Chapter Text
The moon hung in a narrow crescent among clouds that rolled in languidly from the shore. Among the tall trees and lush fields of Heyrick Park, the nightingales sang as the nocturnal animals made their rounds of the best feeding spots. The House was dark and quiet in the peaceful night. Each resident, above stairs and below, slept soundly. And as they slumbered, those who had the most to wish for, the most to gain – those four souls - dreamt of a Heyrick Park and Colbourne family that had welcomed Charlotte Heywood into their hearts forever.
Leonora Colbourne, in the prime of her adventurous and curious youth, had been asleep the longest. She was dreaming of a grand expedition around the grounds to spy on enemy armies from perches high and low, and to collect insects and tiny creatures to examine later with her fellow naturalists. But after obtaining a handful of small living things in pouches and pockets, she had fallen from a mid-height tree branch while completing her final reconnaissance mission. She trudged home with holes in the front of her favorite breeches (the soft ones!) and two partially bloody knees to match.
Charlotte met her in the foyer with the greatest look of concern, sympathy and understanding. Leo looked at her with glassy eyes but could not immediately speak.
“Oh, my dear, are you hurt very badly?” Charlotte asked as she kneeled in front of her daughter.
Leo responded quietly, “No, my knees are not so bad, Mama. Just a little sting. But are you angry with me? I was in a tree that you warned me about – the one across from the wheat field that you said had several weak branches.”
“Leo,” Charlotte said gently, “I am not angry. I did not forbid you from the tree. But perhaps you have learned a lesson about heeding my warnings.”
“Oh yes, I have,” assured Leo. “You were right, as you are about so many things, Mama.”
“Let us clean and dress these wounds with haste,” Charlotte said as she led Leo downstairs to the kitchen and Mrs. Wheatley’s shelf of remedies.
“May I have a biscuit?” Leonora asked with a sly smile.
“Of course. Have as many as you would like.”
Leo nibbled happily on the biscuits while her loving mama took a damp cloth to her scraped knees and applied a trusted salve to soothe the sting. She listened very intently as Charlotte shared her own story of falling out of a tree with Aunt Alison during a very competitive game of hide-and-seek with her many brothers. And Leo absolutely beamed when Charlotte promised to sew her a new pair of small breeches from some of the softest linen in the basket of old clothes.
“Come to think of it,” Charlotte noted, “I should make you a few pairs. They are certainly more practical for the activities you engage in each day.” Leo could not believe her good fortune! She was in no trouble with her mother. She had eaten more biscuits than would normally be allowed before dinner. And she had been promised several more pairs of breeches. This day was turning out to be not so bad after all.
Leo was nearly skipping with excitement as they ascended the stairs but stopped when she remembered something. She turned to Charlotte and admitted one more part of her melancholy to her mama. “Tis very unfortunate,” she said dramatically. “I lost all of the creatures I had put in my pockets,” she said. “I wanted to examine them with Father’s magnifying glass.”
“Oh, in that case, we will have to find more of the same tomorrow,” Charlotte replied cheerily. “I shall come with you.”
Leo looked at her new mama with equal parts delight and wonder.