Free Steam & Sorcery by Cindy Spencer Pape Page B

so he shall do his share of the punishment, though his version of a letter may certainly differ from those of the rest of you,” Caroline acknowledged. “Perhaps one of the recipients would appreciate a drawing, with the word sorry, which he can copy. Shall we adjourn to the schoolroom? Who can show me where the paper, pens and ink are located?”
    Tommy lifted his hand. “I can, miss. And I’ll write to Miss Hadrian.”
    “I threw the pea at Mary,” Piers said glumly. “I should apologize to her.”
    “Excellent choice, Piers,” Caroline said.
    “Cook likes pictures,” Jamie noted. “Gots one in the kitchen she said was from her grandson.”
    “Very well. Wink and Nell, that leaves Johnson and Sally.” Caroline stood. “Now come along.”
    They all obediently followed her into the other room. Tommy showed her the cabinet containing writing supplies, and she removed six slates and chalk, along with pens, pencils and paper. She distributed the slate and chalks first. On the sixth, she wrote, “I’m sorry for wasting food,” and handed it to Jamie. “Practice copying those words,” she told him, then to the rest, “I want to see your letters written out on the slates, so we can make corrections before you commit them to paper and ink.” She had no intention of making this too easy for them.
    As they worked, Caroline patrolled the outside of the table, pointing out errors in spelling or wording, as well as suggesting possible additions to the letters. Eventually she handed Jamie a piece of foolscap and some colored pencils, watching as he carefully wrote his five words at the top and his name at the bottom, then began to draw.
    She filled inkwells and distributed paper to the older children once their longer, more detailed apologies had been approved, based on age and skill. Piers’s to Mary was brief and to the point, but Caroline was satisfied that it was heartfelt and hoped the maid wouldn’t end up resigning over the contretemps. Finally, Caroline helped them fold the letters and seal them with small globs of candle wax. Just as they finished, Sally carried in the tray of bread, butter and tea which the children all regarded hopefully.
    Shyly, Nell handed Sally her letter as Caroline had instructed. “We’re sorry. We’ll try not to do it again.”
    The young woman quickly hid a grin. “All right then. Reckon things happen, sometimes.” Caroline made a mental note to ask if that particular maid could be assigned to the nursery full-time.
    “The rest of you will deliver your letters in the morning,” Caroline said. “Now, while we have our snack, I’d like to begin a habit of reading aloud in the evenings. I’ll start off, then perhaps we can eventually take turns. I see a shelf of books over against the far wall. Jamie, do you have a favorite story?”
    “Hansel and Gretel, miss. My mum used to tell me that one.”
    “And is there a copy of that over there?”
    Piers nodded. “I’ll get it.” He hurried over to the shelf and returned with a book of faery tales. “It’s in here.”
    “Thank you, Piers.” Caroline found the place and waited until Piers took his seat before she began to read.
     
     
    Things had been quiet upstairs for over an hour, which was worrisome. God knew what those little demons were up to. He’d managed to talk the maid out of quitting, but it had been a close thing. Now, Merrick had planned to leave for his club, but on his way upstairs to change, he couldn’t resist a side trip to the nursery, which, thank God, was in the opposite wing from his bedroom.
    He padded down the hallway and spotted the new governess bending over one of the twin beds in the younger boys’ room. To Merrick’s surprise, both boys were clean and quiet in their beds—and not tied in place, which made their stillness even more suspect.
    “Does it hurt very badly?”
    “Not much, miss,” Jamie replied with a grin and a yawn.
    “Well, good. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.”