When he had returned and sat down again, he said, “It is not, of course, as simple as that. Beulah Land and Oaks have between them made another scandal. There is no hiding it, two people like that—they’ve left a trail a mile wide. Bonard was quite open, it seems, in tidying up his business affairs and making cash and banking note conversions. I got this both from Uncle Felix and from Rooster, with whom I have talked this morning. Although neither knew what he was up to, they knew he was up to something, but when they came near to asking a question, he always stopped them by saying they would find out soon enough.” He was silent a minute or two, although his face worked with his thoughts. “As for Lauretta, I can only tell you that I never loved her, anymore than—” He shrugged and looked down at his hands, the palms of which he was wiping against his trouser legs.

“Any more than Roman’s mother,” she said.

He blushed, slowly and deeply.

“I’m sorry if that was cruel,” she said, and there was another silence between them. Then she said, “No, I am not sorry for saying it. I am not a Christian saint to take the arrows meekly. I hate and resent what has happened! I despise Lauretta! If she were here, I would try to scratch and tear her to ribbons!—and feel no shame or regret if I succeeded!” She subsided weakly, dropping her head against the pillows again, closing her eyes. Without opening them, she said with self-mockery, “I talk so fierce—and, oh, I shall act so mild.”

“Sarah!” he said with anguished concern, taking her hands, closing his over them and pulling them toward his breast. “I love only you! I have loved only you!” His head was bent over his hands and hers, and she felt his moist breath on her fingers.

“I cannot say the same,” she said. When he looked up at her, she returned his look steadily, but the words she spoke were a mutation of the truth in her heart. “I must love Roman and Rachel. They are my children too. We shall christen her Rachel Kendrick and make no bones about it. Let anyone who dares, question me.”

He looked toward the tray on the table and lifted a covering napkin. “There’s a turkey broth—very good for you, Myrtis says—and some cold ham and bread and butter. Won’t you eat something?”

She smiled for the first time. “Yes, if it will make you feel better.”