Page 9

A dozen punishments followed the scene in the courtyard.

No slaps, nothing so obvious, but subtle challenges meant to remind Sara of her place.

Twice Mrs. Cooper returned the linens to wash again.

Not nearly clean enough. Do you think I don’t have eyes in my head?

Instead of arguing, Sara recalled Granny’s pale, pinched face, and worked harder.

Yesterday when Sara approached the kitchen for dinner, Cook handed her a bowl of cold porridge. “Stew’s all gone,” was all Cook said, but she couldn’t meet Sara’s eyes.

These small cruelties Sara could endure, but Evie’s absence hurt. As much as she tried to convince herself that it was better this way, she missed her.

“Sara.”

The whisper made Sara jump. She paused in the upper hall, her arms full of dirty linens.

“Over here, in the blue room.”

She should tell her to leave straight away before they both ended up in hot water. But Sara found herself moving to the open doorway, longing for a glimpse of her little friend. Evie stood inside, out of sight of anyone who might walk by.

“You should get back to the parlor before anyone sees you here.”

“I need to talk to you. Just this once.” Evie’s brown eyes were huge with a mute appeal that melted Sara’s resistance.

Sara glanced down the hallway. Empty. For now. “Very well, but quickly.”

“I can’t come and see you anymore.” Evie looked down, her hands twisting in the fabric of her skirt. “I promised Papa.”

Sara felt a foolish pang at this. James Kinney thought her a bad influence? She set her basket down and sanity returned. Of course, he did, and he wasn’t wrong. The more time Evie spent with Sara, the more likely they’d have a repeat of the scene in the courtyard.

“He’s right.” Sara fought to keep her voice matter-of-fact.

Evie gave a jerky nod. “I—I’ll miss you, Sara.”

Sara softened. “I’ll miss you, too. Promise me you’ll stay out of trouble. Do what Miss Giblin says?” At the thought, Sara’s eyes flew to Evie’s hands. “She hasn’t hurt you again, has she?”

Evie shook her head. “I’m fine.”

The faint sound of voices came from the landing, girlish giggles, and the distinctive cadence of Miss Giblin’s recitations.

Evie’s head jerked up, her braids bouncing.

“I’ve got to go. She hardly ever lets me out of her sight these days.

” She took a step forward and put her arms around Sara in a fierce hug.

“Goodbye, Sara. You were the best teacher I ever had.” The voices grew louder, and Evie darted out the door and down the hallway.

“Goodbye,” Sara whispered. She followed more slowly, collecting the last of the dirty sheets. At the top of the stairs, she paused, straining to hear the voices drifting up from the parlor.

“First you disappear, then you can’t even answer a simple question.”

“I—I’m sorry, Miss Giblin. Could you repeat it?” There was panic in Evie’s voice.

“I most certainly will not. Come here.”

There was an ominous silence, then the sound of Evie’s footsteps moving slowly across the floor. Thwack. A ruler hitting flesh.

Sara didn’t think. She dropped the linens and rushed down the stairs and into the room.

“Stop.” The occupants of the room turned as one, staring at her. Sara advanced, her steps long and deliberate. “Miss Giblin, I must protest. You have no right to hit this child.”

Miss Giblin’s mouth had drawn into a fierce frown. “How dare you question my methods?” She pointed a bony finger at Sara, her body stiff with outrage. “Return to the laundry at once.”

Sara pushed between Evie and the governess. “I think Mr. Kinney made his feelings about corporal punishment perfectly clear.” Evie leaned into Sara, her hand finding hers with a sigh of relief.

Miss Giblin’s lips quivered in indecision. “Well, I—” Her eyes lit on Evie’s hand in Sara’s and her eyes narrowed. “It’s not your place to interfere. Don’t think Mrs. Cooper won’t hear about this. Your days are numbered here, I can assure you.”

Sara deflated with each word, all the indignation that had propelled her replaced with defeat until her shoulders hunched.

