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Sara darted through the kitchen, her face hot with humiliation. She ought to be used to this by now. She was a servant.

Yet it had shamed her when his gaze had traveled up from her worn boots, over her old dress, and came to rest on the oversized cap she wore to keep her hair away from her face.

She’d suddenly become aware of the frizzy curls sticking to her neck and forehead, the damp splotches on her gown, and the caustic scent of lye that hung about her like a cloud.

Making her way across the courtyard, she began to sort the linens, throwing them into piles with unnecessary force.

She’d accepted the reversal in her position years ago.

Why would she care how James Kinney saw her?

He was probably a snob in any case, and just because he happened to be a handsome snob shouldn’t matter in the least.

Evie snuck into the laundry shed again that afternoon.

Sara knew she ought to send her back to the schoolroom, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

The girl’s warm acceptance was a balm to her wounded spirit, her cheerful questions a welcome distraction from the memories that plagued her.

Just a few minutes, she promised herself.

A few minutes turned into a French lesson and a recitation of their favorite poems. They might have continued an hour or more if a shaggy red head hadn’t poked through the window of the shed.

“If I were you two, I’d consider shutting my trap and getting back to work.

The Goblin’s on the prowl.” He nodded in Evie’s direction.

“She come snooping around the stable, asking where you was.”

Evie shot a fearful look at the door before her gaze moved to Sara.

“You’d best get back to the schoolroom,” Sara said to Evie, “before she finds you here.”

“Quick,” Henry said with a glance over his shoulder. “She’s crossing the courtyard right now.”

“What?” Sara gasped. She peeked out the door. Miss Giblin was picking her way across the cobblestones, her eyes darting from side to side and two high spots of color in her cheeks.

Evie blanched, squeezing her eyes shut. “She’ll tell Papa for sure.”

The sound of Mrs. Cooper’s strident voice, joining the search and calling Evie’s name, had Sara moving in front of the girl, as though she’d protect her from punishment. “Don’t worry, my love. It’s me who kept you here, rambling on about poems. I’ll tell her so.”

Henry shook his head. “You’d be in for it then, Sara.

” He grabbed Evie’s arm and pulled her toward the window.

“C’mon, Evie. We’ll jump out here and cut through the mews.

” He gestured to the laneway behind the inn.

“Mayhap we can get you inside through the front door without anyone the wiser.” He grabbed the windowsill and pulled himself up. “But you can’t cry or make a fuss.”

“I won’t.” Evie looked outraged. She stretched her hands up for a boost.

Henry’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the welts on Evie’s palm. “Do what I tells you, and move fast.” He reached down for Evie’s uninjured hand and pulled her up on a crate, then he jumped out the back window.

Evie moved to follow him, but something held her back. “Sara, help me!”

She balanced precariously in the narrow windowsill, yanking at her skirt where a flounce had snagged on a nail.

“Stop,” Sara called, rushing to her side. “You’ll rip it, pulling like that.” She held on to Evie with one hand while the other felt for the place the fabric was caught and worked the fine wool off the nail.

“Rip it, Sara.” Evie’s voice was frantic now, her little body straining against Sara’s hold. “We’re running out of time.”

“O’Connor! What is the meaning of this?”

With a sinking heart, Sara looked over her shoulder. Mrs. Cooper stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips.

Evie was right. They’d run out of time.

“The court rules in favor of the defendant. Case dismissed.” Judge Roper followed his pronouncement with the heavy thud of his gavel.

James sunk to his seat, scarcely able to meet the eyes of his client. Wilkie’s face hid none of his despair. The land company had swindled the man, but they’d see no justice today. Andrew was supposed to hunt down the witness they needed. But Andrew wasn’t here.

“If the squatter isn’t out by spring, I’ll put in another injunction,” James told the man. “At no charge.”

Mr. Wilkie nodded, though every drooping line of his body said he’d given up.

From the corner of his eye, James saw Stephen Osgoode rise from his seat at the back of the room, and he steeled himself.

Osgoode headed the most successful firm in the city, but that didn’t stop him from keeping a close eye on his competition.

He was probably thrilled with James’s loss and would favor him with a round of patronizing and fabricated commiseration.

Osgoode approached, his narrow gaze assessing Wilkie before deciding the farmer was beneath his notice and addressing himself to James.

“Don’t know why you took this case on,” he began, looking quite satisfied with himself. “Buyer beware. Any fool could tell you that.” He glanced over at the defense and gave a friendly nod to the opposing barrister. “Besides, no profit in it.”

James looked away. Osgoode would never believe that there was more to practicing law than protecting the interests of the wealthy.

Weariness settled over James as the courtroom emptied.

He cleared the table of notes and correspondence, wishing he could organize and dismiss all his worries so easily.

He’d had no luck tracking Andrew down and now he’d lost the case they’d been working on for a month.

Picking up his papers, he rose to return to his office, taking a last glance out the window.

A fine carriage pulled up in front of the courthouse and a man emerged.

James caught sight of a familiar profile.

Ballantine, here to check on his sorry progress at finding Andrew.

James glanced at the sky. It was a fine day for October, sunny and dry. A day to stroll along the beach or drive in the country. Perhaps he’d escape out the back door and fetch Evie early. They’d go to their favorite spot on the lake. Ballantine could save his tongue-lashing for another day.

When he arrived at Cooper’s Inn, the parlor was deserted. Upon inquiry, he discovered the girls retired upstairs in the afternoons to draw and stitch. He stifled a smile, imagining Evie bent over a sampler. She’d jump at the chance to escape a few minutes early.

“Very well,” he told the maid in the entry. “Could you fetch Miss Evangeline? Tell her to bring her things and wait here. I’ll walk to the livery and order the carriage.”

When he returned, he expected to see Evie bouncing out the door, but there wasn’t a flicker of movement from within.

