direct me to Miss Bernard for my fitting…”
Only fifteen minutes left. Sarah hurried into the Franklin House, nodded to the desk clerk and rushed up the stairs to her room. “Ellen?”
“Miss Sarah! Oh, Miss Sarah, I’ve been so worried about you what with the storm an’ all!” Her maid set aside what she called “busy work,” bustled over, pulled her into a strong hug, then stepped back and studied her face. “Are you all right, child?”
Sarah blinked a rush of tears from her eyes and nodded. “I am fine, Ellen. But I have missed you.” She gave a little laugh. “I have a new appreciation for how hard you work. You have always made everything look so easy. Whenever I needed anything I simply called for you. Now…” She laughed again, gave a helpless little shrug.
“Miss Sarah—”
“Don’t scold, Ellen. There is no time. I must meet Mr. Quincy in a few minutes to—”
“You’re going back? You’re going to continue being a nanny?” Ellen’s eyes clouded. “I thought you’d come to your senses.” She shook her head. “Your mother and father are not going to be happy about this. They—”
Sarah placed her hand on the older woman’s arm, halting her words. “There is no time for a lecture, Ellen. I only have time to say goodbye, and I do not want to waste it in useless debate.”
The maid studied her for a moment, drew herself up straight. “You’re sending me back to Randolph Court?”
Tears surged into Sarah’s eyes at the hurt in Ellen’s voice. She forced a smile. “I have no choice, Ellen. I shall miss you dreadfully. But whoever has heard of a nanny with her own lady’s maid?” Her voice caught. She took a breath. “This little girl needs me, Ellen. And right now I need her.”
“And when I’m not here and the nightmare comes?”
“I will imagine you hugging me and pampering me with warm blankets and hot tea. Now—” Sarah cleared her throat and swept her hand through the air toward the trunks stacked against the wall. “Take my clothes with you. I have commissioned new gowns suitable for a nanny.” She glanced down at her watch, reached into her reticule and pulled out a small packet of money and a folded letter. “This will cover the expense of your journey and answer any questions that might be asked of you. Now I must go. Safe journey, Ellen. Oh, I shall miss you so.” She gave the older woman a quick hug and hurried toward the door, blinking back tears.
“And I’ll miss you, Miss Sarah. May the Lord bless you and watch over you.”
The soft-spoken words—the last words Ellen spoke to her every night—followed her down the hall.
Now she was truly alone.
Clayton put down his pen, stretched his arms out and to the back and rolled his shoulders to get rid of the kinks caused by the hours spent drawing on the blueprint. He had worked longer than he intended, but it was of no consequence. No one waited for him to finish. All he faced was an empty house and another lonely night.
He shoved back from his desk, rubbed at his tired eyes and snuffed the lamps. The silence of the late night closed around him. Moonlight poured in the windows. Candlelight painted a yellow stripe under the door. Time to go to bed.
He reached for the jacket he had hung on the back of his chair, paused and glanced toward the door at the sound of soft footfalls. A shadow blocked out the gold of the candlelight, passed on. Eldora? No—she was heavy on her feet. And sound asleep by this time.
Clayton slipped on his jacket, tugged his waistcoat back in place and opened the door. There was no one in sight. He stepped across the hall and looked into the drawing room. Sarah Randolph was standing in the center of the room and something in the slope of her shoulders and the tilt of her head spoke to him of deep sorrow. He stepped back to go his way and give her privacy. But his movement must have caught her attention for she glanced in his direction. Their gazes connected. For a