nurse, too. And my Uncle Nigel's and Aunt Lucy's." Her forehead furrowed, and she bit the tip of a finger as she thought. "I don't know how long ago. It seems like years! Sometimes they give me this awful-tasting stuff that makes me sleep and sleep!"
Laudanum, most likely, Leona thought. And lamentably, that is a standard practice for treating the insane. Instinctively, though, she believed the child. Rationally she was forced to gather further evidence. "Where is your home?"
"Castle Marin."
Leona shook her head. "I'm afraid I've not heard of it"
"It's in Devon, not far from Axminster."
"Is that where your parents are?"
Her face fell. "No," she answered on a thread of sound. "They're in Switzerland. Papa's sick. The doctors said Switzerland would make him better. But Grandmamma, Uncle Nigel, and Aunt Lucy are at Castle Marin. They've been taking care of me until Mama and Papa can come home. If they ever can," she finished softly. She looked away, swallowing thickly.
Something was terribly wrong here—as if kidnapping weren't enough! "Do you know what it is the kidnappers want?"
"Money, I guess, but they won't take it from Uncle Nigel. They want it directly from Papa! They don't care that it would kill Papa to come back to England. I don't understand," the child wailed softly, then crumbled forward, weeping, her face in her hands.
Leona sighed and stroked her head. "I don't either, my dear. But it seems to me that if we're to save your father, we've got to get you out of here."
Chrissy gulped and sniffed as she straightened. "I know, and I've tried to escape several times."
"You have?"
"Uh-huh. First I took a fireplace iron and tried to use it to bash the old lady's head in, but it was too heavy and I missed. So they gave me that stuff to make me sleep and took all the fireplace stuff out of here. Then I dragged the chess table over by the door and stood on it with the wash basin in my hands. I thought I could drop it on her head. But the table fell over while I was standing on it."
"So they took the table away along with any other items you might use as weapons," Leona said.
The child nodded.
That explained the room's bareness. "I gather you also tried to use the highboy and the bed linens? How were you going to use those?" she asked with a hint of admiration and humor in her voice.
"I wiggled behind the highboy and tried to push it over onto Joanna when she brought me food. That didn't work either. It was so heavy, and I couldn't do it quickly. She heard me."
Leona repressed a smile. "Ah, yes, that would be a hard piece to maneuver. And let me guess, you tried to tie the sheets together to form a rope to lower yourself to the ground."
Chrissy nodded.
"You are quite a resourceful young lady. Your parents would be proud of you."
"No, I'm not. I'm not resourceful at all. I've botched up everything." Her little chin quivered again, and her eyes leaked tears out the corners. Defiantly she swiped them away.
Sensing pity could destroy the last vestiges of the child's strength, Leona kept her voice calm and matter of fact. "Well, sometimes we all have to know when we need help. As much as we like to do everything ourselves, sometimes it isn't possible. I think this is one of those times."
"Then you'll help me?"
Leona nodded, then watched—astounded—as the glow of hope turned the drab waif into a dimpled charmer.
"But how will we escape? Do you have a ladder?"
"No. I climbed the vines that grow up the side of the house."
"Vines! Oh, how I wish I'd known of them! I could have climbed down them!" She scrambled to the edge of the bed. "Come on! What are we waiting for?"
Leona grabbed her hand. "Chrissy, wait! It's freezing outside. You are hardly dressed to go out, let alone climb down those vines. Besides, we can't. They were ripping loose as I was climbing up. We would most likely fall and break our necks."
"But. . . but, how am I to escape?"
"By going out the door."
"What? But I can't! I'm locked in.
Laudanum, most likely, Leona thought. And lamentably, that is a standard practice for treating the insane. Instinctively, though, she believed the child. Rationally she was forced to gather further evidence. "Where is your home?"
"Castle Marin."
Leona shook her head. "I'm afraid I've not heard of it"
"It's in Devon, not far from Axminster."
"Is that where your parents are?"
Her face fell. "No," she answered on a thread of sound. "They're in Switzerland. Papa's sick. The doctors said Switzerland would make him better. But Grandmamma, Uncle Nigel, and Aunt Lucy are at Castle Marin. They've been taking care of me until Mama and Papa can come home. If they ever can," she finished softly. She looked away, swallowing thickly.
Something was terribly wrong here—as if kidnapping weren't enough! "Do you know what it is the kidnappers want?"
"Money, I guess, but they won't take it from Uncle Nigel. They want it directly from Papa! They don't care that it would kill Papa to come back to England. I don't understand," the child wailed softly, then crumbled forward, weeping, her face in her hands.
Leona sighed and stroked her head. "I don't either, my dear. But it seems to me that if we're to save your father, we've got to get you out of here."
Chrissy gulped and sniffed as she straightened. "I know, and I've tried to escape several times."
"You have?"
"Uh-huh. First I took a fireplace iron and tried to use it to bash the old lady's head in, but it was too heavy and I missed. So they gave me that stuff to make me sleep and took all the fireplace stuff out of here. Then I dragged the chess table over by the door and stood on it with the wash basin in my hands. I thought I could drop it on her head. But the table fell over while I was standing on it."
"So they took the table away along with any other items you might use as weapons," Leona said.
The child nodded.
That explained the room's bareness. "I gather you also tried to use the highboy and the bed linens? How were you going to use those?" she asked with a hint of admiration and humor in her voice.
"I wiggled behind the highboy and tried to push it over onto Joanna when she brought me food. That didn't work either. It was so heavy, and I couldn't do it quickly. She heard me."
Leona repressed a smile. "Ah, yes, that would be a hard piece to maneuver. And let me guess, you tried to tie the sheets together to form a rope to lower yourself to the ground."
Chrissy nodded.
"You are quite a resourceful young lady. Your parents would be proud of you."
"No, I'm not. I'm not resourceful at all. I've botched up everything." Her little chin quivered again, and her eyes leaked tears out the corners. Defiantly she swiped them away.
Sensing pity could destroy the last vestiges of the child's strength, Leona kept her voice calm and matter of fact. "Well, sometimes we all have to know when we need help. As much as we like to do everything ourselves, sometimes it isn't possible. I think this is one of those times."
"Then you'll help me?"
Leona nodded, then watched—astounded—as the glow of hope turned the drab waif into a dimpled charmer.
"But how will we escape? Do you have a ladder?"
"No. I climbed the vines that grow up the side of the house."
"Vines! Oh, how I wish I'd known of them! I could have climbed down them!" She scrambled to the edge of the bed. "Come on! What are we waiting for?"
Leona grabbed her hand. "Chrissy, wait! It's freezing outside. You are hardly dressed to go out, let alone climb down those vines. Besides, we can't. They were ripping loose as I was climbing up. We would most likely fall and break our necks."
"But. . . but, how am I to escape?"
"By going out the door."
"What? But I can't! I'm locked in.
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