What a Spinster Wants - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,65

and her yellow frock from a bunch of brambles on the other side. She was so determined that she was ripping a hole in the garment.

Edith hurried forward. “Here, lass, let me help you.”

The girl jumped as if she had not known anyone was there, her striking blue eyes widening sharply.

Edith smiled at her kindly. “It’s all right. I just want to help you out of there. My name is Edith. What is your name?”

“Molly,” she replied after a moment, still looking at her warily. Then, she rolled her eyes and dipped into a light curtsey among the brambles and thorns. “Lady Molly Hastings, if you please, ma’am.”

There was nothing to do but grin at her attempt at manners, and Edith responded in kind. “Lady Edith Leveson, at your service, Lady Molly. Now, might I help you?”

“Yes, please,” she said heavily, forgoing any sort of nerves or shyness. “I’m making a mess of my dress.”

“Yes, well, that can happen,” Edith conceded as she worked to disentangle the girl. “Particularly with brambles. What were you doing?”

Molly wrinkled her nose up and pushed some of her dark hair out of her face. “I was so bored and so hungry, I thought I could sneak out and get some berries before anybody discovered I was gone.” She frowned and shook her head. “I got stuck picking some of the berries up high.”

Edith gave the girl a bemused look, though it likely should have been more disapproving, as she helped her step out of the bushes. “You snuck out of your house? I can understand the desire to on such a day as this, but I’m afraid, my dear Lady Molly, sneaking just isna done.”

“I know,” she admitted with a sigh too heavy for a child, “and you can call me Molly. I don’t like being called ‘lady’. I much prefer to be a child.” She sighed again and shuffled her feet. “Gray is always telling me to behave like a lady, and I try. But I was so bored…”

It was said with such longing, Edith had to smile. The memory of childhood was faint, but the same enthusiasm and liveliness was still clear as the day itself.

“That can happen, I fear. How old are you, Molly? If ye dinna mind me asking.”

“Almost seven,” she said proudly, “but I am very smart for my age.”

“Aye, I can see that,” Edith murmured, pulling some small leaves and twigs from her curly locks. They had no doubt looked pretty enough before, but with her running around, they now looked an untidy mess.

It suited her well, though no doubt her parents wouldn’t agree.

Then, her name echoed in Edith’s mind again, and her eyes widened. “Did ye say your name was Lady Molly Hastings?”

Molly gave her a disparaging look. “Yes, Edith, I did.” Then she looked down at her dress, and her expression paled considerably. “Oh, no. My dress! There is a hole in my dress. Oh, I am going to be in so much trouble.” She put her hands over her face and whimpered with what seemed to be real distress, more so than even when she had been stuck.

“It isna so bad, Molly,” Edith told her as she looked at it. The hole was hardly gaping, though it was rather front and center. Noticeable, yes, but hardly disastrous.

Again, Molly favored Edith with a look, one that would have terrified anyone of her age. “You don’t know Gray.”

“That bad?” Edith asked, thinking she had a fair idea of who Gray might be, but fearing to inquire.

“Worse,” the girl moaned dramatically.

“Well,” Edith said, biting back a smile, “then I suppose there is just one thing to be done.” Keeping her eyes on Molly, she took hold of her own skirts and began to tear the fabric in exactly the same place.

Molly stared at it, and Edith, with wide eyes.

“Edith, what did you do?” she breathed.

Edith shrugged, fighting the desire to laugh wildly.

“It’s only a dress, Molly. We can mend them.”

“Do you want to pick some more berries with me?” Molly asked, beaming. “Then, I promise I’ll go straight back home.”

Edith laughed and agreed, stepping forward to pick a few berries, and eating quite a few of them as she went.

Wild blackberries had never been part of Edith’s childhood experience, but they added perfectly to her present circumstances. Molly talked her through the process of finding perfect ones, and her knowledge of it all was really quite impressive, considering her age.

When they had finished, Edith took Molly’s hand. “Come