Why couldn’t she hold her tongue when it came to this little girl?

She was Sara O’Connor now. Her opinion counted for naught.

Her eyes found Evie, silently begging her forgiveness.

Evie managed a shaky smile. “It’s okay, Sara. I’ll be all right.”

Miss Giblin turned her icy stare on Evie. “Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to,” she barked. “Haven’t you caused enough uproar?”

Evie’s face crumpled and Sara took an unconscious step closer, only to have Miss Giblin turn on her. “Out. Or I’ll call Mrs. Cooper and have you removed.”

Sara turned, her steps heavy. Gathering up the mass of soiled linens, she reflected on her options. There was only one person who could protect Evie. Her father.

She thought back to the moment in the courtyard when he’d stepped in to defend her from Mrs. Cooper’s blow, and a tiny thrill went through her. But he’d since told Evie to avoid her company. Would he listen to what she had to say?

She set the linens to soak and trudged to the shed to refill her bowl of soap. Henry bolted upright when she entered, banging his elbow on the barrel of apples and hiding a rough burlap sack behind his back. Sara froze.

“Please tell me this isn’t what it seems.” She couldn’t lose Henry, too. If Mrs. Cooper caught him stealing, she’d have him hauled before the magistrate without a second thought.

“I’m not stealing. Leastways, not for me.”

“It’s still stealing.”

Henry’s chin jutted out. “I’ve got to do something.”

“About what?”

“About Evie.”

Sara looked back and forth between the sack of apples and Henry’s face, tenser than she’d ever seen it. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m taking Evie away from here. She can’t take it anymore, the way the Goblin picks on her. Promised I’d do something. And I will.”

Since when had Henry proclaimed himself Evie’s protector? Sara’s heart melted at the look of fierce determination on his face.

“Listen, Henry, you can’t do this. Evie’s father would find her, quick as anything, and you’d be off to the workhouse. Or worse.”

Henry paled at her words, but his hands tightened into fists where they clasped the sack. “I’m willing to take the risk. Don’t know much about fathers but seems to me she’d be better off without him if he’s going to leave her to the Goblin every day.”

“He doesn’t know.” Henry shot her a skeptical glance. “She’s hiding it from him.” Sara stepped forward and put her hand over his to release his grip on the sack. “Let me talk to him before you do something rash.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Not going to tell him our plan, are you?”

Sara fought a brief battle with her conscience. “No,” she said finally. “I won’t need to, because once he knows, I’m sure he’ll put a stop to Miss Giblin’s punishments.” At least, Sara hoped he would. He was a reasonable man. He loved his daughter. He wasn’t like her father.

Henry chewed his lower lip, looking far from convinced, but he dropped the apples back into the bin and stuck out a grubby hand for her to shake. “Deal. You’ll talk to him soon?”

Sara nodded, her heart failing at the task before her.

She’d been able to confront Miss Giblin without hesitation, but the thought of searching out Evie’s father had her wanting to hide.

She sent Henry back to the stables and hurried to her kettle of laundry.

Picking up the long washing stick, she pounded the linens.

He was just a man. The worst he could do was ignore her, and she was plenty used to that.

But James Kinney wouldn’t ignore her. She’d seen him defend his daughter and watched Evie’s face glow with love for him. He would want to know. Her racing heart settled as she began to plan.

James picked his way across the street, dodging horse patties and a sluggish stream of filth that meandered down the side of the road. The inn came into sight, and he quickened his pace. Maybe he’d take Evie to the lake again. It was the last time he’d seen her happy.

“Mr. Kinney. I must speak with you.” A voice, vaguely familiar, whispered from the narrow alley on his right.

James stopped and peered into the passageway where a woman stood, her face obscured by shadow.

He cleared his throat. “If you seek legal counsel, please come to my chambers tomorrow morning. A clerk will hear your case and tell you if there’s anything to be done.

