Chapter 20

When hills are free from snow

 

Margaret made a point to bring Ivy’s breakfast to her room the next morning. Maxwell stood beside her, tray in hand, as she rapped a knuckle on the door to the room that used to be her mother’s. After a moment, a tiny voice invited them in. There was no key in the lock this time, no apprehension, only the unmistakable cloud of tragedy and fear that resonated between Margaret and Ivy.

“Thank you, Maxwell,” Margaret said after the butler slid the tray onto the small table in the corner. He nodded and left without a word.

“Good morning, Ivy,” Margaret said to her friend, who sat on the edge of the bed

“Hello, miss,” Ivy answered. Their greeting was muted, their happiness at meeting subdued.

“Breakfast?” Margaret gestured for the table. “I brought enough for both of us.”

Ivy smiled but shook her head. “No thank you, ma’am.”

The girl looked distant, not altogether aware of where she was or why. She avoided looking Margaret in the eyes and kept glancing to the dark corner of the room. Margaret looked over, wondering if there was something she was not seeing, but there was nothing. When she looked back Ivy was staring at her.

Margaret plucked a deck of cards from the tray. “How about another game of Piquet?” she asked.

“Later, perhaps.” She pressed a hand into her stomach and Margaret felt her own stomach lurch. She couldn’t imagine the emotions running through Ivy’s head.

“You don’t have to do this,” Margaret said suddenly, and then wondered if she was just making things worse. “If someone is forcing you—”

“No one is forcing me to do this,” Ivy said suddenly.

“That is good.” Margaret swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Perhaps you need more time then.”

Ivy shook her head. “I know what I need to do.”

“Does the baby’s father know that you are doing this?” Margaret asked.

“I do it for him.” Ivy twisted her fingers in front of her, dividing her attention between them, Margaret, and the dark corner of the room.

“So he is aware you are with child?” Margaret asked. “I can go tell Jonas you are unsure.”

“No, Miss Margaret!” Ivy nearly jumped up from her place on the bed. “I thank you for your kindness. But I need to do this on my own now.” Ivy’s gaze drifted to the corner again before she gave a marked nod, as if agreeing to something. Margaret looked again but still, nothing was there.

There was a gentle rap on the opposite side of the door and a moment later Jonas slipped into the room, Julia at his heels. The doctor brought his bag and the maid carried a second washbasin, a heap of towels, and a pitcher of water.

“Morning, Miss Ivy,” Jonas said, remaining on the opposite side of the bed. Nodding toward the doctor, Ivy kept her expression steady even as Julia began preparing for the procedure.