“Mrs. Hamilton, you remind me of my sister. Have I ever told you that?”
She wanted to draw her hands away, but the girl’s fingers curled tighter.
“She is close to your age, but she is not free like you. You understand? She lives beneath her husband’s thumb. And you . . .”
Kate felt a moment of pure, horrifying fear. A surety that somehow this girl had found her out. But then she met Lucy Cain’s sweet brown eyes and saw in them a wisdom she had never noticed.
“You remind me of her,” Miss Cain repeated. “So please let me send my maid and a driver. And let us enjoy ourselves tonight, because there is no husband about to tell us we must not.”
Inexplicably, tears clogged Kate’s throat with the suddenness of a clenching fist. What could she do but nod?
Miss Cain gave her hands another squeeze before she stepped back. “I shall see you tonight then, Mrs. Hamilton.”
“Please,” she managed to say. “Call me Kate.”
Her smile stretched to a blinding grin. “Yes, I think I shall. And you must call me Lucy.”
Warmth prickled through her so quickly she pressed a hand to her chest. “All right,” she said. “I will.”
“Mrs. Hamilton!” a gruff voice called, startling her from this new place where people called her Kate. She stood and rushed toward the alley door to find a great oxlike man standing in the doorway. She recognized him by his white curls. He was the new driver who brought supplies from Mr. Fost’s warehouse.
“Good day, sir. Have you brought the Sumatran?”
“I’m not right sure, ma’am. I’ve got four crates here for you. Hope one of ’em has what you like.”
“Bring them in, please.”
He set them in the short corridor, stacking them against the wall. “Did I hear your husband was in India, Mrs. Hamilton?”
She glanced up from her examination of the label on the first crate. “You did.”
“I’ve a brother there. With the John Company, ’course. Where abouts is your plantation? Perhaps you might know him. Can’t be too many Englishmen there. I reckon you all kno
w each other.”
Neither of the first two crates was Sumatran. “The plantation is quite isolated. In Mysore. I’m sure your brother has never been there. There were no Company stations nearby.”
“Oh, I’m sure, ma’am.”
She stood and put her hands on her hips. “There is no Sumatran here. Will you please tell Mr. Fost that I cannot go another week without?”
“I’ll pass that on, and hopefully I’ll be along with it shortly. Afternoon, ma’am.”
Kate dusted off her hands, then remembered Lucy and hurried back to the counter. “I’m so sorry!”
“Oh, please don’t apologize. I swear my father gets up from every meal at least four times to tend to some emergency. I wouldn’t know what to do with undivided attention. But I must go now. So many things to do before the party. Are you excited?”
Kate smiled. “I suppose I am.”
“Of course you are. It will be impossibly wonderful.” Lucy reached for Kate and clasped her tight in an unexpected hug. “I am so pleased you are coming. Good day, Kate.”
After Lucy swept out, Kate found herself humming a waltz as she went about her work.
Lucy had entered like a spring storm, and just as after a storm, the air of the shop felt cleaner and brighter now. She’d swept all the staleness away, and even Kate’s worries about Aidan York could not keep her from watching the clock in anticipation.
Lucy Cain was a force of nature and Kate had finally let herself be overtaken. And it felt . . . fun. She could almost hear the slide of another stone back into place. The tragedy she’d left behind did not matter. This was a new life, and already she was stronger.
Chapter 7