Ellie groaned. The only person worse than her father when it came to moral standards was his fiancée, the recently widowed Sally Foxglove. Ellie smiled tightly as she tried to make a beeline for her room. “Mrs. Foxglove.”

“Your father will be most displeased when he hears of this.”

Ellie groaned again. Trapped. She turned around. “Of what, Mrs. Foxglove?”

“Of your cavalier treatment of the name of our Lord.” Mrs. Foxglove stood and crossed her plump arms.

Ellie had half a mind to remind the older woman that she was not Ellie's mother and had no authority over her, but she held her tongue. Life was going to be difficult once her father remarried. There was no need to make it downright impossible by deliberately antagonizing Mrs. Foxglove. Taking a deep breath, Ellie placed her hand over her heart and feigned innocence. “Is that what you thought I was saying?” she said, making her voice deliberately breathless.

“What were you saying, then?”

“I was saying, ‘So I thought.’ I hope you did not misunderstand me.”

Mrs. Foxglove stared at her with patent disbelief.

“I had misjudged a certain, er, problem,” Ellie continued. “I still cannot believe I did. Hence I was saying, ‘So I thought,’ because, you see, I held a certain thought, and if I had not held that thought, I would not have been mistaken in my logic.”

Mrs. Foxglove looked so befuddled that Ellie wanted to whoop with delight.

“Well, whatever the case,” the older woman said pointedly, “such bizarre behavior will never land you a husband.”

“How did we come to be on this topic?” Ellie muttered, thinking that the subject of marriage had come up entirely too often that day.

“You are three and twenty,” Mrs. Foxglove continued. “A spinster, to be sure, but we might be able to find a man who would deign to take you.”

Ellie ignored her. “Is my father home?”

“He is out performing his calls, and asked me to remain here in the event any parishioners decide to visit.”

“He left you in charge?”

“I will be his wife in two months.” Mrs. Foxglove preened and smoothed down her puce-colored skirts. “I have a position in society I must uphold.”

Ellie muttered some unintelligible phrases under her breath. She was afraid that if she actually allowed herself to form words, she'd do far far worse than taking the Lord's name in vain. She exhaled slowly and tried to smile. “If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Foxglove, I find I am most weary. I believe I will retire to my room.”

A pudgy hand landed on her shoulder. “Not so fast, Eleanor.”

Ellie turned around. Was Mrs. Foxglove threatening her? “I beg your pardon.”

“We have some matters to discuss. I thought that this evening might be a good time. While your father is gone.”

“What could we possibly have to discuss that we could not say in front of Papa?”

“This concerns your position in my household.”

Ellie's mouth fell open. “My position in your household?”