Free The Quilter's Legacy by Jennifer Chiaverini

money are too great otherwise.” She gave Eleanor a wistful smile. “But I am not organizing at your father's store. I would be recognized.”
    “Somewhere else, then.”
    “Yes, somewhere else.”
    Miss Langley settled back into her seat, and Eleanor rested her head in her lap. They rode in companionable silence until they reached the station nearest to home. The carriage waited for them outside, and the driver's eyes grew wide at the sight of Eleanor.
    “There's a lot of trouble for you at home, miss,” he said to Eleanor, then removed his cap and addressed Miss Langley. “The missus has her eye on you. You best pretend we found Miss Eleanor on the way home.”
    “Thank you, but I shall not lie.” Miss Langley smiled kindly at the driver and helped Eleanor into the carriage.
    “Maybe he's right,” said Eleanor as the carriage began to move. “I could get out a block away and walk home. I could say I was hiding. I could say I was mad about the luncheon.”
    Miss Langley shook her head. “We will tell the truth and accept whatever comes of it.”

    M other met them at the door, frantic. When Miss Langley tried to explain, Mother waved her to silence, ordered the nanny from her sight, and told Harriet to take Eleanor to her room. “You should be ashamed of yourself, giving your poor mother such a fright,” scolded Harriet as she seized Eleanor's arm and steered her upstairs. “We thought you had been kidnapped or worse.”
    “I was fine.”
    “Ungrateful, disobedient child. It's that Langley woman's influence, I know it.”
    “Leave me alone,” shouted Eleanor, pulling free from Harriet's grasp. She ran to her room and slammed the door. She stretched out on the bed and squeezed her eyes shut against tears. She listened for Miss Langley on the other side of the wall until fatigue overcame her.
    She woke with a jolt as the first shafts of pale sunlight touched her window. She ran to Miss Langley's room. The nanny opened at Eleanor's knock, and in a glance Eleanor took in the bulging satchel, the stripped bed, the missing quilts.
    Eleanor flung her arms around her. “Please don't go.”
    “I have no choice.”
    “I hate her. I hate them both.”
    “Don't hate them on my account.” Miss Langley hugged her tightly, then held her at arm's length. “I knew their rules and deliberately broke them. I made a choice, and I am prepared to accept the consequences. Remember that.”
    Eleanor nodded, gulping air to hold back the tears. “Where are you going?”
    “I have a friend in the city who will take me in for a while, until I can find a new situation. Maybe I'll stay in New York. Perhaps I'll return to England.”
    “I thought you couldn't go back to England because of the baby.”
    “What baby?”
    “Yours. Your baby.”
    Miss Langley regarded her oddly. “I never had a baby. Whatever gave you that idea?”
    Eleanor couldn't bear to repeat Abigail's tale. “The baby footprints on your Crazy Quilt. I thought you traced your baby's footprints and embroidered them.”
    “Eleanor.” Miss Langley cupped Eleanor's cheek with her hand. “Those are your footprints, silly girl.”
    Eleanor took a deep breath and scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Miss Langley sighed, reached into her satchel, and handed her a handkerchief. Eleanor wiped her face and tried to compose herself. “Will I ever see you again?”
    “That's up to you.” Miss Langley closed her satchel. “When you're a woman grown and free to make your own decisions, I would be very pleased if you called on me.”
    “I will. As soon as I'm able.”
    Father's carriage was waiting outside, the rest of Miss Langley's belongings already inside. At first Eleanor was surprised to see it, but naturally Mother would also not have it said that the Lockwoods allowed a woman, even one discharged in disgrace, to struggle on foot into the city, unescorted and encumbered by baggage.
    “I'll write as soon as I'm settled,” said Miss Langley as she