11. Chapter Eleven

The next morning, Kiernan was happy to spend time playing with Artie and Ellie in the garden behind the house, their nurses looking on from a suitable distance. The children were not being raised as most children of high-class families would have been. They were allowed to play and romp and get dirty. It had been interesting to learn from the boys he met at school about how differently they were raised. He was glad that neither the Darcy nor the Bingley families believed that children should be kept indoors and trained up to be little porcelain copies of their fathers and mothers without a thought to themselves.

"Look, K'nan!" Artie waved at his older friend in gleeful ignorance of the mud flinging off his hands as he did so. "Mud House!"

Kiernan approached the two children carefully. With the discovery of a muddy patch between two rosebushes, the cousins had promptly attempted an endeavor to build some form of structure with the sticky, clumpy substance. Mud clung to both their hands and up their arms, while some had even made its way on to Artie's face. "Don't you two look like you are having fun! Are you building a house?"

Nodding gleefully, Artie answered, "Yes, mud house."

"Mud house, I stand corrected." Grinning ruefully at the pair, he knew that they would both be in for a bath later, but for the moment he wouldn't worry. He was glad they were enjoying themselves. "Who is going to live in your mud house?"

While Ellie, who was still not very talkative at all, played by patting the substance into a form that she liked, Artie seemed to ponder the question. Tilting his head, his mud-smudged face lit up with glee as he said, "Crumb House."

Laughing out loud, Kiernan smiled. He could see the cunning in Artie's eyes. The lad was making a joke. "You expect that great big horse to fit in there? I think you have some proportion problems if you think he is going to fit."

"Not Crumb, little Crumb." Gesturing with his muddy hands, Artie implied a small toy size horse. Then pointing to Kiernan, he said, "You make little Crumb."

"You want me to make you something to be Crumpet?"

"Yes, little Crumb. I make house. Ellie help." With the attitude of a much older person issuing orders, Artie dismissed Kiernan to apparently make a toy horse to go with their mud house. Ellie, clearly happy to be playing and helping her older cousin, looked up and smiled at Kiernan. She babbled a few indecipherable phrases before once again concentrating on squelching the gooey substance through her fingers.

Standing up from his squat next to them, Kiernan cast about, looking for a few sticks or something with which he could build a small horse. There had to be something he could use.

Evaline was not happy. Not happy in the least. She would have kicked at a pebble to vent her frustration, but she knew it was not a ladylike endeavor. So she refrained from kicking anything, though that did not help her feel better, only angrier.

Ignored for the majority of her life, Evaline had recently had her loving nurse taken away, only to be replaced by a strict and overbearing governess who found nothing she did satisfactory. All she heard now was, "Young ladies do not do this, young ladies do not do that." For the life of her, she could not fathom what young ladies might actually do besides die of boredom and frustration.

She had jumped at the chance to accompany her brother to Netherfield, not because she wished to see the ladies of the house, but because she just had to get away from her governess. Any more of her strict control and Evaline might just scream. Or not—who knows what punishment that kind of behavior might merit? Only that morning, her governess had threatened to make her walk with the book on her head again for slouching as she read. When her brother had asked her to join him, she had been eager to escape for a time.

While her brother spoke with the fancy Mr. Darcy, she decided to explore a little. The moment she stepped outside, she felt a surge of liberation and fully embraced the idea of newfound freedom. She had told Gabriel that she would speak with the Bennet sisters, and she might…eventually. Who knew? Perhaps they were outside. Her mother had never been shy about her disapproval of the now Mrs. Darcy, always complaining that Mrs. Darcy had grown up to be a hoyden, often traipsing around and getting dirty.

Coming around a bend in the path as she walked through the garden, she spotted two young children playing in the mud. Upon closer inspection, she realized they were not even children but babies. Who let their babies alone long enough to play in the mud? Looking around, she tried to see if there was a nurse or someone about that should have been taking the children in hand. She certainly would never have been allowed to play that way.

Spotting no one but an older boy who was looking the other way, Evaline gave a little huff. Just what should she do? Her thought process stopped when she saw the smaller of the two babies get up and toddle towards her.

The little child was coated in mud and, though she had the most angelic smile, Evaline shook her head in revulsion. A string of baby jabber did not warm Evaline up to the small thing either. As the youngest child of her family, who had never been exposed to young children, she was completely out of sorts with the situation. When the little girl tried to hand her a blob of mud, it was simply the last straw. Shoving the small figure away with more force than was strictly required, Evaline was appalled to watch her tumble backwards into a rosebush.

Though not screaming or sobbing, the small face with shockingly blue eyes looked at her with such hurt and confusion that Evaline was cut to the quick. When tears welled up and fell down her mud-streaked cheeks, it made Evaline want to cry herself. Evaline was trying to decide what she could or should do when a small tornado of fury popped out of nowhere and made her wish she had never agreed to come to Netherfield.

