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“Aggie didn’t want me to come,” Maggie admitted. “She said I had a home with her and her sister Winifred, but well, things have changed.”

“Please, come and sit by the fire, and I’ll toast you some bread and cheese and make a pot of tea.”

“I couldn’t eat anything,” Maggie said, but she approached with a nervous glance at the dog and took Lizzie’s hand.

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Maggie gave a strained smile.

“Please be seated.” The kettle was already over the fire, so Lizzie set about preparing the pot and setting out the cups. “My letter must have surprised you a good deal,” she said, hoping she was striking the right note and not embarrassing her sister-in-law.

“I – yes,” Maggie answered stiltedly. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read it. Enough to learn it by heart.” Her gaze lowered, and she sat in perfect silence as Lizzie poured the kettle.

“You were happy at the boarding house?” Lizzie prompted when Maggie clammed up again.

“Not happy exactly,” Maggie frowned. “Most of the time I was miserable as sin, but Aggie’s a kind soul and her sister was grateful for all the help she could get, getting the place up and running. I was kept busy which didn’t really give me time to brood.”

“You said things had changed. Can I ask what things?” Lizzie asked curiously.

“Well, your letter changed things a good deal,” Maggie answered frankly, her brow wrinkling. “And something else I never expected,” she confessed ruefully. “Aggie met a man, and they started walking out together of an evening.” She lapsed into silence a moment before starting up again in a rush. “We shared an attic room, you see, and being left alone got me to thinking again.”

Maggie fiddled with her glove. “Aggie was going to marry and move on with her life, but I was stuck. Married yet not married.” She shot a glance at Lizzie. “And of course,” she choked, “I kept thinking Frank had moved on. With that woman and that hardened my heart against anything else.” She broke off as Lizzie passed her a cup and saucer of tea. “Then I got your letter.” She stared at Lizzie with mounting curiosity. “I must say you’re not at all what I would have expected for Benedict,” she said slowly.

“Because I’m not pretty?” Lizzie asked without resentment.

Maggie promptly blushed up to the roots of her hair. “No! That wasn’t – ” she broke off in confusion. “It’s just – , forgive me. I don’t know what I meant.”

“That’s alright,” Lizzie assured her. “You’re not what I was expecting either.” Maggie reminded her of a Renaissance painting with her vivid coloring.

Maggie opened her mouth and then closed it again. “It’s not fair for me to ask you for an explanation when I could give you none,” she admitted wryly.

Lizzie smiled. “It’s just everyone described you as such a wrung-out drudge,” she admitted. “But you’re so young and vibrant and beautiful.”

Maggie’s color ebbed and flowed. “That’s kind of you to say. I think I have got back a bit of my color. Winifred was so grateful for everything I could do about the place. She couldn’t praise me highly enough. I got the chance to catch my breath and start taking a bit of care of myself. You know, just small things like putting cream on my hands and face of an evening. Time to wash and brush my hair out nice.”

“Frank took you for granted,” Lizzie said. “That’s what Benedict said.”

“Yes, he did,” Maggie agreed. “But I let them walk all over me. His father and that latest woman of his wore me down, expecting me to fetch and carry for them while Frank turned a blind eye. ‘They’ll be leaving us soon’ he’d say. ‘Just a few more days, Mags. Then they’ll be gone.’” She sighed. “But days became weeks and weeks became months. Frank likes things easy, and he was never any good at standing up to his old man. Jack’s not more than just a lad, but in the past, Benedict had always been there. He gave his father short shrift, I can tell you. Always ran him off in the end, but there,” she sighed. “Ben was in prison, and so they hung on and on and just wouldn’t leave.” Maggie pulled a face. “I got so’s I couldn’t take it anymore. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if Gracie hadn’t had that daughter of hers with her.”

“Gracie is Daphne’s mother?”

“That’s right,” Maggie agreed. “And a nasty pair of vipers they were too, with their sly comments and constant jibes. I reckon Daphne must have told her mum from the outset that she wanted my Frank. Pa would love to sink his hooks into Frank good and proper,” she said bitterly. “He’s a lazy old villain and no mistake. No work in him. If he could leech off Frank for the rest of his days, he would.”

Maggie’s expression became tighter, and she lifted her chin. “I thought she’d succeed too, with me out of the picture. But then I got your letter.” She swallowed and darted a look at Lizzie. “You still stand by everything you say?”

“I do,” Lizzie assured her. “In fact, I confronted Daphne about it.”

“You never did!”

“How do you imagine I got this?” Lizzie asked gesturing to the yellowing bruise about her eye.

Maggie set her cup down with a clatter. “You fought?”

“Well,” Lizzie said dryly. “She punched me in the eye, and I survived to tell the tale. Daphne fled into the night.”

Maggie gasped and beheld her with open awe. “Why, she could make two of you!” Then Lizzie’s words seemed to register. “You mean she’s gone?” she asked excitedly. Clearly, she had not relished the prospect of seeing Daphne again.

“Oh yes,” Lizzie agreed. “Long gone. But if you’ll allow me to advise you, Maggie, I do not think you should not be in any hurry to step back into your previous role.” She regarded her sister-in-law frankly.