Elizabeth followed in the wake of the plump housekeeper’s swinging skirts as they descended the stairs to the second floor. They had been through the entire house and she had found nothing to fault in the upkeep—only in the cold, sterile atmosphere. There was no warmth, no laughter, no life. Not even in the nursery. Especially in the nursery—except for the baby and her wet nurse.
Elizabeth’s forehead furrowed. Miss Brown should definitely be replaced. Her original unpleasant impression of the woman had been reinforced upon their second meeting a few minutes ago. She quailed inside at the thought of facing Justin with such a request, particularly after last night, but for the children’s sake she would do it. The memory of Sarah’s pinched little face would haunt her until she did.
The housekeeper turned left at the bottom of the stairs and Elizabeth looked about to get her bearings. She needed to become familiar with the large house quickly if she was to perform her wifely duties well.
“Mrs. Jeffers?”
“Yes, madam?”
“I don’t recall this room.” Elizabeth paused in front of the door beside her. “Have I seen it?”
“No, madam.”
Elizabeth gave the woman a look of gentle rebuke. “I asked to see the entire house, Mrs. Jeffers. That includes this room.” She reached for the doorknob and twisted her wrist—her hand slid on the cool metal. “It’s locked!”
“Yes, madam.”
Elizabeth frowned at the stilted answer. “Unlock it, please.” She stepped back to give the woman room.
“I cannot do that, madam.”
Elizabeth stiffened. Was the woman defying her? Was this some sort of test of her authority in this house? She lifted her chin and held out her hand. “Give me the key, Mrs. Jeffers.”
The woman’s face flushed. “Mr. Randolph has the only key, madam.”
“Mr. Randolph?”
“Yes, madam.”
“I see.” Elizabeth slid her gaze back to the door. Why should it be locked? What was in there? She squared her shoulders and turned back to the housekeeper. It was time to establish her position as mistress of this house. “I think an explanation is in order, Mrs. Jeffers. What exactly is this room? And why is it locked?”
The housekeeper’s face tightened. “It’s the bridal chamber, madam. And it’s been locked since…well… since the first Mrs. Randolph died. Mr. Randolph himself locked the door and walked away. It’s not been opened since.”
Elizabeth focused on the mundane to hide her shock. “You do not clean the room?”
“No, madam.”
“I see.” The pain she had seen on Justin’s face in the nursery flashed into Elizabeth’s mind. “He must have loved her very much.”
The housekeeper stiffened. “It’s not for me to say, madam.”
Elizabeth bit her lip and frowned—she hadn’t meant to speak that thought aloud. “No, of course it’s not, Mrs. Jeffers. I didn’t mean to—”
“I’ve found you, mum!”
Elizabeth turned toward a breathless Trudy and smiled her gratitude for the opportune interruption. “What is it, Trudy?”
“Beggin’ your pardon, mum.” The panting maid halted in front of Elizabeth and bobbed her imitation of a curtsy. “Madame Duval is here for your fittin’. I showed her to your room.”
“Oh, my! I’d completely forgotten.” Elizabeth started down the hall, then stopped, and turned back toward the housekeeper. “Mrs. Jeffers, I’d like to continue with a thorough examination of the linen stores after luncheon.”
“As you wish, madam.”
Elizabeth hurried away.
Penelope Jeffers blew out a gust of relief and looked at the young maid. “You came in the nick o’ time, Trudy! She was askin’ about the locked door.”
“The locked door?” Trudy watched Elizabeth disappear around the far corner of the hallway. “Do you suppose he ain’t told her about—?”
“The less said about the likes of Margaret Randolph the better!” The housekeeper started off down the hall.
Trudy fell into step beside her. “Well she’s goin’ to hear about her someday. Someone is certain to gossip when they start socializin’ an’ then—”
“And then Mr. Randolph will explain. It has aught to do with you, Trudy.” The housekeeper gave her a fierce look. “You keep your place, missy! And don’t you be actin’ like that uppity stick of a children’s nurse she brought with her. What a one to put on airs! And mean…” Penelope Jeffers’s voice shook with anger. “It’s criminal the way she treats that poor little girl in her care. And Mr. Randolph too wrapped up in his own miseries to notice what’s going on under his very own—”
“There you are, Mrs. Jeffers! I’ve been searching for you.”
The housekeeper jerked to a dead stop. “Land o’ Goshen, Owen, you needn’t scare a body out of their wits!” She glared at the silver-haired butler standing in her path. “What is it?”
“It’s Cook.” Owen gave the housekeeper an apologetic little smile. “She’s having one of her little moods.”
Penelope Jeffers gave a disgusted snort and raised her hands into the air. “I knew there was trouble brewin’ in the kitchen this morning! I could smell it in the air.” She hurried off toward the back stairs with her wide skirts swishing violently back and forth, and Trudy and Owen close on her heels.
The food was delicious, but Elizabeth was only toying with it. Justin took a last bite and laid down his fork. “You seem distracted, Elizabeth. Is something troubling you?”
She gave up the pretense of eating. “I’m sorry, Justin. I didn’t mean to be rude. I do have something I would like to discuss with you. When it’s convenient of course.” She glanced up at him.
There it was again! Justin stared into Elizabeth’s dark-blue eyes while the elusive something hovered at the fringe of his mind. What was it? He frowned, and she looked down at her plate. The thought disappeared. It just dissolved away before he could grasp it.
Justin threw his napkin onto the table, and looked back over at Elizabeth. There were faint dark circles under her eyes—evidence that she had not rested well last night in spite of his absence from her bedroom. Perhaps she was ill. Perhaps that was what she wanted to discuss with him. He didn’t like the worm of fear that wiggled through him at the thought. He reached for the silver bell on the table beside him. “I’ve time now, Elizabeth. I’ll have Owen fetch our wraps, and we’ll stroll through the gardens and discuss whatever is troubling you as we walk. The weather has warmed considerably and the outside air will do us both good.”
