Chapter 21
The lamp in Ella's room burned low, and she sat on the edge of the bed a while before undressing for the night, turning the day over with something close to satisfaction.
The bread had gone better than she'd planned.
She'd meant it only as a small thing, a suggestion that would keep Maria occupied and out of the way for a couple of hours, but the effect of it had run deeper than that.
She'd watched Maria's face at supper, watched her take the compliments with a kind of confused gratitude, as though she couldn't decide whether Ella had done her a kindness or something else entirely.
That confusion was worth more than any single afternoon's work.
A woman who didn't know whether to trust her own instincts was a woman who wouldn't fight hard when the moment came to push her aside properly.
She didn't have long, though. That was the trouble sitting underneath the satisfaction. Weeks, perhaps much less, before somebody showed up and told Samson he was a wealthy man. She needed to be already married to him before that happened, otherwise he’d never believe her feelings were real.
He knew her too well for that, and it was only his childlike naivety that let him believe her now.
Ella reflected that she was lucky, in a way, that her sister had married such a fool.
If Livvy had ever showed better taste in men, she might’ve married somebody with enough smarts to question Ella’s motivation.
She blew out the lamp and told herself, once more, that it would be worth it.