” It wasn’t the first time a woman in desperate straits sought him out.

He’d heard enough stories of abandonment and trickery to last a lifetime.

Usually, there was nothing the law could do but he could sometimes steer them in the way of work or shelter.

“It’s about your daughter.”

His daughter. A bolt of panic sent his heart racing. “What about my daughter?”

“She’s safe,” the woman hurried to add. “But there’s something you should know.”

The woman moved into the light and a bolt of recognition sent every nerve in his body tingling with awareness.

Sara O’Connor. His eyes traced her face, searching for any sign of the slap she’d received but the angry red marks had faded.

He stifled the urge to reach up and touch the smooth velvet skin of her cheek.

“Well, what is it, then?” He heard the impatience in his voice. She shrank back, biting her lip, unaware it was his own wayward thoughts that lent an edge to his voice.

Her shoulders straightened. “Based on your reaction the other day, I thought you would want to know. It’s about Miss Giblin.

She uses a ruler to... punish Evie. When she doesn’t pay attention, when she gets an answer wrong.

” She looked him full in the face and continued, her voice rushed.

“I—I know it’s not my place, but I must speak. ”

James clenched his hands, stifling the immediate urge to storm into the inn and demand to see his daughter. There was a core of truth about Sara O’Connor that compelled him, but a lawyer knew there were two sides to every story. She could be bent on revenge after that scene last week.

“Evie would have told me.”

“Would she?” The woman drew herself up, a challenge in her eyes. “Check her hands.”

Her words sent a spiral of dread through him. The welts. How had he missed something so obvious? Without a word, he turned and rushed to the inn. No sign of Evie waiting at her usual place just inside the door.

He pushed open the door to the parlor. The Cooper girls sewed demurely by the hearth while Evie stood in the middle of the room, reciting from a slate. At his appearance, all eyes turned to him. Evie paused and took a step toward him.

Miss Giblin sent him a cool smile from her position at the window. “We aren’t finished yet, Mr. Kinney. Perhaps you would take a seat?” She indicated a hard wooden chair in the corner and turned back to Evie. “Start again.”

Evie darted a fearful glance at the woman. “West of Prussia is Saxony.”

“Wrong.” Miss Giblin turned to James, her lips curved in a faint, superior smile. “Perhaps now you see, Mr. Kinney, what comes of daydreaming in class. Sophronia and Cressida finished a half hour ago.”

The girls at the hearth lifted wide eyes from their samplers, their glossy black curls bobbing. The eldest sent Evie a sideways glance and something like a smirk crossed her features. A wave of red swept up Evie’s thin cheeks and she lowered her chin.

James stood frozen for a long moment as the full force of what his daughter experienced hit him square in the gut. No wonder Evie was miserable. Rage churned inside him, but he knew it wasn’t only Miss Giblin who was at fault. He’d been blind. Unwilling to see beyond what he wanted to see.

“Come, Evie. It’s time to go.” Evie flinched at the bite in his voice. James forced himself to relax. “Maybe we’ll have time to go by the lake before supper.” He held out his hand and Evie walked to him.

“Mr. Kinney, I must protest. I am the one to dismiss students, and Evie well knows she cannot leave until she finishes her lessons.”

How had he ever thought it right to put his daughter’s education in such hard and inflexible hands?

James put a hand on Evie’s shoulder and gave her a gentle push.

“Run and put on your bonnet, my love.” Evie wasted no time darting out the door.

He spun around to face Miss Giblin, and the woman took a hasty step back.

“I sent my daughter here for an education,” he said sharply. “Not to be humiliated.” He let his eyes roam about the room, coming to rest on the Misses Cooper, who had given up any pretense of sewing and watched the adults with avid interest.

“You sent her here to become a lady,” Miss Giblin replied, finding her voice. She lifted her chin, her eyes hard. “Let me assure you, Mr. Kinney, that is no simple task.”

“Then you will be relieved to know it is no longer your concern.”