amazed at what the little ones can sleep through. It must have been frightful out there alone in this weather,” she added, and Ian saw her severe features soften a bit. “How old do you think she is, Maggie?”

“I’d guess she’s near two years,” Madam Dimbleby said as she picked up the pot of tea and poured the steaming amber liquid into a cup.

“She’s small for two,” Madam Scargill replied.

“Yes, but her teeth are well formed, and those eyes were quick to follow my chatter until she fell asleep. I believe she’s between twenty-one months and two years. She’s also got an interesting birthmark on her left shoulder,” said Madam Dimbleby. “It almost looks like an eye.”

“You don’t say?” said Madam Scargill, and Ian saw her pulling gently at the neckline of the toddler’s nightgown. “Ah, I see it,” she said. “Yes, that’s quite unusual.”

“The girl appears to be in good health,” said Madam Dimbleby, sipping her tea. “She’s well fed and seems to have been well taken care of.”

“We’ll have to name her,” Madam Scargill remarked as she sat down with the child in the rocker.

Ian pushed closer to the crack, wanting to get a look at the new child.

“I think we should leave that up to Master Wigby,” replied Madam Dimbleby calmly, setting her cup back on its saucer in her hand. “After all, he’s been intent on watching every bit of her arrival.”

Ian’s eyes bulged in alarm and he jumped back flat against the wall, his heart racing as he thought about fleeing down the hallway back to his room.

Madam Dimbleby chuckled. “Won’t you join us in the nursery, Master Wigby?”

Ian gulped and took a deep breath. There was no getting out of it now. With his head hanging low, he pushed the door of the room fully open. “Hello,” he mumbled. “The man at the door woke me with all that pounding.”

Madam Dimbleby sipped her tea again, a smile at the edges of her lips. “I suspect the storm had you up even before that,” she quipped. “Now come in and say hello to our newest family member.”

Ian walked forward with leaden feet, knowing that the headmistress might be kind to him at the moment but children caught breaking rules were seldom left unpunished. And the rules of the keep were strict. They had to be, with so many orphans running about.

One of the central rules was that children were not to be out of their rooms past bedtime. He’d probably lose his breakfast over this, which was awful, because Ian dearly loved his breakfast. “She’s very pretty,” he said as he stood before Madam Scargill, who did not seem nearly as amused by his presence as Madam Dimbleby.

“You are aware that children are not to be out of bed past their curfew?” Madam Scargill sniffed.

“He’s aware, Gertrude,” Madam Dimbleby said with a sigh. “But I expect you’ll want him punished for his curiosity.”

“Rules are rules, Maggie,” her cousin said haughtily. “Without them, all we’ve got is anarchy.”

“Oh, very well,” Madam Dimbleby said. “But I shall be the one to administer the punishment.” Setting down her teacup and saucer on a nearby table, she turned to Ian and said, “Your punishment shall have two parts: First, you must name this child, and think of a name that you like, Ian, because you’ll be using it quite a bit from now on. And the reason you’ll need to choose wisely is that the second part will be to entrust the care of this little girl to you. She will be yours to watch over as if she were your own flesh and blood, your own baby sister.”

Ian gulped again. Older children were often entrusted with the care of the younger ones. It helped establish a sense of family for the lonely orphans, and it also helped the two headmistresses keep order in a large keep full of children.

But orphans as young as Ian were never given ward of other children. Usually the responsibility fell to those no younger than seven. Madam Scargill complained, “He’s too young, Maggie.”

But Madam Dimbleby was not to be dissuaded. “He’s always been mature for his age, Gertrude. He’ll be fine.”

Ian looked at the toddler in Madam Scargill’s arms. She was petite and seemed fragile. Her hair was blond, like his own, and though her eyes were closed, he suspected they’d also be light in color. Her face was oval, her cheeks were round, and her nose was a perfect little nub in