still at the hall when she returned, she would try to see him privately and broach the matter with him. Not for the first time she wondered how he was faring with Lord Hobart.
‘Miss.’ She felt someone tug at her skirts and looked down to see Danny White looking up at her, anxiety writ large on his face. ‘Meg wants to go home. She’s got the bellyache.’
She looked at the lad’s tiny sister, only a toddler, certainly not old enough for school, but if she had not been allowed to come neither would Danny and he was a bright child and deserved whatever education she could give him. Soon he would be able to join the select few who took more advanced lessons from the Rector himself. Meg was holding her stomach and crying. Charlotte scooped her up in her arms to comfort her. Her forehead was hot and she was obviously in some pain. What should she do? She could not let the child go home alone, not even if she sent Danny with her, and she was reluctant to leave her class when the Reverend was absent.
There was nothing for it but to take them all. ‘Enough of lessons,’ she said, suddenly making up her mind. ‘We’ll all take Meg home, shall we?’
The idea was greeted with enthusiasm and, having left a message with the Reverend Fuller’s wife, they set off, headed by Charlotte carrying Meg, Danny beside her and Lizzie and Fanny following with the others in a double file.
The strange crocodile was greeted by smiles from the village women they met, all of whom knew the good work Charlotte did, not only for the children, but the old and infirm. She brought food and clothes, but, more than that, she brought hope. ‘Mornin’, me lady,’ they called. Charlotte returned their greeting and went on her way, with the children singing ‘One man went to mow’ behind her.
The children waited outside while she took Meg into Dr Cartwright’s to ask him to check on her, fully accepting that the account for his services would be remitted to her, for the poor child’s parents could not pay. He felt all over her stomach. ‘What have you been eating?’ he asked her.
‘Nuffin’.’
‘Yes, you have. You’ve been stuffing yourself with something bad, haven’t you?’
‘It were beans,’ Danny put in. Charlotte had not realised he had followed them in. ‘I told her she shouldn’t have.’
‘Beans, what beans?’
‘In the bag in Farmer Brown’s barn.’
‘Seeds,’ the doctor said. ‘Not meant to be eaten. They are for setting in the ground. You’re old enough to know that, Danny, aren’t you?’
‘Course I am. Weren’t my fault. She’d downed a handful afore I saw what her were adoin’.’
‘I thought you were supposed to be looking out for her?’ the doctor demanded waspishly.
Danny looked as though he were about to burst into tears.
‘Don’t blame him, Doctor,’ Charlotte said. ‘You can’t watch children every minute of the day and he’s only a babe himself. Tell me, how serious is it?’
‘Not serious. I’ll give her a dose to help it on its way. She’ll be as right as rain tomorrow.’
Relieved, Charlotte watched while he held the child’s nose and forced a spoonful of foul-tasting medicine down her throat, then they rejoined the other children and were soon at the door of the cottage where Danny and Meg lived. It was no more than a hovel; the pigs up at the hall lived in better conditions, and they even smelled sweeter, but Charlotte pretended not to notice as she explained to Mrs White why she had brought her children home.
‘I’m sorry you’ve been troubled,’ the woman said, taking the child from Charlotte’s arms. Then, to Danny, ‘See what you’ve done, you great lump. That’s what all that book learnin’ does for ye, makes ye forget what ye’re supposed to be adoin’. Yar pa will dust yar breeks when he come home.’
Charlotte was forced to be mediator; she didn’t want Danny forbidden to come to lessons again. Having soothed ruffled feelings, she returned to the remainder of her flock. It was then she saw the stranger again, standing outside the smithy, watching her with the same look of amusement that had so disconcerted her two days before.
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