She did not wish to examine today.
If she was invigorated, it was only the result of physical labor and the sweet countryside air. Which was quite ordinary. After all, had she not been injured and bedridden endless days in a row? Then kept inside, like a fragile figurine, lest anyone attack?
Finding her wrapper, she shrugged it on and left her bedchamber. She navigated to Violet’s door and gave a light tap.
“Who is it?” Jenny’s sleepy voice.
“Miss Foxcroft.”
Seconds later, the door opened to Jenny’s tousled hair and watery eyes. “Oh, miss, you quite frightened me.” From slumber, it seemed. “Come in.”
“You may retire. I shall stay with the child.”
“But his lordship—”
“Shall not mind, I assure you.”
Jenny looked as if she might argue further, but the thought of rest must have been too overpowering. She nodded and ambled from the room.
“She snores, and I hate it.” Violet sat cross-legged on top of her coverlets, a doll on each side of her and a book in her lap. She appeared stronger, and though her cheeks lacked much color, her little bow-shaped lips were more pink than blue. “Did Father send you to read to me?”
“No.” Meg sat on the edge of the bed. “In truth, I was quite forbidden to attend dinner, so I thought I might seek out company with you.”
Violet grinned at this. “What did you do?”
“It is too terrible to tell.”
“Tell me!”
Meg laughed and scooted closer. She whispered her naughtiness of boy’s trousers and red paint into Violet’s ear, and the girl threw back her head with a cackle.
“I bet Father glowered.”
Glowered?Meg almost laughed. “That is a big word for such a small child.”
“I read a lot.” Violet nodded to her book. “I have already read this one fourteen times.The History of Little Goody Two-Shoes.” She flipped to the next page. “I love Margery.”
“Shall I read to you?”
Violet nodded, and after they’d situated themselves against pillows and Violet had pulled both dolls into her arms, Meg began. She read in tones that were hushed and animated. Though she found little delight in the story itself, Violet’s swift corrections to Meg’s mispronunciations had both of them giggling.
When the book was finished, Violet sighed and yawned. “Miss Foxcroft?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you read a little longer?”
“You must sleep now.”
“I hate sleeping.”
“Come now. It shan’t be as terrible as all that.” Meg slid off the bed, tugged loose the coverlets, and helped Violet under them. “Do you wish to sleep with your dolls?”
“No. I am not a baby.”
“Oh. But of course.” Meg removed the toys to their own doll-sized beds on the floor. “Better?”
“Will you stay?”
