Heaven Sent (18 page)

“
I think you’re right.” Mark
took the snifter and inhaled the aroma of the fine old cognac
Aubrey had imported from France.

Aubrey held out his glass in a toast.
“To Monster.”

Mark clinked his own snifter to
Aubrey’s. “To Monster.”

The two men drank that tot of brandy
and had another before they, too, went upstairs to their
beds.

After he undressed and put on his
nightshirt, Aubrey sat on the edge of his bed, buried his head in
his hands, and reviewed the evening’s events in his mind. When he
got to the part where Great-Aunt Evelyn and Monster had stood
staring at each other, he unburied his head and grinned. He wished
someone would invent a camera that could capture such moments for
all time. When he got gloomy, as happened too often these days, all
he’d have to do would be to take out the picture of the
confrontation and glance at it in order to cheer up.

The notion of Bilgewater attempting to
take Becky from him wiped the grin from his face,
however.

“
The frightful old cow.” He
swung his feet up and stuck them under the covers. “Her gall and
nerve are almost as immense as she is.”

Even though he’d begun to steam under
the influence of thoughts of Evelyn Bridgewater, Aubrey’s bed was
cold. He guessed it was time to haul out the bed socks Anne had
knitted for him five years before. He’d never had to wear them when
Anne was alive—or, at least, not until the last year or
so.

With a sigh, Aubrey allowed his
thoughts to drift. Remembering Anne and all of her charming and
kindly ways always made him melancholy.

He feared Miss Prophet had been right
about him. He had neglected Becky. What a galling admission that
was. Still, he had been unkind to Becky during this past year. He
ought not to have become so entangled with his own feelings of
loss. He should have been available for his daughter. Well, he was
aware of his failing now, and he’d do better from now on. He’d
already begun to improve. Even Miss Prophet, if she were honest,
would have to admit as much.

He recalled her parting words to old
Bilgewater, and went to sleep with a grin on his face.

Chapter Nine

On Becky’s very first day of school,
Callie drove Becky to Santa Angelica in Aubrey’s pony cart. Becky
was as excited as Callie had ever seen her. She’d written a special
letter to her mother the evening before, which Callie had promised
to post, detailing how much she was looking forward to starting
school.

Mis Prophet nos the
teacher
, the little girl had
written.
And she says she is very
nice
.

And that was the truth. Callie and
Myrtle Oakes had gone all through school together. If Santa
Angelica ever required the services of a third teacher, Callie had
aimed to apply for it—until she’d secured her current position. Now
she wasn’t so sure she wanted to leave Becky in order to teach. At
all odds, she and Myrtle were the best of friends, and they’d
spoken often about how nice it would be to work
together.

Aubrey had dragged himself away from
his business long enough to wave at them from the massive front
porch of the Lockhart mansion. He’d even carried Becky to the pony
cart, kissed her, and wished her well on her first day of
school.

The mid-September morning air felt
rather chilly, so Becky wore a bright red sweater, knitted
especially for her by Mrs. Granger, over the new blue-flowered
school dress Callie had made for her. She looked charming, with her
cheeks glowing from good health and excitement, and in her new
shoes and stockings. Mrs. Granger had packed her a lunch, which she
carried in her new tin lunch pail.

Callie could tell Becky felt grown-up.
“Did you remember the apple to give to Miss Oakes?”

Becky bounced on the seat. “Yes,
ma’am.” Then she grinned. She and Callie had been practicing
Becky’s school manners, and ma’ams were new to her.

“
Very good, Becky. I’m sure
you’ll be a wonderful student.”

“
I already know how to read
and write a little.”

“
Yes, you do. More than a
little, I’d say. I was impressed with your knowledge of
letters.”

“
My mama taught
me.”

Callie was interested to observe that
Becky no longer sounded sad and wistful whenever she spoke of her
late mother. Of course, that might be the result of time helping to
heal the wound, or the natural resilience of children. But Callie
believed at least some small part of the little girl’s recovered
spirits was due to her own presence in Becky’s life. Or at least
she hoped so.

