Black Wreath Read Free Page A

whole room seemed startled at the affront. Even Smeadie frozelike a statue as he brought another dish to Lord Dunmain.
    ‘What did you say?’ His father’s voice was thunderous.
    Miss Deakin, for James could not call her anything else, was white with anger and seemed temporarily robbed of the ability to speak. But it came back, in a choking, indignant gasp. ‘William, will you let him speak of me so?’
    Lord Dunmain rammed the handle of his knife on the table. ‘How dare you dispute the honour of this lady. She is Lady Dunmain, James, and so she will remain. Your late mother does not enter into this.’
    She is not my
late
mother, James said silently. He closed his eyes and saw his mother’s face as it was on the day she left, drawn and tear-stained. Then he banished that image and thought of her when they had been alone together, talking softly. Sometimes she would read to him – he held now to the sound of her voice, trying to blot out the unpleasant voices of his father and Miss Deakin.
    ‘He ought to be whipped,’ Miss Deakin hissed. ‘This is why he cannot stay here,’ she added, as if she was only too glad James had furnished her with a reason to be rid of him.
    ‘It is in your own best interest that we have decided you should reside under the guardianship of a most excellent gentleman, a relative of your step-mother. His name is Arthur Kavanagh. There is one other thing …’ Lord Dunmain paused and looked at Miss Deakin. James kept his eyes on his father. ‘You will not be James Lovett there; you will be a simple boy and not the son of a lord, is that clear?’
    James thought back to the conversation he had overheard.They wanted him out of the way; they wanted to erase even his name.
    ‘What of my school? Who will I be in Barnaby Dunn’s?’
    There was another pause as his father and Miss Deakin looked at each other again. Eventually Lord Dunmain spoke. ‘There will be no school, for the moment. Later, perhaps, it may be possible to resume your education, but for now …’
    He didn’t finish the sentence, but James understood that he was to become someone who didn’t need schooling. He thought of his school, the crowded desks and the stern features of Barnaby Dunn, who was impatient but not unkind. It was peaceful to sit and write at a desk. James loved the feel of the quill and the flow of the black ink across the page, and he loved to look up at the big shelf where Barnaby kept his books, thinking about all the knowledge that was wrapped up in them, waiting to be discovered.
    ‘What are you dreaming about now, young Lovett?’ Barnaby Dunn would often ask.
    He called James to his desk once when he was gathering his books to go home. ‘You’re a clever boy,’ he said. ‘And quick to learn. What do you think you’ll be in life, other than a great lord?’
    ‘An explorer,’ James said. ‘I want to see everything in the world.’
    ‘Well,’ Barnaby said, ‘I can see you’ll do great things.’
    James felt his eyes stinging at the memory. How could he do great things if he wasn’t allowed to learn? And to be in some other house, with a stranger, and without even his ownname to comfort him – they couldn’t mean it.
    ‘I don’t understand,’ James said. ‘How can I leave here?’
    There was no reply. His father simply stared at him.
    Smeadie hovered beside the table, offering more dishes, but Lord Dunmain waved him away and got up. Breakfast was over, and with it all discussion. The decision was made – there would be no appeal.

Three

A Hurried Departure
    T he very fact that James’s departure had been spoken of at breakfast seemed to demand that the plan be put into action at the earliest possible moment. Perhaps Miss Deakin felt that if the business wasn’t concluded speedily, there was a danger that it might be postponed or simply forgotten. In any case, it was she who bustled about making the arrangements. She sent word to her relative and told Smeadie to pack a small bag