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Sara cupped her stinging cheek and questioned her sanity. She’d kept her head down and her mouth shut for years now. Why, today, had she needed to get involved?

“Sara, are you hurt?” Evie came pelting up to her and grabbed her hand.

“I’m fine,” she said, wishing she could fade into the building behind her.

Evie swung about to look at Mrs. Cooper. “You hit Sara. Why did you do that?” Her little voice was outraged.

Mrs. Cooper’s mouth dropped open for a second. “Young ladies do not question their elders,” she said, her shoulders stiff with disapproval.

“Evie.” James Kinney approached, eyes flashing. He drew his daughter to his side, and her hand slipped from Sara’s grasp. Sara braced herself for another recrimination.

“Mrs. Cooper.” James’s voice was sharp. “That was unnecessary.”

Sara risked lifting her gaze, surprise making the breath catch in her throat. Was James Kinney defending her?

Mrs. Cooper’s mouth opened and closed without a sound.

“Servants and children must be controlled with an iron hand, Mr. Kinney,” Miss Giblin said, coming to her employer’s aid. In the governess’s thin, reedy voice, the words sounded more like a whine than a defense.

“There’s no need for physical blows.” James stepped closer to Sara, his eyes on her cheek and his body forming a safeguard and blocking her from view.

“Are you—” He raised his hand as though he would cup her cheek.

Their eyes met and he checked the movement, dropping his hand back to his side. “Are you injured?”

For a moment, she was tempted to step closer and take shelter behind the solid wall of his shoulders.

Foolishness. When had a man ever provided security she could rely on?

She clenched her fists, stepping away from the protection he seemed to offer.

If she didn’t defuse the situation and find a way for Mrs. Cooper to save face, she could lose her job.

“I’m fine, sir,” she murmured, ducking her chin. “I’d best get back to work.” She took a cautious step to the washing shed.

James Kinney turned to Mrs. Cooper. “I must ask you to reconsider your methods of punishment.”

Mrs. Cooper crossed her arms. “I’m within my rights. I can manage my servants how I want. I don’t tolerate no sloppy work nor disrespect, neither.” The woman’s polished accent slipped a fraction.

Her strident voice garnered the attention of a passing maid who stopped to listen. From the corner of her eye, Sara saw the grooms gathered in the door of the stable and her face burned. She’d be the talk of the inn that night.

“I am well aware you are within your rights.” James’s voice was cold and clipped. “Still, I would rather my daughter see rational discussion and compassion than violence.”

That was why he’d intervened on her behalf.

She was an object lesson, not a person. Heat washed over Sara’s cheeks at how she’d misread his words and the expression in his eyes.

She’d thought he’d wanted to protect her .

She’d been away from common decency so long, she’d forgotten what it looked like.

Mrs. Cooper seemed to collect herself, the skin of her face smoothing.

“Yes, Mr. Kinney, I’m sure you have the right of it,” she said, her voice gracious again.

“A lady always shows restraint.” She shooed away the circle of servants who’d gathered to witness the little drama. “Back to work, everyone.”

The group in the courtyard broke up. Sara kept her head down and hurried to her laundry shed with a sigh of relief. If she could stay out of view for a few days, maybe this would blow over.

“Papa, make sure she doesn’t hit Sara again.” Evie’s voice floated across the open space, clear for anyone to hear.

Then again, maybe not. As much as Sara dreaded the attention, Evie’s defense warmed a frozen place in her heart.

A shadow fell across the dirt floor of the shed. “Listen here, O’Connor.” Sara flinched at Mrs. Cooper’s voice. “No more chances. You keep yourself out of my business or you’ll be back out on the street where you belong.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sara answered, not daring to look up.

“Never trusted you. Putting on airs, talking as if you was a lady.” Mrs. Cooper grabbed her ear, forcing her about with a vicious twist so she could stare down at her.

“You stay away from that girl. A friend like her could open doors for my daughters. I’ll not have some serving wench putting a spoke in my wheel. Got it?”

A hundred replies flew to mind, but Sara bit her tongue. How easy it would have been for the old Sara to put this woman in her place. She’d never appreciated the power of her name and standing until she lost it. But this Sara needed to work. Granny depended on her.

“I understand,” she whispered.

James turned the carriage down Front Street and prepared himself for the inevitable questions.

When Evie encountered injustice in the world, she’d take it up with him.

The kittens about to be drowned at the livery.

Mr. Sinclair arrested for debt, even though everyone knew the fire that destroyed his business hadn’t been his fault.

But Evie was strangely silent as they left the city and wound their way to the shore.

The surrounding land was uncleared, with patches of thick forest broken up by marshes and streams. The wind blew cold off the lake, carrying with it the dry, icy smell of winter.

He reached down and pulled out a carriage blanket for Evie, pointing out the dark sheen of a muskrat as it disappeared into the marsh.

She didn’t respond, her eyes trained on two gulls that soared above them in the clear blue sky.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sure it won’t happen again.”

Evie’s head swung around. “Are you?” Her eyes were bright, challenging. “Mrs. Cooper said she was within her rights. She’s allowed to hit Sara?”

James sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He knew better than to try to comfort her with platitudes. “Well, I don’t know about allowed , but it’s not a crime.”

