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grinding the bread into the small pool of honey.
    "Are you still going to do the rugs for me?"
    "Sure. I don't have much else today." Derek looked over when he heard footsteps on the stairs.
    Stepping into the warm kitchen, Gabriel stopped short at the glare he got from Derek. "I thought you'd be down here. Mother wants to see everyone upstairs. Now."
    Tossing his bread back on the plate, Derek walked past the other boy and up the stairs without a word. The others followed close behind him, stopping in the main hall where Mrs. Worthington stood waiting.
    Dressed in her finest blue dress, a string of pearls around her throat, Mrs. Worthington was the very picture of supremacy. Her eyes were turned down her nose at the three who stood before her, her gloved hands clutched together in front of her.
    "You will all notice that we will be having company for the summer. Jonathan and Catherine will be staying with us. I will expect quiet, polite behavior from everyone. There will be no loud noises in the house," she stated directly to Derek, "nor too near the front lawn. Catherine has been ill and she's coming here to rest. If her health is disturbed there will be severe consequences. Am I clear?"
    "Yes, Mother."
    "Yes, Missus Worthington."
    "Yes, 'am," Derek chorused
    Narrowing her eyes at Derek, she said in a cold voice, "I'd do best to keep you out all together. Without permission directly from me, consider yourself banned from the house until further notice."
    Fighting an odd, mixing feeling of dread, indignation, and relief swell in his stomach, Derek nodded slightly. "Yes, ma'am."
    Turning to Beth, Mrs. Worthington said curtly, "You will have Mrs. Worthington's slave to assist you in the kitchen. You are all dismissed. But you, boy, don't go too far. You'll be helping them in with their luggage when they arrive."
    "Yes, ma'am," Derek repeated.
    When Mrs. Worthington swept up the stairs towards the thuds and grunts, it was Gabriel who broke the tense silence.
    "It's been a while since we've seen Jonathan," he said in a falsely cheery voice.
    Clenching his fists, Derek walked back down to the kitchen. Not only was he sent to the stables, he was now banished from the house. The next logical step would be for Mrs. Worthington to send him away completely. While he didn't like being under her rule, the idea of being homeless and without a useful trade scared him.
    Beth's soft voice came from the stairwell. "I'll hang those rugs out back for you."
    "Yeah. I'll get them after I clean the carriage house." He stopped by the table where his bread and honey still sat, but his appetite had vanished.
    Leaving the rest of his meal untouched, Derek left the house, feeling for the shed key in his hip pocket. He unlocked the door and pulled it open.
    Tossing a couple rags into the bucket on the shelf, he picked it up and closed the door. As he filled it with water and walked back to the carriage house, his mind raced with Mrs. Worthington's announcement.
    The fact that she was in a bad mood and taking it out on Derek was nothing new, but she'd never come so close to telling him to leave. She was often cruel, not letting him eat, or locking him in his room or, worse, the attic. But to send him away all together was beyond cruel.
    Setting the bucket down, Derek knelt by the wagon and began scrubbing the mud off the sides. The more he thought, the harder he scrubbed.
    With the fervor of his anger, cleaning took next to no time. The wagon was cleaned and oiled, the floor swept, and the shelves straightened.
    As he set the bucket of water on the end of the shelf, the brackets groaned and gave, dumping the dirty water all over the wagon and Derek. The riding crops and hardware fell with a thump and the lap blankets slumped into the muddy water that was pooling on the floor.
    Growling, Derek kicked the bucket, sending it skidding across the floor. "Just make my day even better!" he yelled, storming out of the carriage house to get some nails. Throwing