“No turnips,” Simon said. “I dislike them immensely.”
“I haven’t grown potatoes before,” Pamela said. “But we could plant them together.”
“I like potatoes,” Louisa said.
“Me too,” Simon said.
Louisa wrapped her arms around her middle and took in a long, shaky breath. “I understand now. I’m ready to go with you.”
“We’ve made up a bed in your new room,” Pamela said. “Would you like to see it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Louisa said, brightening. “My own room?” She looked over at Quinn as she slid from the couch. “Miss Cooper, my own room.”
“I’m glad for you,” Quinn said.
We all stood then. For a moment, an awkward silence filled the room until Louisa ran to Quinn and wrapped her arms around her teacher’s waist. “Thank you for everything,” Louisa said.
“You’re welcome, dear one,” Quinn said. “You can breathe easily now. No one’s going to hurt you from here on out.” She put her hands on the little girl’s shoulders. “Are you ready to go with the Linds?”
“Yes, Miss Cooper.” Louisa stepped out of the embrace and walked over to where Pamela and Simon waited by the couch. Pamela offered her hand and after a split second of hesitation, Louisa took it, and they walked toward the door together.
“Tomorrow we can look at fabric to make you some new dresses,” Pamela said. “I’ve always wanted a daughter to sew for.”
“Will you teach me how to sew?” Louisa asked as they passed into the foyer.
Simon and I shook hands. “I may need some advice as we go along.” He chuckled. “A daughter when I’m already an old man.”
“It’s the best and hardest job you’ll ever have,” I said. “Although possibly easier to manage when there’s only one instead of five.”
“God hates a coward, isn’t that what you told me?” Simon asked.
“Yes sir,” I said. “Which makes him particularly proud of you tonight.”
Chapter 33
Quinn
* * *
After the excitement of the last few days, our household settled back into routine. Friday night, Alexander had asked Clive to call on Lizzie. Clive, being a kind man, and also much too young for Lizzie at only twenty years old, was only too happy to help in the ruse. To help her get ready, Merry and I joined Lizzie in her room. She had to look particularly inviting this evening.
I coaxed her unruly hair into a bun, but tendrils escaped at the back of her neck and temples. “Oh, why won’t my hair ever behave?” Lizzie asked.
“Never mind that,” I said. “The curls are pretty.”
Merry powdered Lizzie’s nose and gave her a hint of blush on her cheeks and lips.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you without your apron and cap,” I said as I stood back to admire Lizzie. She wore a sapphire-blue dress with a white sash that flattered her curves and brought out her eyes. “You’re always pretty, but tonight you’re simply breathtaking.”
“Do you think?” Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Lizzie patted her hips. “I’m so plump.”
“No, you’re just right,” Merry said as she sat on Lizzie’s bed, looking fetching in a pale green dress. Her hair, usually braided and wrapped around the top of her head, was twisted at the nape of her neck.
“I agree.” I looked small and skinny next to Lizzie’s hourglass frame and Merry’s tall, muscular build. “Anyway, it takes all kinds.”
Mrs. Wu was in the kitchen making supper, and the smell wafted into Lizzie’s room. “What is she making that smells so divine?” I asked.
“Some kind of bun with meat in the middle,” Lizzie said. “Her mother taught her all the family recipes when she was a girl in China.”