Without a Mother's Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

patch of soil. ‘I don’t see any dragons,’ she remarked.
    ‘I only said there might be.’
    Harriet surveyed heaps of dried mud at regular intervals along the seed-frame walls and detected a passing resemblance to the battlements in the book illustration. ‘Did you build this castle yourself?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes. It’s mine.’
    ‘Of course.’ Harriet picked up the heavy wooden bucket and sniffed, withdrawing her nose sharply. ‘Are you building your castle with this mud?’
    Olivia picked up the tankard. ‘I use this to make the turrets and I collect water in the bucket when it rains. But sometimes it doesn’t rain enough and the mud doesn’t stick together.’
    ‘So you provide a little more yourself.’ A childish pastime, she thought, born of boredom. ‘Is that when you take off your drawers?’
    Miss Olivia stared at her. ‘How did you know?’
    Harriet plucked a fragment of white cotton from a bramble on the path. She was relieved that she had judged the child correctly. ‘I shall keep your castle a secret, Olivia,’ she said, ‘but now that you’re nearly thirteen, I think I can find more interesting things for you to do outdoors. Shall we go back?’
    When they arrived at the house, Mrs Cookson was agitated. ‘Why weren’t you in the schoolroom? The master’s leaving after dinner and he wants to see you first. Go in there now.’
    ‘In where?’
    ‘The library. He’s waiting for you.’
    ‘Wash your hands in the scullery, Olivia, then go up to the schoolroom.’ Harriet rinsed her own hands, tidied her hair and presented herself at the library door.
    ‘Where have you been?’ the master demanded.
    He was standing in front of the fire, lighting his cigar with a burning taper. He did not seem to want an answer for he went on, ‘I’ve enough to do, dealing with my mine, without having to wait about for you or worry about the child. That is your job.’
    ‘Yes, sir. She is safe with me, sir.’ Harriet felt more confident of this now.
    He made a grunting sound that she believed was of approval and waited for him to continue. He was a handsome gentleman, she thought, in spite of his lined face. In fact, his maturity seemed to enhance his strong features, which were dominated by a pair of brown eyes, set well apart. His eyebrows were grey and the hair on his head had not thinned. His tall frame was not bent by toil and she knew he continued to ride when others of his years might have resorted to a carriage.
    ‘Is she?’ he demanded. ‘Is she not still running wild on the moor at every opportunity?’
    ‘Not so much now, sir. I have found her other occupations and I am with her all the time.’
    ‘Make sure you are. She is my ward, my property, and she is to stay that way.’
    ‘Yes, sir.’ Harriet wondered why he was so possessive of a child he found such a tiresome burden. Perhaps it was something to do with the mine. He seemed very agitated.
    ‘I don’t want any young buck near her.’
    ‘Good heavens, no!’ Harriet was appalled that he would voice such an opinion to her. ‘She is still a child, sir.’
    He blew out cigar smoke. ‘She’s wayward. Who knows what she’s been up to on the moor?’ Then he leaned towards her to emphasize his words. ‘If she tries to run off with anyone, I shall hold you responsible.’
    Harriet’s eyes rounded in horror at the idea that Olivia would do any such thing. ‘I am sure there is no risk of that, sir.’
    ‘Are you? Have you discovered yet who took off her drawers?’
    ‘She did, sir.’
    ‘Is that so? Who was with her?’
    ‘No one, sir. She - er - was using an old bucket as a privy.’ She watched incredulity spread across his face. ‘Is that what she says?’
    ‘Yes, sir. She is telling the truth, sir.’
    ‘Is she still a maid?’
    His directness stunned her and she took a moment to recover. ‘I believe so, sir.’
    ‘Mrs Cookson does not.’
    Harriet was annoyed with the woman. The master might indulge his vigorous