That evening, after bathing and replacing my work clothes with dinner attire, I passed by the closed door of the girls’ room. From inside came the high-pitched voices of Fiona and Cymbeline, then Miss Cooper’s lower one. The boys were not in their room, so I assumed they must be bathing. Since she had everything under control, I headed downstairs to my library to spend a few minutes reading by the fire.
I sat in my favorite leather chair. My muscles were pleasantly tired from the day’s work. I was looking forward to a warm supper and more time with my kids and the beautiful woman who had appeared out of nowhere in my house and life. Miss Cooper had offered to put together a hearty soup. Usually on Saturdays, Lizzie left us slices of cold ham and a German-style potato salad.
I vacillated between euphoria and utter mortification at the way Miss Cooper’s eyes had shone when I’d so brazenly spoken my thoughts out loud. I was so preoccupied by my juvenile misstep and the periodic images of her flushed skin and lips the color of ripe raspberries that it was impossible to concentrate on the book in my lap.
After a few minutes of blissful quiet where I contem
plated all things Miss Cooper instead of reading, Jasper announced the arrival of Mrs. Cole.
“Shall I send her in?” he asked.
I rubbed my eyes and set aside my book. “Yes, please.” Weary, I rose from the chair and prepared myself for the inevitable onslaught of her rage. I must remember what I promised Samuel. I was to look after her. If that meant I had to take the brunt of her anger, then so be it. Seconds later, she burst into the room. “Thank you for seeing me,” Rachel said.
“Please, have a seat. Jasper can bring tea.”
“No, I can’t stay. I’ve come to say I’m sorry for acting like a spoiled child.”
“You didn’t,” I said. “There’s no need.”
She bounced around my library like a coiled spring, all the while working a lace handkerchief between her long fingers. “I’m angry and took it out on you, which wasn’t fair. You’ve been nothing but good to me. To us. Did you know you’re the only one who stood by Samuel when he came back with me?”
Standing near the fire, I gripped my hands together behind my back. “Grief makes us say strange things. You mustn’t think about it another moment.”
“Wilber, my brother, has come. I feel safer with him at the house.” She sank into the couch, as if suddenly exhausted. “He’s ashamed of me—keeping us all hidden like mole rats. He thinks the children should go to school. He said my fear shouldn’t keep them from opportunity.”
“What do you think?” I asked quietly as I sat across from her.
“I think what I’ve always thought. It’s best to stay away from trouble.” She spread the handkerchief over her lap. “That said, I’ve decided to send them to school. Wilber will drive them.” With her head tilted downward, she spoke so softly I leant forward to hear her better. “I should never have come here in the first place. Shouldn’t have let myself fall in love with Samuel.”
“In the history of humankind, I don’t think we’ve ever been successful in denying the heart’s desires.”
She looked up at me. “What about you? Do you ever curse yourself for falling in love with Ida?”
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say how I’d cursed God and my own foolish heart. How could this be the woman I’d pledged my life to? I didn’t say any of those things, of course. What good would it have done Rachel to hear how broken our union had been? “She gave me five wonderful children. For this I’m grateful.”
“When does the gratitude come back? Right now, I’m just so mad at him.”
“I’m not sure it’s the same for everyone,” I said. “My feelings for Ida were complicated. By the end, I was so twisted up in guilt and contempt and fear that I couldn’t even recall my early feelings of love for her. Now, though, I remember the few good times we had.” I smiled at the memory of the first time I’d been introduced to Ida at her father’s apartment in Manhattan. She’d looked lovely and pristine in a white dress, and yet her eyes had portrayed a wild recklessness I’d been drawn to. “The initial qualities that attracted me to her were the ones that inevitably broke me.”
Rachel’s brown eyes had softened. “We were never sure exactly what went on over here.”
“She was very sick for a long time.” I kept it at that. The secrets of Ida’s troubles would remain within this house. I had a strange sensation sometimes that if I spoke about them, even here with my trusted staff and the children, it would make the terror of those times remain within these walls and taint any future in which there was more laughter than tears. “There was nothing I could do to help her.”
“We suspected as much,” Rachel said. “Samuel was never one to ask.”
“No, most men don’t. Although we know anyway.”
“I’m sorry we weren’t better friends to you.”
“You were. Samuel was always there when I needed to go fishing or be outside. Seeing him happy with you gave me a great deal of joy.”
She twisted her handkerchief around one finger like a bandage as she spoke. “Between Samuel and me, it was good. We didn’t always agree, but we respected each other. From the beginning, it was as if we’d always been together, and then those babies came, and I had everything I could ever want. I’ve always been strong. A person like me had to be, God knows, in this world that’s been set up to bring me down on my knees at every turn. But this. Going on. Living. I can’t imagine how I will.”
“You will.” I’d wondered the same after Ida’s death. I could remember wanting nothing more than to sleep. To shut away everything. But I had to continue on for the children. I had to make sure their childhood wasn’t only about their mother’s illness and death. I’d wondered how the children would ever be happy again. Theo’s pinched, drawn face the night after he’d found her lying dead in the snow hovered before me. I blinked to get rid of the picture. “I thought the same, but somehow you do.”
Footsteps down the stairs, followed by voices and laughter, interrupted our conversation. Rachel startled at the noise. “Are those the children? What’s happened to the terrifying nanny?”
“She left. We have Miss Cooper now.”