nearness of him. It was unsettling and confusing and she didn’t like it one bit. She was grateful when he started back toward the house.
“Let’s find Izzy,” he said, “and see what she has to say for herself.”
It was only then that Phoebe remembered that she’d left Helen and Bruno beside the fountain in the forecourt. And only when she discovered them gone, did she realize what a dreadful mistake that had been.
Chapter 3
Phoebe’s brow creased in worry as she scanned the empty forecourt. “It’s not like Helen to wander off alone.”
“Izzy,” Lord Farley muttered. “Damn that child.”
Phoebe didn’t bother to rebuke him for the oath this time. She felt like echoing him herself. This was Izzy’s doing. Still, she couldn’t believe that Izzy would go so far as to harm Helen. “Maybe Bruno ran off and Helen followed him.”
“Or maybe Izzy took him again.”
Still holding the baby, he strode to the front door, shoved it open, and bellowed for someone named Benson. Within seconds a stocky man arrived, pulling on his coat as he shuffled up. “Here. Take Leya,” Lord Farley ordered. “Like this.” He positioned the baby as Phoebe had showed him in the man’s reluctant grasp. “Alert the staff that Izzy and Mrs. Churchill’s daughter, Helen—”
“She’s not my—”
“—have gone missing. Also, a puppy named Bruno. And whoever you give Leya to, have them hold her just this way.” Then, still in his shirt sleeves, he strode toward the far side of the house and the myriad outbuildings beyond.
After only a moment’s hesitation, Phoebe went after him, holding up her skirts as she ran to keep pace with his long, angry strides.
“She likes the stables. And also the ice-house,” he muttered. “Don’t ask me why.”
“I’m beginning to think she might be trying to furnish a little hideaway of her own, somewhere in the woods near my house.”
“I don’t understand that girl.”
“Nor I. But as you are her father, you must learn to,” Phoebe said as they entered the stable.
He shot her a sharp look, causing her to turn away from those disturbingly direct eyes. It reminded her, though, of something she needed to be reminded of: that he was a viscount and she a mere farmer’s daughter. She didn’t need her exacting mother here to tell her that she had no business instructing him about what he should or should not do.
The problem was that she had no actual experience dealing with the nobility. Despite her mother’s endless lectures on the proper way to behave in polite society, she’d had very few opportunities to put those lessons to the test.
On the other hand, it was his daughter causing all the trouble, not Helen—whom he still thought was her daughter. Eventually she would have to disabuse him of that notion.
In the main section of the stable they found no evidence of the children. While he checked the several stalls and the tack room, Phoebe scurried up the ladder to the hayloft. Again she found no children, but there were signs of Izzy’s presence in the past. An empty cup. A sheet. A doll and a doll bed.
“Look at this,” she called down to Lord Farley.
In a moment he was beside her in the dusty, low-ceilinged portion of the loft. He picked up the doll with her cracked face and faded gingham dress. “If I remember correctly this is one of Sarah’s dolls.”
“Sarah?”
“My youngest sister.”
Phoebe recalled from Mrs. Leake’s remarks that Lord Farley had two sisters. Half-sisters. Just as Izzy had a half sister in Leya, and other half siblings through her mother in London.
“Poor Izzy,” she said, taking the nearly hairless doll from him. “She must be very lonely. I’m guessing she misses her family, even if they aren’t ideal. You know, I’m beginning to think she’s trying to create something of her own here, a family she can feel safe with.” She looked up at him. “That could be why she took this doll, and it’s probably why she tried
“Let’s find Izzy,” he said, “and see what she has to say for herself.”
It was only then that Phoebe remembered that she’d left Helen and Bruno beside the fountain in the forecourt. And only when she discovered them gone, did she realize what a dreadful mistake that had been.
Chapter 3
Phoebe’s brow creased in worry as she scanned the empty forecourt. “It’s not like Helen to wander off alone.”
“Izzy,” Lord Farley muttered. “Damn that child.”
Phoebe didn’t bother to rebuke him for the oath this time. She felt like echoing him herself. This was Izzy’s doing. Still, she couldn’t believe that Izzy would go so far as to harm Helen. “Maybe Bruno ran off and Helen followed him.”
“Or maybe Izzy took him again.”
Still holding the baby, he strode to the front door, shoved it open, and bellowed for someone named Benson. Within seconds a stocky man arrived, pulling on his coat as he shuffled up. “Here. Take Leya,” Lord Farley ordered. “Like this.” He positioned the baby as Phoebe had showed him in the man’s reluctant grasp. “Alert the staff that Izzy and Mrs. Churchill’s daughter, Helen—”
“She’s not my—”
“—have gone missing. Also, a puppy named Bruno. And whoever you give Leya to, have them hold her just this way.” Then, still in his shirt sleeves, he strode toward the far side of the house and the myriad outbuildings beyond.
After only a moment’s hesitation, Phoebe went after him, holding up her skirts as she ran to keep pace with his long, angry strides.
“She likes the stables. And also the ice-house,” he muttered. “Don’t ask me why.”
“I’m beginning to think she might be trying to furnish a little hideaway of her own, somewhere in the woods near my house.”
“I don’t understand that girl.”
“Nor I. But as you are her father, you must learn to,” Phoebe said as they entered the stable.
He shot her a sharp look, causing her to turn away from those disturbingly direct eyes. It reminded her, though, of something she needed to be reminded of: that he was a viscount and she a mere farmer’s daughter. She didn’t need her exacting mother here to tell her that she had no business instructing him about what he should or should not do.
The problem was that she had no actual experience dealing with the nobility. Despite her mother’s endless lectures on the proper way to behave in polite society, she’d had very few opportunities to put those lessons to the test.
On the other hand, it was his daughter causing all the trouble, not Helen—whom he still thought was her daughter. Eventually she would have to disabuse him of that notion.
In the main section of the stable they found no evidence of the children. While he checked the several stalls and the tack room, Phoebe scurried up the ladder to the hayloft. Again she found no children, but there were signs of Izzy’s presence in the past. An empty cup. A sheet. A doll and a doll bed.
“Look at this,” she called down to Lord Farley.
In a moment he was beside her in the dusty, low-ceilinged portion of the loft. He picked up the doll with her cracked face and faded gingham dress. “If I remember correctly this is one of Sarah’s dolls.”
“Sarah?”
“My youngest sister.”
Phoebe recalled from Mrs. Leake’s remarks that Lord Farley had two sisters. Half-sisters. Just as Izzy had a half sister in Leya, and other half siblings through her mother in London.
“Poor Izzy,” she said, taking the nearly hairless doll from him. “She must be very lonely. I’m guessing she misses her family, even if they aren’t ideal. You know, I’m beginning to think she’s trying to create something of her own here, a family she can feel safe with.” She looked up at him. “That could be why she took this doll, and it’s probably why she tried
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