A Heart in Jeopardy Read Free

eyes watered with the effort. Then she heard the scraping sound of a key in a lock, and the door swung open with a grating squeal.
    Leona watched dark skirts swish across the room toward the bed. The skirts stopped not three feet from her face. She could have reached out and touched them. The figure stood silently for a long moment. Leona felt the resurgence of tickling in her nose and pressed harder, her face screwing up in her effort to thwart the sneeze. Finally the figure turned and left the room, squealing the door closed and turning the key in the lock. Hie room was still. Mentally Leona reached the count of fifty-eight when she heard rustling above her. A curtain of dark hair tumbled over the edge of the bed followed by a childishly round-shaped face.
    "She's gone. You can come out now," the child whispered, then pulled her head up to be quickly replaced by bare feet.
    Leona slowly released the hard pressure on her nose and inhaled deeply as she crawled out from under the bed. The waiting sneeze exploded from her, throwing her head hard against the bed frame. Bright colors swam in Leona's head, and her eyes teared. She reached up to tenderly touch the top of her head as if to protect it from further mishap as she dragged the rest of her body out from beneath the bed.
    The child stood by the fireplace where dying embers glowed. She was coaxing a punk to burn. Carefully she carried it to the candle, lighting the sputtering wick. She shook the punk out, then conscientiously touched the end to see that all sparks were out, her tongue caught carefully between her teeth, the tip curving up to touch her upper lip. It was an endearing gesture.
    Leona led her back to the bed, encouraging her to sit in the middle of its wide expanse with the pelts tucked up around her for warmth.
    "Now," Leona said, sitting at the end of the bed facing the child, "I suppose I had best introduce myself. My name is Leona Leonard. And yours is—?"
    "Chrissy—I mean, Lady Christiana Deveraux, daughter of the Sixth Earl of Nevin," she amended, drawing herself up straight and proud.
    Leona repressed a smile at the child's unconscious formality. That formality also lent credence to the child's words. Leona was certain that no child, unless she was of the aristocracy, would automatically assume such an attitude. "I'm delighted to meet you Lady Christiana, even if it is under somewhat unusual circumstances."
    "Please, call me Chrissy." The child blushed and looked down, nervously twisting her fingers together. "They always called me Lady Christiana," she explained with unconcealed dislike.
    "I see." Leona paused, searching for ways to discern the truth. "The Norths say you're one of their relatives . . ." she began slowly.
    "That's a lie!" The heated outburst surprised them both. The child bit her lower lip, her chin quivering slightly as she stared intently at Leona. "I'm not. Really, I'm not. I'm telling the truth. Please believe me. Please help me!"
    Leona compressed her lips and sat silent a moment, searching the child's anxious face for the truth. Finally she reached out to lay her hand on the child's arm. "How can I help?"
    "Get me out of here! Please! They . . . they kidnapped me while I was on my way to visit Nanny Hazlett," she explained, her words coming out in a rush. "They hit Walter on the head. There was so much blood! And then they threw a blanket over my head and carried me away, leaving Walter there to die!"
    "Gently, child. Gently," Leona soothed, patting her arm.
    Chrissy sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. When she looked up at Leona again, there was a renewed expression of mulishness on her face.
    "It's not that I don't believe you. I'm merely trying to understand. Now, where and when did they capture you?"
    "I was driving my little pony cart on my way to visit Nanny Hazlitt. She used to be my nurse. She lives in a little cottage by herself, and she really shouldn't. She's blind now, you see. She was my daddy's