The Education of Portia by Lesley-Anne McLeod Read Free Book Online

sober cloak of dark green. Then with a nod to her porter, she let herself
out of the house.
    Portia hurried down the path and through the wrought iron gates into the lane. With a
backward look at the house, she ascertained that there were no faces at the windows and that no
one was watching from the gardens. Confident she was unobserved, she picked up her skirts and
raced--with a turn of speed that surprised her--down the lane.
    Her long legs soon caught up the very short ones of her quarry and she slowed to catch
her breath before speaking to the child. The little girl had not apparently heard her approach for
she did not look around. The mist was turning to rain and the wind was gathering strength; Portia
wondered why the child had not chosen a better day for her escape.
    At length she spoke. "Penelope? Penny!"
    The child halted immediately and looked back. "Mith Crothmichael? What are you
doing here?" There was surprise but no fear and nothing of guilt in the little girl's bright
face.
    "More to the point dear, what are you doing?" Portia placed a hand on the child's
shoulder, wishing to make a physical connection with the miscreant.
    "I am going to London to see Papa, and Ruff." Penelope evidently had no sense of
having done anything wrong. Her statement of purpose was entirely without guile.
    "Who is Ruff?" Portia's question was a mixture of curiosity and cunning distraction.
    "Our dog...Papa'th hound. We brought him to London with us. We knew Papa would
want to see him. We love him; he's a ferocious guard dog but not with uth. Hith real name is
Perrington's Ruffian. Papa says it is appropr'ate 'cause he has no manners."
    "Ah." Portia had a vision of Lord Stadbroke coping with a country-trained beast in an
elegant London townhouse. He was well-served, she decided uncharitably. "Well, do let's discuss
your journey a little first. It is quite some little distance you know and the weather is not of the
best. "
    Penelope hunched a shoulder that dismissed such considerations. "We came to Hornthey
to be close to Papa. And he has not visited. So I am determined upon visiting him."
    Irritation with the viscount surged through Portia yet again. The embankment was steep
nearby and there was a sheltered hollow in the lee of the hedge still clinging to its leaves and full
of hips and haws. She drew the child to sit beside her there on a fortuitous stone.
    "Now Penny, do you know that you are not supposed to leave the school?" Portia chose
her words carefully. The sturdy independence of the child must not be harmed, but a
consciousness of her responsibilities and her restrictions must be brought to bear.
    "Yeth." The child's dark gaze was fastened unwaveringly upon her face.
    "And you know that the rule is supposed to keep you safe?"
    "Yeth."
    "Do you think you would be safe, walking alone to London? This is not Lincolnshire,
my dear. Everyone here does not know you and respect you as Lord Stadbroke's daughter.
London is a great city and not always harmless."
    The child studied her with an earnest gaze. "P'raps I should have thought a little more on
it. But now that you know where I mean to go, you can accompany me."
    "Penny, that is not possible. Particularly not today. I am certain your papa will visit you
soon. In fact, I will engage to ensure it."
    "Can you? We just had a council of war, my sisters and I. They also said he would come
soon. But they will say anything to keep me biddable, so I decided to see him today."
Her small face twisted in a ferocious frown.
    "I am sure they have the right of it. They would not lie to you, nor will I. And I know for
a fact that Cook has made jam tarts."
    "Very well, I'll come back." The child hopped to her feet and waited for Portia to rise
and shake out her skirts. Her keys, watch and etui collided and chimed.
    "You always jingle, Mith. I like it. We always know where you are, becauthe we can
hear your tune. Why do you wear those things?"
    Portia drew up her own hood to defend against the