“
You’re already very good
with your letters, Becky. I’m sure Miss Oakes will be
pleased.”

“
Thank you. I hope I’ll do
well in school. I told Papa I’d try real hard.”

Hmph
. As if Aubrey cared.

Callie scolded herself for the
uncharitable thought. Becky’s papa was not a beast, even if he
didn’t behave the way she thought he ought. Not often enough,
anyhow.

The closer they came to the village of
Santa Angelica, the more children they saw making their ways to the
tiny schoolhouse. Callie scanned the scene, hoping to find some of
her nieces and nephews. Sure enough, they were almost to the
outskirts of town when she spotted Jane and Johnny, her sister
Alta’s two youngest. She called out to them, and they trotted over
to the pony cart.

Callie introduced the two to Becky,
who smiled shyly. “Can they come up with us?” she asked Callie in a
whisper.

“
Of course. Climb aboard,
you two.” She hoped Jane, who was a sweet child and just about
Becky’s age, would take Becky under her wing. Jane was a motherly
sort, and Becky needed friends her own age. f

Money was an important commodity, and
Callie would never discount its importance in life, but the truth
was that Aubrey Lockhart’s fortune hadn’t provided Becky with
nearly enough playmates—or any at all, for that matter. The
Lockhart mansion sat quite a ways outside of Santa Angelica, and
the circumstances of her mother’s illness, as well as the isolation
of her home, had prevented Becky from striking up acquaintances
with other children. Callie prayed that school, and perhaps Jane’s
friendship, would take care of the problem.

When they pulled up to a small
schoolhouse, Myrtle Oakes and Mr. Millhouse, Santa Angelica’s
other, older, schoolteacher, were standing outside the door,
greeting the children as they entered the classrooms. Myrtle waved
to Callie, who waved bk. Callie had visited Myrtle over the last
weekend and told her all about Becky, so Myrtle was
prepared.

Callie wanted to walk Becky
to the schoolroom and see her settled, but she knew she oughtn’t.
The children might take her concern amiss and start to tease Becky
about being a “mama’s girl,” or something equally cruel. Since
Becky didn’t need to be teased about her mother almost more than
she
did
need to
make friends, Callie forced herself to sit in the pony cart and
watch.

She was glad for her restraint, since
everything worked out quite well without her interference. Jane and
Johnny chatted merrily with Becky as they walked with her up to the
schoolhouse. Both of Alta’s children knew Myrtle, as well as the
other children in town, so introductions were quickly and easily
made. Callie was pleased to see Myrtle stoop to chat with Becky and
gesture her into the schoolhouse, explaining, Callie imagined,
where the children were to store their lunch pails and
sweaters.

As soon as Becky, Jane and Johnny
disappeared inside the tiny building, Myrtle waved at Callie again.
Her smile told Callie that all would be well. As she slapped the
reins gently against the pony’s rump and headed for her sister
Alta’s house, Callie prayed Myrtle was right.

*****

That evening as Aubrey, Callie and
Becky sat at the dinner table, it was all Becky could do to sit
still. It looked to Aubrey as if, given a free hand, she’d pop up
from her chair and begin dancing on the table. And probably sing an
accompaniment. As it was, even the sobering influence of Aubrey and
Callie restraining her, she couldn’t stop chattering about her
first day at school.

He blinked at her after she’d rendered
a particularly enthusiastic description of the lunch hour, which,
apparently, had been vastly amusing and fraught with games and
exchanges of various foodstuffs. Aubrey couldn’t remember his first
day of school very well, but he didn’t think it had been so full of
fun and delight.

“
So I got to eat one of
Jane’s celery sticks, and she ate my apple.” Becky sounded pleased
with the exchange.

“
Is that so?” Aubrey glanced
from Becky, seated on the right side of the dinner table, to Miss
Prophet, who sat on the left. He opted not to mention what he
perceived as an unfair trade of food items, because he sensed Becky
would be hurt if he did. “It sounds as though you enjoyed your
first experience with school.”

“
Oh, I did, Papa! It was so
much fun! And Miss Oakes started reading a
super
story to us!”

“
Did she indeed?”

“
Yes. It’s all about an
English boy who ends up on a pirate ship. And there’s a mean pirate
named Long John Silver and a parrot, and buried treasure, and
everything.”

“
I see. Sounds like
Treasure Island
to me.”
Aubrey smiled at his daughter, glad that she was so happy about
school. He’d been worried that she’d feel alone and left out, since
she hadn’t had much interaction with other children in Santa
Angelica. “And did you learn anything? Or did Miss Oakes read to
you all day?”

Blast. That sounded as if he were
being critical, and he hadn’t meant it to. He was only curious. Not
for the first time, Aubrey wished he had a way with
children.

“
Miss Oakes is a fine
teacher,” said Callie—Miss Prophet, he meant.

Blast it, Aubrey couldn’t recall
exactly when he’d begun thinking of his daughter’s nanny as
“Callie,” but he wished he hadn’t. “I’m sure of it,” he said
soothingly.

“
Oh, yes, Papa. She’s
super
. And she only just
started reading us
Treasure
Island
. She read through the first chapter
today. It was Johnny who told me the rest of the story.”

“
I see. I trust that won’t
spoil the remainder of the book for you.”

“
Oh, no! I can’t wait to
hear more of it tomorrow,” She fairly glowed at Miss Prophet. “And
I like Johnny a lot. And Jane. She’s
super
.”

Aubrey assumed super was a word Becky
had heard today, liked, and decided to adopt as her own. “I see.
And who are Johnny and Jane?”

“
They’re Miss Prophet’s
relatives,” Becky said complacently. “They’re both
super.”

“
I see.” Aubrey glanced at
Miss Prophet and wondered if her relatives were all as rambunctious
as she. He didn’t ask, since he didn’t want to precipitate an
argument. “And you say Miss Oakes got some teaching done, as well
as some reading?”

“
Oh, yes.” Becky forked up a
piece of roast pork. Before she popped it into her mouth, she said,
“She taught us all about our ABCs.”

“
I thought you already knew
your ABCs.” Aubrey delivered the sentence with a smile, and then
shot a peek at Callie, to make sure she knew he wasn’t quibbling
with the teacher’s methods. She didn’t even bother to look at him,
blast her, but serenely chewed a bite of potato, her gaze fixed
upon Becky.

“
Oh, I do know them, Papa.”
Becky was obviously proud of her exalted knowledge. “Miss Oakes
found that out right off because I could read a whole page in my
reader without once stumbling over a word. Since I can already read
and write, Miss Oakes said I can help her with the other children
who don’t know their letters.”

“
Good. That’s good.” Aubrey
beamed at his daughter, glad to hear that the Santa Angelica
schoolteacher possessed enough perspicacity to recognize his
daughter’s brilliance.

“
It’s very good, Becky,”
Callie said, agreeing with him for once. “But you must never act as
though you consider yourself better than the children who don’t
know as much as you.”

“
But I am better than they
are,” Becky said, although Aubrey was sure she didn’t mean it the
way it sounded.

Callie smiled at her. “Of course,
you’re much better at your letters than the rest of the children.
But that doesn’t make you a better person.”

“
Oh,” said Becky, but she
still looked confused.

“
You know how much you hate
it when people lord it over you because they know things that you
don’t,” Callie went on.

Becky nodded.

Aubrey wondered what the devil Miss
Prophet meant by this “lord it over you” nonsense. He imagined he
was about to find out.

“
Well, then, think of how
the other children will feel if they think you’re trying to lord it
over them because you’ve had an opportunity to learn your letters
and they haven’t. You don’t want them to dislike you or think
you’re stuck-up, do you?”