“Hello?” he called. “Mrs. Cooper?”

Rapid footsteps sounded on the landing. “Mr. Kinney.” Mrs. Cooper sailed down the stairs with a bright smile. “What brings you here so early? No trouble, I hope?” She glanced outside at the street as though a band of rioters might be trailing him.

“No, nothing like that,” he assured her. “But it’s such a fine day, I’m taking Evie on a drive. I already asked a maid to fetch her.”

Mrs. Cooper sent a harried glance over her shoulder. “I’ll see what’s keeping her.”

James paced the length of the front hall, poking his head into the private parlor. Empty. He suppressed a flicker of worry. What harm could come to her here?

Then he heard Mrs. Cooper’s shrill voice calling Evie from somewhere behind the inn.

James bolted around the tables in the front room, through the kitchen, and past a startled scullery maid to emerge into the courtyard.

He squinted against the sudden brightness, making out several figures in the far corner, Mrs. Cooper and the stern-faced governess among them.

His eyes lit on Evie’s flyaway braids with a rush of relief, and he strode forward.

“She does no harm here, Mrs. Cooper. Only practices her lessons and gets a bit of fresh air.”

James recognized the low, measured tones. The laundress again. She stepped into the sunlight, her chin thrust forward. Her eyes, as direct as ever, met her employer’s without a hint of hesitation. She was truly the most unusual servant he’d ever come across.

Mrs. Cooper reached out and grabbed Evie’s arm, her face red with anger. “Do you see the trouble you’ve caused?” she said, giving Evie a shake.

James surged forward, his only thought to separate that woman from his daughter. “What’s going on?” he said, jogging up to Evie’s side. Mrs. Cooper took one look at his face and stepped back, dropping Evie’s arm.

“Mr. Kinney. I didn’t see you there.”

“Papa,” Evie said, her voice equal parts fear and relief. She crowded close and James ran a comforting hand over her hair. He inhaled, unclenching his jaw and biting back the words that boiled to the surface. Evie was nervous enough without his anger adding to her tension.

“What happened?” He worked to keep his voice level.

“It’s not my fault, Mr. Kinney.” The governess stepped forward, her face pinched and flushed. “I do my best but when a child is determined to disappear...”

Disappear? He’d thought Evie safe under the supervision of Miss Giblin, and she’d disappeared?

Mrs. Cooper summoned a serene smile. “What a naughty little miss, not to come when she’s called. We were worried. I’m sure your Papa will have something to say about it.” There was an edge in the woman’s voice, but James refused to rise to her unspoken challenge.

“Come, poppet,” he said, turning away from the gathered group. “You can tell me about it on the way home.” He would have to take Evie to task, of course, but he had no intention of doing so in front of this audience.

It might have ended there, but for Miss Giblin, who blocked their path. “Mr. Kinney, if I am to maintain order in the schoolroom, there must be repercussions for insubordination.”

“I think there’ve been repercussions enough, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Giblin?” The laundress spoke, her voice clear and sharp.

For a moment, Miss Giblin looked taken aback but she quickly rallied. “What have you to say to anything?” She sent Mrs. Cooper a look full of challenge. “In England servants are dismissed for talking out of turn.”

Evie stopped midstride and turned to face the women, her little body tense with outrage. “It wasn’t her fault,” she said.

It was all the motivation James needed to follow his instincts. He’d failed in the courtroom today. Power and wealth had won over justice. He wouldn’t let it happen here.

He sent Evie a reassuring smile and stepped back into the fray. “Repercussions, you say?” He sent the laundress a keen glance before focusing his attention on Miss Giblin. “Do explain.”

Miss Giblin wasn’t easily cowed. “Your daughter refuses to stay in the schoolroom. Disappears for hours at a time. It’s untenable.”

James sent his daughter a swift glance and caught her guilty expression. “Evie should certainly ask permission before leaving the room.” Miss Giblin sent Evie a triumphant smile. “But,” he continued, “surely the children are allowed some time to play in the afternoon, once lessons are done?”

Miss Giblin’s smile disappeared. “I was not hired to watch children play , Mr. Kinney.” Her chest swelled in indignation. “The children are to stay in the schoolroom and work on their lessons and samplers.”

No wonder Evie had sought out other company.

Stitching all afternoon was her idea of a nightmare.

“Perhaps I ought to have Evie fetched home for the afternoon. I’m sure she could stitch just as easily there as here.

” His gaze swung back to Mrs. Cooper. “Of course, in that case, I’d expect to pay half the fees. ”

“No need to be hasty.” Mrs. Cooper tripped over her words in her hurry to reassure him. “I’m sure this is a simple misunderstanding. Rest assured, the children will have time to play.”

Miss Giblin made a sound as though she would protest, but Mrs. Cooper raised a hand, and she was silent.

“Excellent,” James said. He sent an impersonal smile around the circle of women, his eyes resting on the laundress for a long moment.

Her head was bent, her shoulders slumped.

He felt a strange surge of disappointment that she didn’t seem to approve of his maneuvering.

“I will talk with Evangeline,” he continued.

“She certainly shouldn’t be slipping away so that no one knows where she is.

” Evie drew in a quivering breath, and he squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, my carriage is waiting.

” James turned Evie around and steered her away, blocking out the babble of voices that erupted behind him.

He lowered his head to murmur into her ear. “How about going on a drive today?”

Evie didn’t pay any heed to the offered treat. Instead, she craned her neck around to look at the women still arguing in the courtyard behind them.

The ringing sound of a slap, followed by a sharp cry brought him to a halt. Evie sent him a wide glance and he turned to see the washerwoman leaning against the shed, a hand cradling her cheek.

“Sara!” Evie cried. She ripped her hand out of his grasp and ran to the woman’s side.