devastating the theft was. And there was no way to retrieve it. Tasia had begged Mrs. Knaggs not to conduct a search of the servants' rooms. “It would make them all resent me,” she said earnestly. “Please, don't embarrass everyone by looking through their rooms. It was only a little wooden picture. Nothing important.”
“But it is,” Mrs. Knaggs had argued. “I saw how you had propped it on that little chair. It meant something to you, and don't try to tell me it didn't.”
“I don't need any trinkets or pictures to remind me of my faith—all I need to do is stare out the window at the woods, and see how beautiful they are.”
“That's a sweet thought, my dear, but this matter goes beyond your personal interests. We've never had a problem with thievery before now. If there are no repercussions, other things might begin to disappear.”
“I don't believe that will happen,” Tasia had said firmly. “Please, don't encourage suspicion among the servants. And above all, don't mention this to Lord Stokehurst. It's not necessary.”
Reluctantly Mrs. Knaggs had agreed to let the matter pass, though she had muttered something about wishing she could search beneath Nan's mattress.
Emma's voice brought Tasia back to the present. “It serves Nan right if she's unhappy. She's not a nice girl.”
“We have no right to judge others,” Tasia said gently. “Only God can see inside our hearts.”
“But don't you dislike Nan?”
“No, I feel sorry for her. It is terrible to be so unhappy that you try to make others feel the same way.”
“I guess so. But I don't feel sorry for her. She brings all her unhappiness on herself.”
That night after supper, Tasia discovered more about Nan's predicament. There was a special room off the kitchen where the head servants gathered each evening at Mrs. Knaggs's invitation. Seymour, Mrs. Plunkett, and Mr. Biddle were there, as well as the wine butler, the under butler, the groom of chambers, and the head housemaid. Idly they pared slices from a small round of cheese, and one of the kitchen maids brought coffee and sweets. Tasia took a sugared biscuit and nibbled on it, quiet as usual while the others talked.
“Any word on Nan?” the head housemaid asked Mrs. Knaggs. “I heard what she did this afternoon.”
Mrs. Knaggs made a face and took a sip of black coffee. “It's quite a mess. The doctor prescribed a purgative and said she'd be all right. His Lordship was very displeased when I told him about Nan. He said I'm to dismiss her in the morning and have her sent back to her village.”
“Is anyone with her now?” Mrs. Plunkett asked.
“No, there's nothing to be done except let her stomach empty itself. She doesn't need help for that. Besides, none of the girls like her well enough to stay with her.”
“And the young man?” Seymour asked, his long forehead creasing.
The housekeeper shook her head ruefully. “He disclaims any responsibility.”
Tasia looked around the table in confusion. What did they all know that she didn't? “What is the matter with Nan?” she asked.
It was so rare for her to break in on a conversation that the others looked at her in surprise. Finally Mrs. Knaggs answered. “Didn't you hear? No, of course not, you've been with Emma all day. It's very distasteful. Nan has a follower.”
“A follower?” Tasia was puzzled by the unfamiliar term. “Do you mean a lover?”
“Precisely.” Mrs. Knaggs rolled her eyes and added uncomfortably, “And now there are…consequences.”
“She's pregnant?” Tasia asked. A few eyebrows raised at her bluntness.
“Yes, and she's been hiding it from everyone. In an effort to solve the problem, she took a handful of special pills and drank a bottle of oil to get rid of the baby. She only succeeded in making herself ill, the poor little wretch. Thank God the baby wasn't harmed. Now Nan's going to be dismissed, and it's likely she'll end up in the streets.” Mrs. Knaggs frowned and shook her