Prudence raised her eyebrows at Fanny for confirmation.
“Yes, ’tis true. I tried myself to remove it, but it won’t budge.”
Prudence gaped. “You mean to tell me you’ve left it there? Unguarded? Did you at least think to put up some sort of protection?”
Fanny looked away. “Of course I did. I used the same protection we put on the blue cloth we wrapped the spindle in before. I was reminded of it when I saw it in Briar’s pocket. That’s where I was when Henry here came home. This time it’s the frame itself that’ll keep the girls safe. Curious things those mill girls. Perhaps after their recent illnesses some won’t be so nosy.”
“Briar, will you be all right here?” asked Prudence. “Henry, maybe you should take Briar and the children to your house for the night while Fanny and I reclaim the spindle.”
“How are the legs?” Henry asked. “I could carry you the whole way if you want.”
Still seated, Briar tentatively wiggled her toes. She grinned. Toes, those largely ignored appendages, had never felt so good. Next the legs, swinging at the knee. “I can move them!” Not even a single shard of pain. She was healing, truly healing. The nightmare was over. “Let’s see if they’ll bear weight.” With a deep breath, she pushed up from the chair, leaning against the table. Her legs wobbled but held. “If I don’t have to run, I can make it.”
“Excellent.” Fanny clapped in excitement. “Let me get my shawl and we’ll be off,” she said to Prudence as if they were planning a leisurely walk in the woods.
“And where are the boys?” Prudence asked.
“With the Princes. I have everything under control,” Fanny said, irritated. “You aren’t the only one who can look after children.”
“They are not with the Princes. I’ve just come from there.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Briar’s legs gave out beneath her and she collapsed back into her chair. “She has them.” It was like a punch in the gut. All this time Briar had been focused on protecting the girls around her, and she’d not paid enough attention to the boys.
If anything happened to them she’d never forgive herself.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Fanny said. “I’ll go look for them.”
“And I’ll go look for Isodora,” Prudence said. “She’ll be easy to track now.” With one last withering look at Fanny, she disappeared out the door.
“Always thinks she knows best. Always thinks she can do everything herself,” muttered Fanny. “Pansy, come help me find your brothers.”
Briar tried to stand again, but her legs wouldn’t support her.
“Stay put. Pansy and I will visit all their favorite spots in case the boys got lost in the dark.” She lit the lantern.
Henry started for the door. “I’ll go home and get my parents to spread the word. We’ll have everyone in the valley looking for them. I’ll come back with the wagon for Briar.” With an encouraging squeeze to Briar’s shoulder, he sprinted into the night.
Briar stood up and took tiny, shaking steps forward to follow Fanny and Pansy outside, but Fanny stopped her. “You need to stay here in case the boys come home.”
“I can’t. I have to help. Pansy can stay and wait.”
Fanny took Pansy’s hand and walked her to the door. “No, dearie. I need her to show me all their hiding places in case they simply fell asleep after such a busy day. You stay here. Your legs aren’t strong enough yet.”
“But—”
Fanny paused at the threshold. “If the boys come home, bang on a pot so we know we can stop the search.”
And with that, they were gone.
Briar couldn’t just sit there and do nothing! She set to work lighting candles and putting them in the windows as beacons for the boys. Her legs refused to respond to her commands to move faster. Instead, she walked as if through mud, fighting for every inch.
Finally, Briar set the last candle in a window, grateful that her legs had grown stronger with each step, though not strong enough to pace like she wanted to. She moved a chair into the doorway to keep watch. It was a dark night. Even the fireflies weren’t playing in the trees. She strained her eyes, looking for any sign of movement. Listening for the faintest of cries. Willing the boys to call for her.
While Briar sat waiting, a touch of fog descended into the valley. She shivered as the breeze blew the mist into the yard and pulled at her feet. Adrenaline punched her heart. She’d seen this fog before. Isodora.