“Don’t say it.” The words were hissed.
“But—”
“I said don’t! Don’t say anything at all! Understood?”
Her mother whirled on her, and the rage in her eyes burned into Martha. She gulped and did her best to keep the tears at bay. Mother hated tears.
“I don’t have time for this, Martha. Don’t you understand?”
Enough was enough! “Don’t have time forwhat,Mother? Church? Talking about Father? Me? What exactly don’t you have time for?”
Her mother’s eyes widened and then narrowed. The ensuing silence settled over Martha like a heavy blanket.
“I’ll forgive you for your tone of voice, daughter—this once—because we are in mourning. But don’t ever speak to me like that again. Go on to church without me.” She turned and walked away.
Several seconds later, the door to Mother’s private study clicked shut.
“Allow me, miss.” Harriet led her back out to the main hall. Another door shut.
And Martha was left with her thoughts in the cavernous space. Alone.
Again.
GARDENOFTHEANGELS, REDROCKSPARK
“Are you going to tell me about whatever it is that has put that crease in your forehead, or should I just pretend everything is fine, eat my lunch, and sip my tea like a good gentleman?” Jacob waved a hand in front of Martha’s face.
The carriage had stopped rolling and he wasn’t sure whether she was in the mood for the picnic or not. Had he pushed too hard?
Pink filled her cheeks and she glanced down at her hands. “I’m sorry, Jacob.”
“Well? Should we head back, or do you want me to get out the food?” He perched on the edge of the seat.
When she didn’t respond, he hopped down from the carriage and held a hand out for hers. “Come on. This will be good for both of us.”
“You’re right.” She took his hand and he helped her down.
Then he walked her over to a grassy area that wasn’t too prickly looking. “You wait here. I’ll go get our things.” He jogged back over to the carriage and nodded at Walter. “Would you like some food? I brought plenty.”
“That is much appreciated, Mr. Duncan, but I’m not sure Mrs. Jankowski would approve,” the man stated from the driver’s seat.
Jacob rubbed his jaw. There had to be a way around the stiff rules of society. Aha! “I’ve got it. Since you are technically playing the role of driverandchaperone, then you should be allowed to eat. The chaperone always does.”
The slightest of smiles worked its way up Walter’s face. “Well then, I agree.” The older man climbed down from his perch and assisted Jacob in unloading the carriage.
Once he had a colorful checkered cloth on the ground, Jacob placed the basket in the center. “Shall we eat?” He offered a hand to Martha as she gracefully lowered herself—and her massive skirts—to the cloth, and then took a seat on the ground and crossed his legs. “Help yourself, Walter.” Jacob handed the man a plate.
The driver’s eyes twinkled. “I will wait until you two have served yourselves.”
“Nonsense, Walter.” Martha waved a hand. “Please. We can all fill our plates. Let’s not stand on ceremony today, all right? It’s wearisome.”
“Yes, miss.”
All three of them helped themselves to fruit, cheese, tiny little sandwiches, and pickles. Then Jacob filled three glasses with the lemonade he’d brought. “Mind if I pray?”
“Not at all.” Martha’s sweet smile caught his attention.
He gave thanks for the food and then their little trio echoed in amens. Walter nodded at them and took his plate and glass back to the carriage. “I’ll be over there if you need me, miss.”
