Free The Last Camellia: A Novel by Sarah Jio

they could never compare to her gardens in America.” Sadie nodded to herself. “I’ll never forget seeing her face one day when she received a letter from America. You’d think her heart was about to break right there.”
    “Didn’t she go home to visit?”
    She shook her head. “Lady Anna was from a wealthy family. From what I gather, his Lordship needed a fortune to save the manor. And her father wanted her as far away from Charleston as possible.”
    “Why?”
    “The rumor is that she fell for some boy who was poor and not suitable for her. So they sent her to England. But what Lord Livingston didn’t realize is that you can’t keep a wife, a human being, under lock and key. Not even in the company of the rarest flowers in the world. She longed for her life in Charleston, but Lord Livingston wouldn’t hear of it. And after the children were born, her fate was sealed. She couldn’t leave. It broke her, I think.”
    “No wonder the children are so troubled,” I said, shaking my head. “What they must have endured!”
    Sadie nodded.
    “You said they found her in the orchard?”
    “Yes,” she continued. “She and his Lordship had a row that morning. It was a bad one. I know, because I was scrubbing the floors outside of the drawing room. She ran out, and I could see that she’d been crying. She took her tea on the terrace with that awful gardener Mr. Blythe, and then she went for a walk in the gardens. They found her down there that night.”
    “What happened?” I gasped.
    “No one knows,” Sadie said in a hushed voice. “But it’s never sat well with me. His Lordship fired Mr. Blythe on the spot.” She sighed. “Only the sweet Lord Jesus knows what went on in that orchard,” she continued. “Poor Lady Anna, she—”
    “That will be all, Sadie,” Mrs. Dilloway said from the doorway. How long had she been standing there? Neither of us had noticed her.
    “Yes, ma’am,” Sadie said quickly, her cheeks reddening. “I was only telling Miss Lewis about—”
    “Yes, I know what you were discussing with Miss Lewis—things that should not be spoken of,” she said. “Now, it’s time you get started on the bedrooms. The washing is ready to be collected. Get on with it, please.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Sadie said, jumping to her feet.
    Mrs. Dilloway cast a disapproving look toward me and then turned on her heel.

    “What’s America like?” Sadie asked in the servants’ hall later. It wasn’t really a hall, but that’s what they called it. The room contained a long table with a bench on one side and chairs on the other.
    “Oh, it’s fine, I guess,” I said.
    “I’ve never been fond of Americans,” Mrs. Marden said, casting a glance toward me. “But I do like the accent. Lady Anna had such a way of talking.” The cook frowned as though recalling something unpleasant. “I take it they don’t eat stew in America?”
    “I’m not sure what you mean,” I said, flustered.
    “You hardly touched your lunch today,” she added with a smirk.
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “I haven’t had much of an appetite since leaving home.”
    The cook was a large woman, in both height and girth. She wore her gray hair short, and when she smiled, which wasn’t often, she revealed a crooked front tooth. “If you don’t like my cooking, you can just say so. No point in beating around the bush.”
    “I don’t mean that at all, ma’am,” I said, flushing. To compensate, I pointed to the breadboard on the table. “That’s a fine loaf you’ve got there.”
    Mrs. Marden arched her eyebrows. “And how would
you
know?”
    “I know bread,” I said. “I grew up in a bakery.”
    “My, my,” she said, as though my comment had added fuel to the fire. “A baker’s daughter has taken up residence in Livingston Manor.”
    Mrs. Dilloway cleared her throat. “Mrs. Marden, perhaps she can give you a few pointers on your scones.”
    The cook smirked and turned to her bowl.
    A large man with dark hair