Free Not by Sight by Kate Breslin Page B

her heart feeling like lead. She didn’t want to go back to London, to the painful memories she’d left there. Still . . . “I’m going with you,” she said.
    “Dear Agnes, I appreciate your support, but please don’t leave on my account. You seem much happier here at Roxwood.”
    Oh, how true! Agnes felt free here in the country. The air smelled cleaner, the countryside prettier than the dank dirtiness of London’s streets. Life here seemed so uncomplicated.
    “Where you go, miss, I go,” Agnes said, and meant it. Grace Mabry had more than proved her friendship. Not only had she willingly hired Agnes off the streets without so much as a reference, but she’d offered her kindness and respect. Agnes hadn’t received those gifts from anyone, including her despicable husband, Edgar, in a long, long while. Not since leaving her mother and sister behind . . .
    A wave of emotion seized her, causing unexpected tears. “I won’t let you return alone,” she said, sniffing, as she stuffed her cotton nightdress into her bag. “I owe you so much.”
    “Agnes, please don’t do this!”
    Seeing her mistress’s look of distress, Agnes pasted on a smile. “I’ll be fine, really,” she said, cinching the straps on her luggage. Perhaps Patrick Mabry would decide to send them to stay with Grace’s aunt in Oxford. Then they could escape London altogether. The notion lifted her spirits.
    “Are you sure you want to leave?” Grace said. “I want you to be happy, Agnes. And Mrs. Vance could use your help here with the others.” She sat on the bed and looked down at her lap. “Even if I could stay, Lord Roxwood wishes me gone.”
    Agnes paused, still curious over exactly what had happened with the pigs getting loose yesterday. Her mistress had told them the ridiculous story of how she’d all but let the animals out herself and then chased them down, but Agnes felt certain something odd was going on.
    Like the flower pendant Grace had placed on Clare Danner’s pillow last night. And then Agnes and her mistress had taken their meal upstairs instead of sitting with the others. When the rest of the women finally came upstairs and readied for bed, Clare had turned white as chalk dust seeing the necklace. Neither of the two women had explained. Agnes could only wonder at it.
    ———
    “Well, Mrs. Vance is waiting for us downstairs.” Grace rose from the bed and picked up her bags. When her maid did the same, tears burned the backs of her eyes. “Thank you for your faith in me, Agnes. I couldn’t possibly imagine a more loyal friend.”
    She saw emotion return to her maid’s expression and tried not to feel guilty about her relief that Agnes would accompany her home. Grace imagined her father’s reaction. She felt certain he would send for her aunt and then wire his protégé in New York, forcing her hand in marriage. It seemed she was a complete failure at anything else.
    Downstairs, the others sat around the kitchen table, lookingas uncomfortable as they had the previous night. Grace was glad at least her last meal at Roxwood had been a peaceful one, with just Agnes for company. Since yesterday’s fiasco with Lord Roxwood, tension seemed to be running high in the WFC.
    Mrs. Vance rose from the table and came to her. “This is a sorry business, Mabry, but the WFC has strict rules. I hope you understand?”
    She offered a hand, and Grace took it. “It’s all right, Mrs. Vance. You’re just doing your job.”
    The supervisor looked relieved, then looked to Agnes. “We’re sorry to see you go, Pierpont, though your allegiance to Miss Mabry is commendable.”
    “Miss . . . Grace, has done much for me. I would not leave her.” Agnes tilted her chin bravely, and Grace felt a surge of warmth for her friend. Her words also seemed a catalyst, as soon the others rose and came to murmur their best wishes.
    Clare was notably absent. Grace recalled the woman’s subdued mood last night when she’d found the