Strands of Bronze and Gold by Jane Nickerson

Author:Jane Nickerson [Nickerson, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2013-03-12T04:00:00+00:00

“Miss Sophia!” Charles swooped after me down the hall, holding out a basket. “Here’s the picnic Mr. Alphonse fixed for your lunch. I suggested he tuck in extra orange blossom cakes, as I know how you like them.”

It was Monday, and I stood dressed for my forest walk. To have Charles act so friendly moved me. Without thinking, I laid a hand on his arm. I meant to thank him for everything—not just the basket, but for his steadfast kindness to both me and poor Buttercup.

At that moment M. Bernard rounded the corner. His eyes went straight to where I touched Charles. His brows lifted slightly. I snatched my hand back, looking ridiculously guilty as I did so. Charles bowed and slipped away.

M. Bernard paused for a moment before saying lightly, “Oho! Going for a picnic, ma loutre? The clouds threaten, but of course that will not stop you. You are avid about your woodland rambles.”

“Yes, sir. I enjoy the outdoors above all things.” I searched his face, but it was impossible to read.

“Oui. Above all things,” he said with an odd smile.

He was displeased. “Perhaps—perhaps you would join me?”

“Not today. Urgent business calls. Instead, I wish you au revoir so you may wend your way. Be sure to take a wrap.”

He continued down the corridor. I watched after his powerful figure sheathed in perfectly fitting ochre brown until he turned the corner. He didn’t like me to enjoy anything without him. However, I certainly wouldn’t cease my forest walks; they were my only escape. And it would be nice if I were to meet Mr. Stone again—although it was unlikely to happen, I reminded myself quickly.

In spite of the brooding sky and M. Bernard’s instructions, I left the house without snatching up a cloak.

Odette accepted an orange blossom cake with a frown, but by now I knew her expressions well enough to guess she was pleased with it. She was already eating when I moved on into the forest, swinging my basket. I glanced around to ensure that no one lurked. I stepped quickly and circled back on myself several times to confuse anyone who might follow.

Whereas last week the autumn leaves had been mostly flaming scarlet and orange, I now trod on a natural carpet of pure fallen gold, as if I stepped through the streets of heaven. A sudden gust sent a golden shower like a blessing down upon my head.

He was there ahead of me. Mr. Stone. He hunched on a rock in a ferny glade studded with boulders, absorbed in sketching. I hesitated. Although we had introduced ourselves, it wasn’t proper to speak to a young man alone. And what if he wanted to remain alone? I couldn’t help it—I must approach him. I strode into the clearing and said, “Why, Mr. Stone, how nice to see you again.”

He looked up and warmth flooded his face. He stood awkwardly and bowed. “Miss Petheram! I confess I wondered if I might find you here since we’re both fond of this wild place.

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