As the fall days passed by, each one dragging us inexorably toward the cold dead of winter, my unease increased.Animals had started to show up closer to the house now, and one morning I even found a dead mouse on mywindowsill.
Surely no hawk or wild bird would do that.
Until one day I saw her again.
The beautiful blonde woman.
This time, she came when we were at dinner. Ada had a headache and was lying in her bed, so there was no one left in the dining room to watch me. As I heard Gideon open the front door, I followed, gathering up my skirts and darting in the shadows on mouse-light feet.
When I got close to the entryway, I slipped quickly behind a heavy velvet curtain to listen.
"Thank you," the woman said, and I heard a crinkle of paper.
Her voice was lovely, like a songbird, and I peeped jealously out, watching in astonishment as Gideon drew a large emerald necklace from a square white packet.
"Your payment," she said. "The vial was very satisfactory."
"Good," Gideon said, in his usual harsh voice, holding up a jeweler's loup to examine the necklace. "It would be well for you to not be seen here again. It might raise suspicions."
She nodded, and as he put the tool away, apparently satisfied, I withdrew in some confusion.
He was telling hernotto return? How strange.
Was she not his. . .lover after all?
A dizzying feeling of relief engulfed me as I hurried back to my place at the dining table.
If there was no other woman. . .was it possible for my husband to come to loveme? There was still something about him that fascinated me, something about that barely-repressed masculine vitality, the way his eyes dragged down my body.
I fervently hoped he wouldn't hear the thud of my heart, see the slick perspiration on my forehead.
"Shall I take Ada a poultice after dinner?" I asked, eager to show how useful I could be.
Gideon barely looked at me. "No. I will take her anything she requires."
"Have you always been such a devoted brother?" I asked, hoping to get him to talk on any subject. "Were you the same as a child?"
There was something that moved in Gideon's dark eyes, something that jumped. But it wasn't anything gentle. It wasn't anything kind, even though it might amuse him.
"You are babbling, wife," was all he said.
I was chastened, but too buoyed by my discovery to be defeated.
After dinner, I went to my room and dug around in the small amount of possessions I had to find the headache remedy I’d made. Ada was the only one who had been kind to me and I was going to help her. And maybe then my husband would see my good qualities.
Clutching the medicine to my chest, I ascended the stairs to the west wing where Ada's bedroom was.
Surely if Gideon saw how I cared for his sister, he would begin to appreciate me.
But, to my surprise, Mariam tried to stop me as I rounded the corner. Her nightcap was on and she held a candle aloft.
"What are you doing, girl?" she asked, and I wondered again at the strange lack of proper respect the servants had for the lady of the house. "Go back to your bed if you know what's good for you."
"But I'm going to help Gideon’s sister," I protested, pulling away from her.
"What sister?" Mariam asked, but I was too eager to show myself worthy of Gideon's regard to attend to her.
What was she even referring to? Of course I meant Ada. Who else?
