Page 23 of If a Lady Lingers

“I can’t give any answers.” She hugged herself more tightly and slumped impossibly lower in her seat. “I’m not a boy.”

“That doesn’t matter.” When the girl shot her a look as if she were a bedlamite, Daisy added, “Your opinion is just as valid and important as any boy.”

“That’s not it,” she whispered.

“Then why does it matter if you’re a girl? I’m a girl, and I have all kinds of—”

She angrily shot out the answer, “Why should theboysbe the only ones to get to live in the new house?”

The girl’s words pierced her. That little Martha should feel the injustices of being a woman in this world at such a tender age—

Daisy blinked hard and nodded, then reached to fuss with the girl’s untied pink ribbon. “I know it’s unfair, sometimes, to be a girl when boys receive so many opportunities that girls don’t,” she said softly. “Like this house.”

Martha sniffed and nodded.

“But while this first house is just for Mr. Whitby and the boys,” Daisy told her, sharing her secret, “there’s going to be a second house, and that one will be only for the girls. A very special house, I promise.”

That secret didn’t appease her. “Why can’t us girls be first? Why are we always second?”

A very, very good question.And not just about the houses. “Well, because Mr. Whitby plans on living in the first house with the boys, to watch over them and make certain they’re safe and cared for. There’s no one right now to live with the girls. Mr. Whitby needs to find someone, which means that your house comes second.”

“Would you live with us?” Hope lit her face. “Just us girls?”

“I wish I could.” She smiled sadly and dropped her hand away from the ribbon with a tap to Martha’s upturned nose. “I have my own house where I live with my Papa and little brothers. They need me to watch over them and make them behave.” She patted the girl’s leg. “But I’ll make certain that when the girls’ house is built that you’ll have a beautiful room in it, bright with flowers and sunlight. Maybe even a canopy bed and shelves filled with dolls. Would you like that?”

Martha threw herself into Daisy’s embrace and flung her arms around her neck to hug her tightly. “Oh, thank you, miss!” she whispered into Daisy’s ear. “Thank you!”

Daisy closed her eyes against her tears and nuzzled her cheek against the girl’s hair. Then she released her and shifted back, choking out, “How about some peppermints now, hmm?”

Without having to signal to Whitby, he came forward and held out the bag to Martha. He encouraged her to take more with a second nod of the bag toward her. A teary smile broke across the little girl’s face as she looked down at the pink and white peppermints in her hand. She pinched one and put it into her mouth, letting it slowly melt on her tongue.

“That’s why I put so much work and time into the school.” Whitby leaned over to speak softly into Daisy’s ear. “I’d work for weeks for a hug and a smile like that.”

Daisy swallowed down the knot in her throat and managed to whisper, “Me too.”

With an affectionate squeeze of her arm, he handed out the last of the peppermints randomly to the children, although Daisy noticed that the girls received twice as many as the boys. That little gesture earned him even more space in her heart.

He crumpled the paper wrapper and tossed it onto the teacher’s desk.

“That’s it then,” he announced as he wiped his hands. “Go on down to the kitchen now. I’m certain that Mrs. Smith has a special treat waiting for you.” He paused, stirring impatience in the children. “Cinnamon biscuits!”

A cheer went up from the children as they raced from the schoolroom. All of them wore bright smiles, including Martha. In their wake, a quiet stillness fell over the room, as if it were pausing to catch its breath before they all came charging back in again for class tomorrow morning.

“Did you get all the answers you needed?” Whitby asked as he slowly approached her between the desks.

She scanned over the pages in her notebook where she’d scribbled down the children’s suggestions. “More than enough.” Her lips twitched the start of a smile. “Although I don’t think we’ll be putting a rope swing in the stair hall.”

He feigned disappointment as he slipped his arms around her. “But I thought that idea was especially brilliant.”

He wanted to kiss her, she could sense it, so she slid her arms around his neck to give him permission. She’d come to appreciate his kisses and wouldn’t deny herself a few moments of a stolen embrace.

“Hmm,” she conceded. “Perhaps I can be persuaded to put one in the courtyard.”

A grin lit up his face, and she couldn’t help but laugh even as he tenderly kissed her. He tasted of affection and joy, all those wonderful things she’d come to associate with him.

When the kiss ended and she pulled back just far enough to gaze up into his bright blue eyes, her laughter faded. She somberly brushed her fingertips through the soft hair at his nape. “But let’s get that second house for the girls built quickly, all right?”

“Count on it.”