Elizabeth did her best to hide the nervous fear that Justin’s closeness caused—after her avowals of last evening she dare not let it show. She took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air and concentrated on the bricks in the path. That one was a darker red than the others. And that one had a small chip out of one corner…
A bird in the trees to the left of the path twittered softly. Elizabeth lifted her head and searched for it among the branches.
Justin pointed. “It’s a robin. The first I’ve seen this year. Spring is on its way.”
“Yes. The first robin makes it official. Oh, and look! It’s a primrose.” Elizabeth rushed forward. Her long skirts billowed out around her as she squatted down at the edge of the path and reached out to touch the petals of a flower pushing its way through a shadowed patch of snow. “Isn’t it beautiful? It’s like a promise.”
“A promise?” Justin glanced down at the small patch of bright yellow in the snow. “In what way?”
Elizabeth’s pleasure in the moment flew. When would she learn not to blurt out what she was thinking! She glanced up at Justin. “It was only a foolish thought. Nothing you would care to hear about.”
“Oh, but I would. Please explain.” He folded his arms across his chest, leaned back against the thick trunk of a maple tree and crossed one ankle over the other. His attitude said more clearly than words he was prepared to stay here until she complied.
Elizabeth held back a sigh. “Very well. I simply meant that this flower, blooming as it is in the midst of the cold, dark and dead things that are all around it, is like a promise from God. A promise that life and beauty and the lovely things of this world go on in spite of…well…in spite of the cold, dark things that happen to us.” She looked away, then placed the fingers of one hand on her forehead and closed her eyes. Why hadn’t she made up a different story? Now he would add foolish whimsical romantic to his other low opinions of her.
Elizabeth braced herself for a scornful comment, but there was only silence. She gathered her courage and looked up. There was an odd expression on Justin’s face. He looked stunned. No, that was too strong a word. He looked…shaken. Why? What was wrong? What had she done now? She rose to her feet and leaned forward to brush at the bits of snow clinging to her cloak. “I had better go in now.” She turned toward the house.
“Not yet, Elizabeth. You haven’t told me what it is you wish to discuss with me.”
She halted and swept her gaze up to meet his.
“Are you chilled?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s only that I told Mrs. Jeffers I wanted to go over the linen stores. And I promised Sarah I would visit her this afternoon and mend her doll.” She took a deep breath. “Actually, it’s Sarah I wanted to discuss with you. I’m concerned about her.”
“Oh?” Justin straightened away from the tree. “Because she is mute?”
“Certainly not!” She shot him a look of pure indignation. “It has nothing to do with her inability to speak.”
“I see. But there is a problem?”
“I believe so.”
He studied her for a moment, then nodded. “You’re very solemn, Elizabeth. I think I must hear what you have to say. Mrs. Jeffers can wait.” He waved his hand, indicating the path ahead. “Shall we continue our stroll while you tell me what is troubling you?” It wasn’t a question. She nodded and started down the path away from the house.
Justin fell into step beside her. She glanced up at him, then looked back down at the ground. It was obvious she was nervous. He kept silent and walked along beside her, giving her time to relax—if she could relax when she was with him. He frowned at the thought, and clasped his hands behind his back.
“I don’t know how to begin.”
Her voice was soft, hesitant. He glanced over at her, and she rushed into speech.
“I don’t want to be presumptuous, Justin. And, of course, I know that as Sarah’s father you know—far better than I—what is best for her. And yet, I…well…I…”
“Elizabeth?”
“Yes?”
“Will it be easier for you if I tell you I am not Sarah’s father?”
She jerked to a stop and gaped up at him. “But I—You’re not?”
“No. The children are not mine.” Justin looked down at her shocked face and cursed himself for a fool. He was not ready for this. He had not intended to tell her at all. This woman played havoc with all his plans!
“I don’t understand.”
She was looking at him as if he had suddenly turned into one of those ogres they had discussed yesterday. Justin raked his hands through his hair. “It’s quite simple. I married the children’s mother while she was carrying Mary.” He could hear the bitterness creeping into his voice, feel his facial muscles stiffening as he spoke of Margaret. He started off down the path. “Sarah has been in my care for a little less than a year—and, of course, for the first seven months of that time her mother was alive.” The anger was building in him. Justin cleared his throat and made a conscious effort to relax. “She…died…a few weeks after Mary was born.”
“Oh, Justin, I’m so sorry.” Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. She stopped to wipe them away. “I don’t know what to say. It must have hurt terribly to lose her after so little time.”
“I prefer not to discuss it, Elizabeth.” Justin pressed his handkerchief into her hand and moved on. He kicked a clump of dirty snow off the path so her skirts would not become soiled. The violence of the gesture relieved his anger a little. “Tell me what is troubling you about Sarah.”
Elizabeth dabbed the tears from her eyes, crumpled Justin’s handkerchief into a damp wad in the palm of her hand and followed after him. “It’s Miss Brown. I’d like to replace her.”
“Replace her?” He stopped so abruptly Elizabeth almost ran into him.
“Yes.” She adjusted the hood that had slipped to her shoulders. “She’s bad for Sarah.”
He stared down at her, intrigued by the sudden change in her voice. “You sound very certain of that.”
“I am.”
Justin’s left brow rose. This was a different Elizabeth. One he’d not seen before. He fought back a smile. “Perhaps you had better explain.”
She nodded and lifted her skirts over a damp spot on the path. “The thing that most concerns me is that Miss Brown frightens Sarah.”
Justin’s eyebrows shot skyward. He gave Elizabeth another quick assessing glance. She was dead serious. “Go on.” He clasped his hands behind his back and walked forward beside her as she explained.