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“I wish I knew what to say.” He gestured toward the door. “Everything’s going to change the moment she walks through that door, and I wish it didn’t have to.”
“I’ll remember that. It’s all I’ll have, but it’s something.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” I asked.
“Being you. Grace personified.”
Papa entered the room, pulling us from our reverie. He was dressed in one of his best suits. We all seemed to think these Masterses and their fat purses needed to be impressed. It bothered me. Yet here I was in my nicest dress, so who was I to talk?
“James, are you ready?” Papa asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Papa’s face, lined from his years on this earth, creased further but he didn’t comment.
James straightened his tie. “Shall we, then?” He looked over at me and before I knew what I was doing, I’d stepped forward and taken his hand. I said into his ear, “Be brave, dear James. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”
I looked over at Papa. His expression had softened. He knew what was between us, I thought. Mama had told him. Of course she had. There were no secrets between them. Regardless, they were helpless to save me from myself. There was nothing anyone could do except love me. I took comfort in that love, not only from them but in the adoring eyes of James. He loved me. I knew it. I’d known it since the kiss. I would have to be satisfied with knowing the truth.
* * *
After a few minutesof staring blankly at the typewriter, I decided to go downstairs and see how Lizzie was faring with preparing our midday meal. I wasn’t sure where my mother or Delphia had gotten to this morning, as I’d slept too late for breakfast. Having endured another restless night with sleep eluding me until dawn, I’d not been wakened to the usual sounds of early morning.
Lizzie and Mrs. Wu were sitting together at the kitchen table, a pot of tea between them. Mrs. Wu, sitting more often than standing these days, was in the process of cutting a pile of potatoes into wedges; Lizzie shelled peas from our garden. When I was a child, the sight of piles of empty pea pods made me sad. They’d been discarded after giving shelter, not even provided the courtesy of providing nourishment to the very people who grew them. One time, I’d mentioned this to Lizzie, and she’d allowed me to eat one of the shells raw while warning me that they would disappoint. I’d had to agree with her. They were tough and flavorless. However, that didn’t change my opinion. It still seemed like a waste.
“Addie girl, what brings you down to the kitchen? Can we make you something? Your mother said you missed breakfast.” Lizzie’s mixture of English and Irish accents were as thick today as they had been almost three decades before when she’d followed my father and Jasper across the seas to make a new home in the States. I’d noticed she seemed forlorn lately. She missed Florence, I’m sure, although she never complained. Sending her daughter to university had been a dream come true, and she wasn’t about to do anything to lessen Florence’s enjoyment of higher education.
“Thank you, but I don’t need you to make anything,” I said. “Would you take pity upon me and let me sneak a roll?”
“Yes, dearie. Look in the pantry. There are scones left from breakfast and a ramekin of jam I set aside for the new gardener. He’s young, don’t you know, and always hungry.” Lizzie pushed a strand of her silver hair away from her flushed pink cheeks. The kitchen was warm this time of year, even in the mornings. She was plump and sweet, our Lizzie, and seemingly tireless. She and Mrs. Wu seemed impervious to age, their boundless energy nourishing a household of staff and family.
“We have a new gardener?” I asked.
“Yes, quite a bonny lad, as my Irish mother would have said, God rest her soul.” Lizzie’s eyes darted upward to heaven. “His name’s Jesse, like the outlaw. Can you imagine a mother naming her son Jesse?”
“It seems a nice name to me,” I said.
“He’s big here.” Mrs. Wu held up her skinny arm and mimicked a muscle. “This Jesse works in his undershirt. Vanity is no good, Addie.”
“But who are we to tell him to put his shirt on?” Lizzie asked. The ladies cackled in unison.
“I’m not sure if you two should be allowed in the garden,” I said, amused despite my aching heart.
“We must get the peas for dinner,” Mrs. Wu said. “We sacrifice for the family.”
“Indeed.” Lizzie nodded. “What we wouldn’t do for all of you.”
Laughing, I went to the pantry to forage for the aforementioned scones. When I returned, the ripe scent of a working man greeted me. Near the doorway, a man dressed in overalls and an undershirt stood by the kitchen door. Lizzie had gotten up from the table to pour him a glass of lemonade.
I took a good look at this bonny lad. He was handsome, with caramel-colored hair streaked with golden highlights and bright green eyes. His jawline was strong and there was an air about him of ambition in the firm set of his mouth and glint in his eyes when his gaze meandered my way.Predator. This was the word that came to my mind, as they did sometimes, playing before my eyes in the font of my typewriter.
“This is Miss Addie,” Lizzie said to him. “One of Lord Barnes’s daughters.”
Jesse nodded, polite as could be. Yet a shiver ran up my spine. “Miss Barnes, how do you do?”
“Very well, thank you. Nice to meet you, Jesse. You must be doing well. Those are some pretty peas.” I gestured to the bowl on the table.
