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“Are you going to live here now?” Cymbeline asked.

“For a while anyway,” I said. “Is that all right with you?”

Cymbeline shrugged. “I guess so.”

Falling into step with Josephine, we followed the little girls down the hallway. “Will you have a new nanny?” I asked.

“We don’t need one,” Josephine said. “They have me.”

“You did a wonderful job dressing them this morning,” I said.

“Thank you, Miss Cooper,” Josephine said, beaming up at me. “I love church.”

“Me too.” I held on to the railing as we headed down the stairs to the main floor.

“Come on, Miss Cooper,” Cymbeline said. “I’ll show you where breakfast is.” She held out her hand and I took it.

“I want to show her.” Fiona stomped her foot.

I stretched my other hand out to her. “I have two hands.”

Fiona lit up, then plopped her warm, chubby hand into mine. “Your hands are cold.”

“I’m sorry about that,” I said. “Isn’t it lucky I have yours to warm me up?”

We entered through double doors to the dining room. Lord Barnes was already there, slumped over a cup of coffee and reading a book, with an untouched plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. He was dressed in an elegant suit, and his hair was damp and slicked back. He looked ready for church. However, there was a quality about him this morning that seemed completely different from the man I’d met the night before. I imagined a cloud hovered over him.

Lord Barnes stood to greet us. His eyes were puffy, and there were several nicks on his chin from shaving. His complexion looked green, like Mr. Jones who lived down the street and often stayed out all night drinking. I’d often seen him stumbling home in the early morning when I was on my way to work at the bakery where I assisted Mrs. Caper with the morning batches of bread.

I caught a whiff of his shaving soap. “Good morning, Miss Cooper. Girls.”

“Morning, Papa,” the girls said, in perfect harmony.

“Good morning,” I said.

“You’re all looking lovely.” He sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples.

“Papa, what’s wrong?” Josephine asked. “Are you ill?”

“No, darling. I had a terrible night’s sleep. I’ll have to have

a nap after church.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. If Lord Barnes had proven to be a drunk, I’d have been extremely disappointed to learn that my first impression was wrong.

Fiona and Cymbeline led me over to the head of the table. “This is where you should sit,” Cymbeline said to me. The table was set with places for seven, with shining silver utensils and delicate china painted with a pattern of pink roses.

“But first you have to get a plate of food,” Josephine said.

The boys were at the buffet with Jasper, who was scooping scrambled eggs onto their plates.

“Have whatever suits you for breakfast,” Lord Barnes said.

My stomach rumbled in response. The scent of bacon and coffee had me salivating and light-headed. Taking a cue from the girls, I loaded my plate with eggs, bacon, and slices of toasted bread spread with butter.

Now that I looked more closely at Jasper, he also looked tired and sad. What had happened after I went to bed last night?

The boys had already taken places on either side of their father. A chandelier made of glass hung over a rectangular dining table. Dark walls and almost crude-looking furniture, including a buffet and hutch, seemed rustic and rich all at once. A bank of windows looked out to a world covered in a white blanket. Thin winter sunlight filtered through the glass. Outside, sparrows leapt between pines and firs with branches laden with snow.


Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical