Free The Wolves of Willoughby Chase by Joan Aiken

saved Conchita, her favourite, and an ivory paintbox as big as a tea-tray, and the skates, and some of the beautiful clothes from the dolls’ house, while Sylvia mournfully sorted out the most interesting-looking and beautifully illustrated books from a large bookcase.
    ‘Oh, and I must keep my little writing-desk, James, for I mean to write to Papa this very day and tell him how wicked Miss Slighcarp is. Then he’ll soon come home.’
    ‘I’ll put the desk in the attic for you, miss,’ promised James, ‘but it’s no use writing to your papa. Rather write to Mr Gripe.’
    ‘Why, James?’
    ‘Why, your papa’s at sea now. His ship won’t reach a port for three months.’
    ‘Oh dear — nor it will,’ said Bonnie sadly, ‘and I don’t know Mr Gripe’s direction in London. What shall I do? For we can’t,
can’t
endure this dreadfulness for three months – and then it would be another three months before Papa could come home, even supposing Mamma was well again.’
    Just then they heard Miss Slighcarp’s step approaching once more, and her voice calling, ‘James, come here. I need your help to move a heavy deed-box.’
    ‘I must go, miss,’ whispered James hurriedly. ‘Don’t let yourself be seen. I’ll bring your luncheon up by and by.’
    He hastened from the room.
    The day passed unhappily. As Bonnie was supposed to be shut in the cupboard, she could not leave the schoolroom for fear of meeting Miss Slighcarp, and Sylvia would go nowhere without her. They tried various occupations, reading, sewing, drawing, but had not the heart to pursue them for long. At noon they heard Miss Slighcarp’s voice in the passage outside. Bonnie whisked behind the curtain, but the governess did not come in. She was speaking to James again.
    ‘Is that the young ladies’ luncheon?’
    ‘This is the bread-and-water for Miss Green, ma’am,’ he answered respectfully. ‘I’ll fetch Miss Sylvia’s tray when I’ve taken this in.’
    ‘She’s not to come out of the cupboard to eat it, mind.’
    ‘No, ma’am.’
    He appeared, grinning broadly, plonked a dry-looking loaf and a jug of water on the table, and then whispered, ‘Don’t touch it, Miss Bonnie. Just as soon as the old cat’s out of the way I’ll bring something better!’ And, sure enough, ten minutes later, he returned carrying a tray covered with a cloth which, when taken off, revealed two dear little roast partridges with bread sauce, red-currant jelly, and vegetables.
    ‘You’ll not starve while I’m here to see after you,’ he whispered.
    The children ate hungrily, and later James came back with a dish of trifle and took away the meat dishes, carefully covering them again with the cloth before venturing into the corridor.
    ‘I wish I knew where the secret passage came out,’ he murmured. ‘Porson, the old steward, always used to say there was a sliding panel in this room and a passage that led down to the dairy. With that she-dragon on the prowl it would be rare and useful to have a secret way into here. You might have a bit of a search for it, Miss Bonnie.’
    ‘We’ll begin at once!’ exclaimed Bonnie. ‘It will be something to pass the time.’
    The moment James had taken away the pudding-plates they began testing the walls for hidden springs.
    ‘You start by the door, Sylvia, and I’ll begin at the fireplace, and we’ll each do two sides of the room,’ Bonnie suggested.
    It was a big room, its walls covered in white linenfold panelling, decorated with carved garlands of roses painted blue. The children carefully pushed, pulled, and pressed each wooden rose, without result. An hour, two hours went by, and they were becoming disheartened and beginning to feel that the story of the secret passage must have been merely an idle tale, when Sylvia suggested:
    ‘We haven’t tried the fireplace, Bonnie. Do you suppose it possible that part of the mantlepiece should be false?’
    ‘Clever girl!’ said Bonnie, giving her a hug. ‘Let