She found herself wishing most ridiculously that he had turned out to be a crotchety old man with bad teeth and no hair.
Forcing her eyes to stay focused on her plate, she cleared her throat, and the sound made everyone jump. All of the family was present, all except for Mary, and Madeline wondered uncomfortably if this silence was normal.
“Why is everyone so quiet?” Penelope asked.
Madeline dabbed at her lips with a damask napkin, curious as to how Adam would answer the question.
His voice was deep and calm. “We’re hungry, Penelope. That’s all.”
“But we’re always hungry at supper.”
“Perhaps it’s because we have a guest, and we’re all trying to be on our best behavior.”
Penelope lifted her sweet gaze toward Madeline and smiled, then returned quietly to her eating.
A hush fell over the room again. Silverware clinked against china plates, the clock ticked audibly, and Madeline knew that they were all aware of the mix-up, and had now had time to discuss it privately amongst themselves…to whisper and pass judgments about her. Did they believe Madeline had been involved in the manipulation? Did they think she was deceitful or self-serving? Or did they suspect the embarrassing truth and sympathize with her, as Mary had?
She dabbed at her mouth again with the napkin and decided it was long past time to make some polite conversation. “Jacob, Mary told me you were working in the fields today. What are you planting this time of year?”
The young man across the table, dressed in a pale blue waistcoat, set down his fork before he spoke. “I finished planting potatoes in the high field, Miss Oxley. Then I rode over to Mr. Carter’s place to help him plant his.”
Madeline noticed the lack of resemblance between Adam and his stepson, Jacob. Jacob possessed fair features—golden hair and blue eyes—while Adam and the other children had strikingly dark coloring.
Madeline was curious, all of a sudden, about Jacob’s mother and Adam’s late wife. Had she been flaxen haired and beautiful like Diana?
Then Madeline thought about her own appearance—her mousy brown hair, dull with frizzy curls, and her freckled complexion. It was the first time in her life she wished she had been blessed with the kind of beauty that Diana possessed. The kind of beauty that turned gentlemen’s heads and rendered them speechless when they first laid eyes upon her.
“Do you have a large crop?” she asked Jacob, forcing herself to disregard such foolish, frivolous thoughts, for she had never put much stock in appearances. She’d always credited herself with having more depth of character than that.
Besides, there was no point dreaming about what could never be.
“Large enough to last through the winter.”
She smiled at him, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed Adam wipe his mouth with a napkin, then toss it down as if he were finished. “We raise only enough potatoes to meet our needs.” She suspected he was being polite for the children’s sake, not hers. “We don’t market them.”
“Whatdoyou market?” she asked, deciding she would not let him intimidate her with his silences any longer. She would look him in the eye and if she wanted to know something about Nova Scotian farming or the dykes or even if she wanted to hear him admit that he’d been rude to her that day, she was going to say what she pleased. “Corn?”
“No. It’s the same with corn as it is with potatoes—only enough to meet our own needs. The marshes here are better suited toward pasture and meadow.” He picked up his glass and looked away, as if he were finished not only with his dinner, but with her questions as well.
She couldn’t help pressing him. “Animal husbandry, then? And hay?”
“Yes, Miss Oxley. Hay.”
Adam turned his attention back to his dinner, and Madeline could see that he had no interest whatsoever in talking to her, nor any interest in even looking at her.
She would have liked to call it indifference, but as she watched him and the way he looked about the room, the way his dark brows drew together in a frown, she realized with some annoyance that it was more than that. The man flat out resented her presence here at his table, for she was the reason Diana was not here, and he was obviously still angry about that. He only felt obligated to see to Madeline’s welfare because she was Diana’s sister and he didn’t want to jeopardize his future with her. Like Madeline herself, Adam was probably thinking that she could one day be the children’s aunt, and for that reason alone, he wanted to keep things affable.
Adam’s continued silence for the rest of the meal forced Madeline to think more seriously about what she should do. She couldn’t live in a house where she was not wanted. She’d lived like that in her father’s house long enough. And worse, she could not stay here and watch Diana arrive and live happily ever after with Adam and his children.
Madeline decided with firm conviction she would look for another situation as soon as she could. She would be long gone by the time Diana arrived to claim her prize.
Inside the barn the next day, Adam lifted a heavy sack of seed grain onto his shoulder and carried it to the wagon. He set it down with a loudthwackand mentally kicked himself for being so hard on Madeline during the past twenty-four hours.
What was wrong with him? He used to be better with people, women in particular. He used to enjoy charming them and making them happy, and he had always presumed they were honest and forthright, for his mother, God rest her soul, had been a good, kind woman.
That was before his break with Diana, and before his marriage to Jane.
Unfortunately, Jane had taught him that not all women were what they seemed, and he had to be exceedingly careful. In the beginning, not long after Diana had married Sir Edward, Jane had been a rock of sensible wisdom and understanding, helping Adam through that painful time. Recently widowed and looking after her son, Jacob, she had shared her bed with Adam, and it was there where they both found comfort during difficult times.