“Sara was just trying to help.”

“I know it seems wrong.” He moved the reins to one hand and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. “It is wrong, but Mrs. Cooper owns that inn, and she runs things as she sees fit. If Miss O’Connor doesn’t like how they treat her, she is free to seek work elsewhere.”

Evie’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s my fault she got hit.”

Sara O’Connor had risked a lot to defend his daughter.

No wonder Evie was drawn to the woman. “No,” James said firmly.

“It’s Mrs. Cooper’s fault.” He’d had a glimpse beneath the woman’s sugary smiles and veneer of gentility.

She wasn’t the warmhearted widow he’d thought her.

“But she assured me it won’t happen again. ”

James hoped the woman spoke the truth. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the angry welt on Sara O’Connor’s face.

He’d wanted to step between the women, and force Mrs. Cooper to back down.

Tuck Sara O’Connor under his arm and steer her right out of that ugly scene.

He sighed. There was precious little he could do for a woman in Sara’s position.

Any interest he showed was bound to cause gossip and make her situation more difficult.

Yet he couldn’t dismiss her from his thoughts.

“Sara is an unusual laundress.” He hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.

Evie swiveled her head to stare at him, her eyes bright. “What do you mean? She works hard. Her linens are really clean.”

“Well, I just—” Why was a woman so poised and intelligent, so.

.. beautiful stuck in the laundry? He had a thousand questions about her.

About the education and refinement clear in every word she uttered.

The fire of conviction and courage in her eyes.

He sighed. Not one of his questions Evie could answer. “Never mind.”

The carriage path turned, revealing their first view of the lake, glinting deep blue in the afternoon sun.

He tied the horses to a tree, marveling again at the expanse, as broad as the North Sea of his youth.

The sound of the waves lapping the shore calmed him, settling his swirling emotions.

Evie, too, relaxed, running along the beach and squealing as the icy water threatened to soak her boots.

They found their favorite inlet along the rocky shore and collected smooth skipping stones. Evie went first, holding the stone with the tips of her fingers and accomplishing nothing more than a solid plop.

“You’ve lost your touch,” he teased as his stone made seven jumps across the water.

Evie shrugged. “I’ll just watch.”

“Here, try this one,” he said, grabbing her hand to shape her fingers around a perfect flat oval.

She flinched and jerked her hand back. “Hold on. What’s this?

” He uncurled her fingers to display two red welts across her palm.

James searched her face, but she avoided his gaze. “Evie. What happened?”

“I—it happened yesterday. At the inn.”

He pictured the courtyard of the inn and the fire rimmed with heating irons. His fingers tensed, gripping her wrist. “Were you playing near the fire?”

Evie kicked the loose pebbles at her feet. “Sometimes I help Sara. I like her.”

It seemed he and Evie had that in common.

James thought back to the scene in the courtyard when Sara O’Connor had flung back her shoulders to defend his little girl like an avenging angel.

No wonder Evie was drawn to her. But doing laundry instead of lessons?

“The wash is Miss O’Connor’s job, not yours. You are there to learn.”

“But Papa, you said servants are people just like us. That we should help them and appreciate what they do.”

James sighed, running his fingers through his close-cropped hair.

“Yes, yes, that’s true, but—” But he’d meant Mrs. Hobbes, not the laundrywoman at Cooper’s Inn.

As usual, Evie had gone straight to the crux of the matter, finding the inconsistencies most adults overlooked.

He cast his eyes up to the deep blue, flawless sky.

I could use some wisdom here. How do I reach her?

Scooping her up, James sat on a wide flat boulder and settled her on his lap.

Evie opened her mouth, but James spoke before she could intervene.

“There are things you need to learn that I can’t teach you.

” He pulled his head back to look into her eyes.

“Things your mama wanted you to know. You are there to learn and make friends. Soon you’ll need to go to assemblies and balls—” These supposed treats only made her draw back, and James changed tacks.

“And the theater. You can attend lectures, too.” Evie chewed her lip and James pushed his advantage.

“But first you must learn how to go on in society. You’ll need some friends your age.

That’s why you’re in classes with Miss Giblin in the first place. ”

Her face took on a mulish look that he suspected she’d inherited from him. He hated to threaten, but—“There’s always Miss Strachan’s school in Kingston.” He let the thought hang between them.

Evie looked up at him, aghast. “You’d send me away?”

He hugged her. “I would hate to do that. But I need to do what’s best for you. You can’t stay here with me forever.” Her eyes filled with tears and his heart cracked. “I’m sure it won’t come to that. You’ve learned so much from Miss Giblin. Do your best and all will be well, you’ll see.”

“Yes, Papa.” Evie tucked her head under his chin.

He relished the warmth of her little, trusting body curled up in his arms. Would that he could keep her here forever.

“Listen, Evie. One more thing. I don’t want you helping Sara—er, Miss O’Connor anymore.

” He hated the feel of the words in his mouth, hated the wounded confusion on Evie’s face.

But Evie needed to establish herself among her peers. Learn about society, not laundry.

“But—”

“No buts. You don’t want her to get in trouble again, do you?” Evie shook her head. “Then you stay in the schoolroom and let Miss O’Connor tend to the laundry.”