The Heart's Companion - By Holly Newman Page 0,19

basket at their side was open, and a steady army of ants marched in and out, wending their way across the blanket and grass to their nest among the roots of the old tree. There was no sign of Bertram.

Jane stared at the bucolic scene for a moment in bemused appreciation then gently nudged Nurse Twinkleham.

"Twink—Twink, wake up!" she urged the woman.

Edward stirred at the sound of her voice and raised a grubby fist to knuckle his eyes. "Aunt Jane?"

"Yes, love. Did you have a nice nap?" Jane asked, amusement coloring her tone.

He sat up. "I wasn’t sleeping," he contradicted indignantly. "I was keeping Nurse Twink company."

"Of course, dear," soothed Lady Elsbeth. She exchanged amused glances with Jane.

"What? What’s that?" demanded Nurse Twinkleham, struggling out of deep sleep. Her thin lips twitched and her eyes blinked against the light.

"Twink, are you all right?" Jane asked.

Nurse Twinkleham’s faded blue eyes opened wide and bright pink stained her lined cheeks. She rolled awkwardly to her knees, then struggled to her feet. "Oh! Miss Jane! Lady Elsbeth! I can’t imagine— That you should find me— Oh dear, oh me! Sleeping!"

Jane laughed and laid a reassuring hand on her old nurse’s arm. "I do not blame you at all. It is a beautiful day. Perfect for a nap in the fresh air. But where is Bertram?"

"I hope you do not think it was wrong of me, but I gave him permission to go on up to the Folly. "

"Of course not," assured Lady Elsbeth. "He is old enough for some freedom. I daresay both the boys are." She turned to look up the hill toward the miniature Grecian temple. "Do you see him, Jane? I swear my eyes are not as good as they might be."

"No, but he could have fallen asleep up there, and we wouldn’t see him behind the railing. I’ll go up and get him. Want to come with me, Edward?" she invited, holding out her hand to her youngest nephew.

Edward took her hand eagerly and they set off with a sprightly step, swinging their arms.

"I don’t see him, Aunt Jane," Edward said when they were halfway there. "And I don’t think he’s asleep. Bertram never naps," he added seriously.

Jane lightly bit her lower lip. "I don’t see him, either. Where do you suppose he could be?"

Edward shrugged, his thin shoulders rising up to his ears.

"Well, we’ll check carefully, anyway," said Jane.

But Bertram was not to be found.

Jane and Edward fruitlessly searched the area around the little Grecian temple. There was evidence that Bertram had been there: smudge marks on the telescope’s brass fittings and crumbs in a linen napkin attesting to the remainder of his picnic fare. A growing sense of uneasiness curled within Jane.

"Come, let’s get back to Aunt Elsbeth and Twink. They’ll be wondering what’s keeping us," she said as levelly as possible. She stooped to pick up the discarded napkin.

"He probably went off like the earl did," Edward suggested with miniature adult worldliness.

"What do you mean?"

"You know. When he went climbing by hisself and broke his arm. Bertram probably went off to do the same to show he’s smarter and stronger and that he won’t break his arm. "

"Oh dear, do you really think so?"

"Sure. He’s always trying to prove somethin’."

"We’d best send the grooms out looking for him. Come on," she said, turning to run lightly down the gently sloping hillside.

Edward enthusiastically followed her, and soon both were running heedlessly down the hill. A small hillock caught Jane unaware, interrupting her stride and pitching her forward. Her arms waved wildly, her skirts entangled her legs and she fell, tumbling down the grassy incline. Below her came twin screams from Lady Elsbeth and Nurse Twinkleham. From above Edward screeched her name. Jane hardly heard them as she concentrated on stopping her forward momentum. Each roll and thud, as another portion of her anatomy struck the ground, sounded loudly in her ears. Finally she swung her legs forward and her wild rolling slowed. She came to rest on her back, her skirts foaming about her. She stared up at the clouds in the sky as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Aunt Jane! Aunt Jane!" cried Edward, his little piping voice higher than usual. He was the first to reach her, throwing pieces of grass and dirt across her as he skidded to a stop by her side.

Her left arm rose slowly, bonelessly, to touch his cheek. She smiled. "I’m all right. Merely winded."

"Jane! Are you all right? Edward,