled away. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”
Aaron’s mouth fell slightly agape. Of all the things she could have said, all the day’s moments she could have shared, and she chose her difficulty sleeping?
“Today was so important and I didn’t”—she waved her hands in the air in front of her, as if creating the words by magic—“I was afraid.”
Mr. Fitzroy just nodded.
“I thought a walk might help, and as I went by the stable, one of the horses sounded restless. It looked like colic, so I walked him outside. I was sufficiently tired by the time he was ready to settle, but I didn’t want to leave him before I was certain he was well again, and I fell asleep in the stall.”
She rattled on about her morning, barely taking a breath. Aaron had either been present for or guessed some of it, but other parts—particularly the way Davers’s jockey had pressed in on her even more than he’d realized—were new, and he tucked the information away to think on later.
“And then Lord Gliddon came to the stable. I didn’t think about how my racing would affect other people, Jonas, but Mr. Barley and Mr. Whitworth might lose their jobs over this. But if I don’t work, we won’t have enough money to start over, and you won’t get better if you don’t rest, and—”
Had she forgotten that Aaron was still in the room? He softly cleared his throat. She didn’t notice.
“If we go to London, I can perform again. Maybe get a job with Astley’s Circus.” Her voice wobbled. Aaron’s heart seized. Was she going to cry? “At least Astley’s stays in one place and we wouldn’t be constantly moving. We could find rooms. Build a life.”
“You don’t want to live that way,” Mr. Fitzroy said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
Had they both forgotten he was here?
“We haven’t been able to live the way we wanted to for a long time. You said when we lost the riding school that it was more important to live the best we can.”
“Hmm, so I did.” Mr. Fitzroy glanced in Aaron’s direction. “And I think I’ve let you ramble on long enough to elicit pity, if Mr. Whitworth has any.”
Miss Fitzroy blanched and buried her face in her brother’s shoulder.
“I’ve pity enough to want to get you out of this cottage before it falls down around you. We’ve not had rain in a week, but that won’t last. Pack your things and bring the horse. We’ll determine what else is to be done later.”
There was a part of him that wanted to throw them a bundle of money and tell them to hightail it out of town. They needed more than money, though. No matter how he looked at it, Aaron didn’t think he could stay on the fringes this time.
Miss Fitzroy wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’ve caused you enough issues. I’m not going to invade your life any more than I already have.”
Of course she wouldn’t make this easy on him. “We had an agreement.”
“I’m sorry?” She frowned.
Aaron didn’t blame her. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say either. “We agreed that you would continue riding for me if you won. Do you mean to leave me without a jockey again?”
“I . . . well . . . but . . .”
While Miss Fitzroy floundered for words, her brother started laughing. He clapped her on the shoulder before turning to gather his meager belongings. “You know, Soph, I think this is the first man you’ve ever worked for that I like.”
Compliments never sat well with Aaron, so he looked around, seeking a change of topic. Carvings covered the room. “Did you do these?”
Mr. Fitzroy nodded as he folded a blanket. “Had to amuse myself somehow.”
“They’re good.”
The other man nodded his thanks and went back to work, leaving Aaron grateful for a normal exchange.
The siblings moved about the cottage, efficiently bundling the few belongings scattered in the room. A tattered Bible and a miniature, along with practical items related to caring for and training horses. At one point, Miss Fitzroy strained to break off part of the table, careful to do it behind her brother’s back. He guessed she was saving one of the carvings. He considered offering assistance, but she had been embarrassed enough today, so he kept her brother distracted while she finished.
It didn’t take long to load everything on the horse and lead it into the sunshine. Seeing such a majestic animal used as a packhorse hurt Aaron’s sensibilities. That the horse’s owner had been forced to peddle her skills instead of glory in them seemed a similar plight.
No matter how lofty one’s origins, in the end they did what they had to do to survive, even if it meant carrying a bundle of blankets instead of a member of royalty.
Aaron walked ahead of the siblings, giving them a semblance of privacy as they went the long way around town. For now, the fewer people who knew about Mr. Fitzroy and the horse, the better.
Aaron rubbed a hand over his face and glanced back to see Miss Fitzroy talking animatedly to her brother. He didn’t see any missing pieces when he looked at her anymore.
Now if he just knew what he was going to do with the picture he saw in front of him.
Twenty-Two
With the relative privacy of a few feet, Sophia held nothing back as she filled her brother in on everything she hadn’t already said.
“We prayed for a new start.” Jonas nodded ahead to Mr. Whitworth. “Looks like it might be. Just not the one we envisioned.” He paused. “God works like that, though. Moves in us in ways we don’t understand. He hasn’t failed us yet, and I’m going to trust that this is the best start for us, just like He provided a new start the last time we needed one.”
Sophia snorted. “You think the circus was the best path for us?”
“Better than scrounging for berries.” Jonas shrugged. “Think about it. We’re together. We’re alive, healthy—well, healthy for the most part. Once this injury heals, I’ll be good. Things could be worse.”
They could also be a lot better. What was Mr. Whitworth going to do with them? For that matter, where were they going? Every now and then she thought she recognized an area, but given they were walking through the countryside, it could just be that one tree looked similar to another.
Her stomach grumbled, reminding her she still hadn’t eaten today. The sun was on its way down as they approached a building she could definitely identify.
Hunger turned to nausea.
“This is Lord Farnsworth’s stable,” she hissed to Jonas. “Could Lord Gliddon be here? Or the magistrate? What if Mr. Whitworth brought us here to turn us in?”
“You’re being nonsensical,” Jonas answered. “For one thing, he hasn’t had time to plan anything like that. For another, what would he turn you in for? Last time I checked, there were no penalties for not stealing a horse.”
She took a deep breath. Jonas was right. He always was.
Still, she didn’t breathe easier until Mr. Whitworth passed behind the stable and continued down the lane that extended away from the house. It was little more than a wagon road, with a well-worn path between the ruts.
She wasn’t sure what to expect, but the small, well-tended cottage wasn’t it. A second building, almost as large as the first, sat behind, the wide door open to reveal two box stalls.