‘Oh how glad I am you came home and didn’t go on round the world!’ cried Bonnie.

  Sir Willoughby marched in, beaming. ‘Well, well,’ he said, ‘has Madam Hen found her chicks, eh? But as for the state your house is in, my lady, I hardly dare describe it to you. We shall have to have it completely redecorated. And what’s to be done with all these poor orphans?’

  ‘Oh Papa,’ said Bonnie, bursting with excitement. ‘I have a plan for them!’

  ‘You have, have you, hussy? What is it, then?’

  ‘Don’t you think Aunt Jane could come and live in the Dower House, just across the park, and run a school for them? Aunt Jane loves children!’

  What, Aunt Jane run a school? At her age?’

  ‘Aunt Jane is very independent,’ Bonnie said. ‘She wouldn’t want to feel she was living on charity. But she could have people to help her – kind people. And she could teach the girls beautiful embroidery!’

  Lucy and Emma looked so wistful at the thought of this bliss that Sir Willoughby promised to consider it.

  A happy party sat down to dine in the Great Hall that night. Spock and Cardigan, the Bow Street officials, had already left to commit their prisoners to the nearest jail, and the ruffianly gang of servants kept on by Miss Slighcarp had been summarily dismissed. Simon, riding about the countryside, had taken the news of Sir Willoughby’s return to all the old servants, Solly and Timon and John Groom and Mrs Shubunkin, and they had come hastening back.

  The orphans, still dazed at their good fortune, sat at a table of their own, eating roast turkey and kindly averting their gaze from the pale cheeks and red eyes of Diana Brisket, who, having been in a position to bully and hector as much as she pleased, was now reduced to a state where she had not a friend to stand by her. Mrs Brisket had sold the school in Blastburn and so Diana had nowhere to go and was forced, willy-nilly, to stay with the orphans (where, it may be said in passing, wholesome discipline and the example of Aunt Jane’s unselfish nature soon wrought an improvement in her character). Some of the parlour boarders and daughters of the nobility and gentry had been fetched away by their parents, such as lived near enough, and the rest were awaiting removal.

  Simon sat between Bonnie and Sylvia. Sir Willoughby gave him some very kindly looks. He had heard by now of Simon’s brave part in rescuing the girls both from the wolves and from Mrs Brisket’s dreadful establishment, and of his help with Aunt Jane’s illness. The money he had spent had been returned to him with interest.

  ‘It looks as if we’re going to have an adopted son as well as an adopted daughter,’ said Sir Willoughby. ‘Hey, my boy? What shall we do with you, then? Put you through school?’

  ‘No thank you, Sir Willoughby,’ said Simon gratefully but firmly. ‘School wouldn’t suit me at all.’

  ‘What then? Can’t just run wild.’

  ‘I’m going to be a painter,’ Simon explained. ‘Dr Field said I showed great promise, and he told me I could stay with him and go to one of the famous London art schools.’

  ‘Oh Simon,’ said Bonnie, dismayed, ‘and leave Willoughby?’

  ‘I’ll come back every holidays,’ he told her. ‘Remember we promised to go and see Mr Wilderness! I want to paint a picture of Great Whinside from the dale – oh, and a hundred other places round here.’

  ‘Sensible lad,’ approved Sir Willoughby. ‘Well, always remember, whenever you come back, there’s a warm welcome for you at Willoughby Chase.’

  ‘Thank you, Sir Willoughby,’ said Simon beaming. ‘And now if you’ll excuse me, I think I ought to be returning to my cave. I want to see how my bees are getting on.’

  ‘Good night, Simon,’ cried Bonnie and Sylvia, ‘we shall come and see you tomorrow.’

  Bonnie yawned.

  ‘It’s long past these children’s bedtime,’ said Sir Willoughby, ‘and they were travelling all night. Off with you now – I dare say your mother will be up by and by to say good night to you in bed.’

  Their own room had been hastily prepared for them and they were glad to tumble between the fine silken sheets. ‘And oh, Bonnie,’ called Sylvia, ‘have you seen the pretty dresses Pattern has been making for us?’

  ‘I’ve grown accustomed to boys’ clothes,’ grumbled Bonnie.

  ‘Oh, what nonsense, miss!’ said Pattern scoldingly, and ruined the effect by giving Bonnie a hug. ‘There now, go to sleep, you blessed pair, and don’t let either of you move a muscle till you’re called. We’ve had quite enough to worry about today, with everything at sixes and sevens, and no servants to speak of, and a hundred orphans to feed. Mind! You’re not to speak a word till eight o’clock. You’re not even to dream!’

  ‘Dream,’ murmured Bonnie sleepily, ‘we can’t help dreaming, Pattern. We’ve so much to dream about — the wolves, and Miss Slighcarp, and walking to London, and helping poor Aunt Jane, and Mamma and Papa adrift in a boat full of oranges and grapes …’ Her voice trailed away into sleep.

  Light after light in the windows of the great house was extinguished, until at length it stood dark and silent. And though the house had witnessed many strange scenes, wolf-hunts and wine-drinking and weddings and wars, it is doubtful whether during its whole history any of its inmates had had such adventures as those of Sylvia and Bonnie Green.

  Also by Joan Aiken:

  The Wolves of Willoughby Chase sequence:

  The Wolves of Willoughby Chase

  Black Hearts in Battersea

  Night Birds on Nantucket

  The Stolen Lake

  Limbo Lodge

  The Cuckoo Tree

  Dido and Pa

  Is

  Cold Shoulder Road

  Midwinter Nightingale

  The Witch of Clatteringshaws

  (in preparation)

  The Felix trilogy:

  Go Saddle the Sea

  Bridle the Wind

  The Teeth of the Gale

  The Whispering Mountain

  (winner of the Guardian Award 1969)

  Short Story Collections:

  A Handful of Gold

  Ghostly Beasts

  Young Fiction:

  The St. Boan Trilogy

  In Thunder’s Pocket

  The Song of Mat and Ben

  Bone and Dream

  About the Author

  Prize-winning Joan Aiken was born in Sussex in 1924 and came from a family of writers. Her father was the novelist and poet, Conrad Aiken and her sister, Jane Aiken Hodge, writes historical fiction for adults. Before joining the ‘family business’ herself, Joan had a variety of jobs, including working for the BBC, the United Nations Information Centre and then as features editor for a short story magazine. Her first children’s novel, The Kingdom of the Cave was published in 1960. Since then she has written over 100 books for young readers and adults and has been awarded the MBE for her services to literature. Joan Aiken died in 2004.

  THE WOLVES OF WILLOUGHBY CHASE

  AN RHCB DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 409 02541 2

  Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,

  an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK

  A Random House Group Company

  This ebook edition published 2012

  Copyright © Joan Aiken, 1962

  Illustrations Copyright © Pat Marriott, 1962

  First published in Great Britain

  Red Fox 1962

  The right of Joan Aiken to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
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  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

 


 

  Joan Aiken, The Wolves of Willoughby Chase

 


 

 
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