It was said with such longing, Edith had to smile. The memory of childhood was faint, but the same enthusiasm and liveliness was still clear as the day itself.
“That can happen, I fear. How old are you, Molly? If ye dinna mind me asking.”
“Almost seven,” she said proudly, “but I am very smart for my age.”
“Aye, I can see that,” Edith murmured, pulling some small leaves and twigs from her curly locks. They had no doubt looked pretty enough before, but with her running around, they now looked an untidy mess.
It suited her well, though no doubt her parents wouldn’t agree.
Then, her name echoed in Edith’s mind again, and her eyes widened. “Did ye say your name was Lady Molly Hastings?”
Molly gave her a disparaging look. “Yes, Edith, I did.” Then she looked down at her dress, and her expression paled considerably. “Oh, no. My dress! There is a hole in my dress. Oh, I am going to be in so much trouble.” She put her hands over her face and whimpered with what seemed to be real distress, more so than even when she had been stuck.
“It isna so bad, Molly,” Edith told her as she looked at it. The hole was hardly gaping, though it was rather front and center. Noticeable, yes, but hardly disastrous.
Again, Molly favored Edith with a look, one that would have terrified anyone of her age. “You don’t know Gray.”
“That bad?” Edith asked, thinking she had a fair idea of who Gray might be, but fearing to inquire.
“Worse,” the girl moaned dramatically.
“Well,” Edith said, biting back a smile, “then I suppose there is just one thing to be done.” Keeping her eyes on Molly, she took hold of her own skirts and began to tear the fabric in exactly the same place.
Molly stared at it, and Edith, with wide eyes.
“Edith, what did you do?” she breathed.
Edith shrugged, fighting the desire to laugh wildly.
“It’s only a dress, Molly. We can mend them.”
“Do you want to pick some more berries with me?” Molly asked, beaming. “Then, I promise I’ll go straight back home.”
Edith laughed and agreed, stepping forward to pick a few berries, and eating quite a few of them as she went.
Wild blackberries had never been part of Edith’s childhood experience, but they added perfectly to her present circumstances. Molly talked her through the process of finding perfect ones, and her knowledge of it all was really quite impressive, considering her age.
When they had finished, Edith took Molly’s hand. “Come on, lass. Let’s get ourselves back to Merrifield. I’ll walk with ye at least part of the way.”
“I like your accent, Edith,” Molly told her with a smile as she took her hand and began to skip. “It’s fun. It sounds like dancing.”
“I have never heard it described that way,” Edith replied, “but it may be my favorite description yet.”
Molly giggled, then looked at the path ahead of them, her expression falling at once.
Edith looked as well and swallowed.
Lord Radcliffe was storming towards them, his expression tight, his gaze fixed on the small girl next to her.
“Oh, dear,” Molly sighed, tucking some hair behind her ear. “Gray.”
Crivvens. Edith looked down at her. “He looks upset.”
She nodded and scooted a little closer to her. “He’s my uncle.”
Edith looked heavenward, afraid this was not going to go well at all. Eloise might have given her the freedom to go where she wished, but that likely had not extended to interacting with Molly. There had to be a reason why her existence was so little known. If Lord Radcliffe were the overbearing, overprotective guardian she imagined, he would not take kindly to this particular introduction.
Was Edith going to unearth all the secrets of Merrifield? Or simply the ones Lord Radcliffe felt particular about?
But there was nothing for it.
“Where have you been?” Lord Radcliffe asked when he was close enough. “I have been looking everywhere for you!”
Molly looked appropriately apologetic. “I’m sorry, Gray.”
He sighed and folded his arms, his eyes still fixed on her with the same intensity he used with everyone. “Answer the question, please.”
“I was picking berries,” Molly replied obediently, “and eating them.”
Edith clamped down on her lips to keep from giggling at the girl’s openness and honesty.
Lord Radcliffe’s gaze flicked to Edith’s without emotion, then back to his niece. “And?” he prodded.
Molly sighed heavily. “And I didn’t tell Nanny Florence where I was going, and as punishment, I got stuck in the bush.” She scowled and shuffled her feet again. “If I were taller, or able to wear breeches, this wouldn’t be a problem.”
Edith had to close her eyes for a moment, ready to lose all composure.
“And you, Lady Edith?” Lord Radcliffe asked, sounding nearly as severe, though a good deal more amused.
Edith’s eyes popped open, and she looked at him as innocently as possible. “Yes, my lord?”
His lips quirked. “What part do you play here?”
“None, my lord,” she replied. “I was walking the grounds, found her in distress, and freed her from it.” She let herself smile ruefully and tilted her head rather as Molly did. “And then I ate some berries, as well.”
He stared at Edith for a long moment, his mouth tightening as if he were not sure if he were angry or amused. Then, he looked back down at Molly.
“I don’t know what to do with you,” he sighed, unfolding his arms and setting his hands at his waist. “I am supposed to be hosting this nonsense, but instead, I’m out here hunting for you.”
Molly started to pout a little, looking down at her stained slippers, shifting uncomfortably where she stood.
Edith felt for the girl and put a hand on her back.
“If I may, my lord,” she murmured as gently as she could.
Lord Radcliffe looked at Edith again, one brow raised in silent query.
“I suggest that you return to your guests and host as you must,” Edith proposed, “and I will return the child home. I’ll sneak her back in before anyone can see anything.”
He snorted softly and gave her a bemused look. “You don’t know how to sneak through my house.”
“No,” she said simply. Then she indicated his niece beside her. “But she does.”
He looked down at Molly, his face softening, then back at the house with a bit of reluctance. “Point taken.” He hesitated, then exhaled roughly. “All right,” he finally agreed, turning back to look at Molly, “but we will discuss this later, young lady.”
Molly took Edith’s hand. “That means I’m in trouble,” she whispered loudly.
Edith bit back a grin and looked at her uncle. “Does it?”
He looked at her quickly, then back at Molly, his brow furrowing.
“Edith will protect me, Gray,” Molly said staunchly.
“Will she now?” he asked, again looking at Edith.
There was something in his gaze now that caused the strangest tingling in Edith’s toes, and a slow burning began in her cheeks.
“Yes,” Molly insisted with a nod. “She’s my friend.”