Izzy shrugged. “Because my father didn’t marry my mother.”
“No, he married my mother. But that’s not your fault.”
“Doesn’t matter now, and I don’t care what they say.” She grinned at Clarissa, an elfin smile full of mischief. “I’ve always wanted a sister, too. And I like you.”
“Good. I like you, too, so from now on you’re going to live with me, and we will be sisters together and play as much as we want.” Clarissa couldn’t keep the smile from her face. She darted forward and hugged Izzy. “Now, here’s the key to the gate. Lock it when I leave so nobody can get in even if they want to. I’ll come for you as soon as I can. I shan’t be long.”
She returned to the house and found servants busily scurrying thither and yon, and her father standing in the hallway bellowing orders.
Nanny pounced on her. “Where have you been, child? I’ve been beside myself wondering where you were. Bad enough that one child has gone miss—” She broke off. “Butnever mind about that, come away upstairs. There’s a nice glass of milk and some of Cook’s best shortbread waiting for you.”
Clarissa didn’t move. “Who’s gone missing, Nanny?”
“Oh, nobody, no one of any account. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding and that fellow took the child away with him after all.”
“What child?”
“There is no child,” Papa snapped from the hallway. “It’s all a lot of nonsense. I’ve had enough of it. I’m off.” He snapped his fingers, and a footman ran out the front door and whistled a signal to the grooms.
Clarissa heard her father say to the estate manager, Mr. Edwards, “Find the brat and deal with her.”
“What should I do with her, sir?”
“I neither know nor care.” The carriage arrived, the luggage was swiftly loaded and a few minutes later Papa was driving away. Without even saying goodbye to Clarissa.
He rarely did. She was a disappointment to Papa; she’d always known it. He’d told her to her face, more than once. She was plain and unattractive. She was dull like her mother. She was no use to anyone. And she should have been a boy.
But it didn’t hurt so much now, because now she had a sister. And she wouldn’t ever be lonely again.
She went upstairs with Nanny, drank her milk, ate a piece of shortbread, slipped the rest into her pocket and added an apple. Then, telling Nanny she’d left her book in the garden and would be back in a minute, she ran downstairs and took the food to Izzy.
Izzy ate hungrily, and when she had finished, Clarissa smuggled her upstairs via the servants’ stairs. She settled her in the nursery bedchamber with a couple of books and some more shortbread. Nanny, who was in her sitting room knitting by the window, didn’t notice a thing.
It wasn’t until evening, after Clarissa had eaten her supper—slipping half of it into a napkin for Izzy—and gone to bed that the deception was discovered. Nanny came to check she was sleeping and found curled up in the bed two little girls, instead of one.
She gave an almighty shriek, and within minutes several servants were crowded into the bedchamber, exclaiming and speculating.
Nanny, recovering from her shock, said firmly to Izzy, “Now come away, child. You don’t belong here.”
But the two girls clung to each other, and when Nanny reached for Izzy’s hand, Clarissa flung her arms around her sister, and shouted, “Don’t touch her! She’s my sister and I’m keeping her!”
Nanny and the other servants stopped, shocked—Clarissa never shouted—and eyed one another cautiously.
And when a footman went to grab Izzy, intending to drag her away by force, the two girls fought and scratched like furious little cats, and Clarissa proved she could outshriek Nanny any day.
The footman retreated. Nanny and the other servants tried to reason with her, but Clarissa dug her heels in and refused to give up her sister, repeating, “Izzy is my sister and I’m keeping her!”
Finally the estate manager was summoned to deal with the problem. Nanny turned to him. “What shall I do, Mr. Edwards? Miss Clarissa will make herself sick if she keeps carrying on in this fashion.”
Everyone waited for him to speak.
Mr. Edwards looked at Clarissa, tearstained and desperate, clutching her white-faced sister to her. He eyed Izzy thoughtfully, and said, “That child is the master’s get and no mistake.”
“Yes, but what do we do?” Nanny repeated.
There was a long silence, then Mr. Edwards spoke. “He did say he didn’t care what I did with her.”
“But what does that mean?” Nanny wailed. “We must do something.”