"No. No! Bad you not hurt Ellie! No!" Artie stood his ground in front of his crying cousin. Arms outstretched, he blocked the stranger from causing her more harm. He did not understand why someone would hurt his little Ellie, but he was going to stop it if he could. Though looking at the bigger girl, he realized it would not be easy to stop her if she tried again. Looking around frantically, he screamed, "K'Nan!" Then looking at the girl again, he scolded, "No hurt Ellie!"

Rushing to Artie as he heard the tyke shout, Kiernan tried to take in the situation with a swift glance. Poor little Ellie was in a rosebush, big tears silently running down her cheeks. Artie's chubby face was red with anger and a girl he did not recognize looked as though she was appalled by the entire situation. He looked askance at the girl as he passed her to scoop up little Ellie.

Artie looked up at Kiernan. His little face was as fierce as an almost two-year-old could be. He pointed at the intruder, his finger shaking, and explained, "K'nan! Bad girl hurt Ellie."

"I can see that, little man. Thank you for trying to protect her." Looking over, he saw the nurses rushing their way. He rubbed Ellie's back, trying to soothe her as she burrowed into his chest looking for comfort.

Though the stranger did seem to look at Ellie with concern, any possibility of such emotion was ruined by her words. "I do not know who you are, but the child fell all on her own." With her nose in the air, the unknown girl flipped her brown hair over her shoulder.

Ellie peeked out at the girl from under her muddy strawberry locks. Her lower lip trembled momentarily before she offered one of the few words she knew. "No."

"Bad girl lies, K'nan. Lies bad!" Artie shook his finger at her again, then looked up at Kiernan with a thoughtful look that suggested his young mind was busy plotting something mischievous. "I kick her maybe?"

Gently placing a restraining hand on Artie's small shoulder, Kiernan forced himself not to laugh at the lad's vengeful intentions. "No, Arthur Theodore, you will not kick her. No matter what she may have done, you are a gentleman, and gentlemen do not ever hurt ladies or girls, no matter how unmannerly they behave." Handing Ellie to her worried nurse, he returned his attention to the stranger.

Eyes growing round under his scrutiny, the girl glanced around nervously. "I do not know who these filthy children are, but I will have you know that I am the daughter of one of the most prominent landowners in the area. Who do you think people will believe—me or these two filthy brats?"

Kiernan's eyes narrowed at the girl's words. Leaning down, he scooped up Artie before the tyke did something rash. "Why don't we go inside so that you may meet the parents of ‘these filthy children' and we can see whom they believe?" Without waiting for a response, he marched toward the house, and knowing that Mr. Darcy would be in his study, Kiernan made his way there directly.

***

Mary sat in her sitting room with a book in her lap. She was trying to read one of her old favorites, but she could not find the concentration to focus on any of the words on the page. The sea of fuzzy words did nothing to settle her thoughts or her unease.

More so than her other sisters, she was always one for following the rules. Showing respect for the proper way of things meant something to her. She had a sort of need, or maybe compulsion for the order that it provided. But now this need for order was causing her a problem. Rules of society dictated that a woman never approached the gentleman about their attachment. Instead, they waited for him to make the first move. Mary had been waiting, and waiting, and she felt she had been more than patient, yet she had nothing to show for it.

Could she possibly approach Mr. Goulding and let him know how she felt about the matter? Ever since she spoke with Jane, the unusual thought did not seem so implausible anymore. However, it did bring up another issue—how did she feel about the possibility of ending their friendship? Mary had often shied away from looking the issue in the face, as it made her too sad. Mary forced herself to examine her emotions and admit that yes, she loved Mr. Goulding. She wanted to have a future with him. She wanted to find a way to make it work, but was continuing to wait around for him to make a move, any move, something she was willing to do?

Mary focused on what she wanted. She wanted a life with the man she loved. She wanted a chance to have children. Mary was not stupid. She knew he could not offer her the estates and fancy things that her sister's husbands had at their disposal, but to her, none of that mattered. She was not fond of London or society at large. Mary liked helping people. She would love the opportunity to teach children wherever they were.

Could she wait for him on whatever his timetable was? Did she deserve to have to wait? If she confronted Mr. Goulding, what would she say? Though Jane had said she was strong, Mary was uncertain if that strength meant she had the audacity needed to disregard societal expectations. Or did it? Could she demand he propose to her, or was it beyond what she was capable of? If he decided that he did not want a life with her, what did she want to do?

Now that was a question. If she could not have Mr. Goulding and his love, she did not think she could just marry someone else. She was incapable of marrying one man while loving another. It was in her mind a betrayal to herself as well as whoever she married. No, if she did not marry Mr. Goulding, she would ask to manage Longbourn. She had joked about it before with her sisters, but she was uncertain if they ever realized that she had been half serious.

Jane was right about her strength and if forced, she would have the fortitude to do what she must to find her way to happiness. She would not allow Gabriel's stubborn refusal to act to curtail her joy any longer. She began to formulate a plan in small stages. It would not be easy, but it was necessary. She would need a tremendous amount of courage, but she felt that it was going to be her best chance at happiness.