Chapter 9
“Mrs. Shaw,” one of the maids said as Sarah stepped into the linen room, “I was only…”
She cut herself off at once. The other maid, who had been folding napkins, lowered her eyes and reached for another stack. Neither of them looked at Sarah again.
Sarah crossed to the shelves, choosing a fresh cloth for Clara’s washbasin. The quiet rang in her ears as she worked as quickly as she could. The two maids whispered only after she turned to leave, their voices quick, as though they feared she might hear them.
At breakfast, it happened again.
Sarah had just taken her seat when a footman spoke to Mrs. Ellis at the sideboard. “His Grace was here yesterday…”
He stopped mid-sentence the moment he noticed Sarah. His posture stiffened, and he busied himself with the teapot as if the conversation had never begun. Mrs. Ellis gave him a pointed look, but even she did not resume their conversation.
Sarah kept her eyes on her plate. The house felt different than it had only days before. She was not entirely sure what had happened, but she felt it each time someone stopped talking the moment she entered a room.
Later that morning, she stepped into the corridor outside the morning room and heard two maids speaking in low voices.
“…and Lady Vane said…”
They broke off once they saw her. One curtsied, and the other murmured something about needing to fetch linens from upstairs. They hurried past Sarah without meeting her eyes.
Sarah stood still for a moment, the quiet surrounding her again. The strangeness had begun the morning after the duke’s last visit, and each day since then she had noticed the same pattern.
Conversations stopped the instant she walked into a room or hallway, and glances moved away from her so quickly that she knew everyone was trying to avoid meeting her eyes. She could no longer pretend she was imagining it.
Sarah turned away from the corridor, unwilling to face another room where conversation stopped the instant she appeared.
Clara would be in the library at that hour, usually with a book open across her lap, and the thought of her daughter’s quiet presence comforted Sarah more than anything ever could.
She found Clara in the far corner, curled into one of the smaller chairs with a volume of stories balanced carefully in her hands.
Clara looked up at once, her face brightening. Sarah crossed the room and sat beside her, grateful for the moment. Clara leaned lightly against her arm and continued reading, and Sarah delighted in their silence rather than the strained quiet she had been encountering.
A maid entered a short while later. She stopped just inside the doorway when she saw Sarah, her posture tightening.
“Mrs. Shaw,” she said, her voice too soft. “Lady Vane requests you in the sitting room.”
The maid’s cheeks flushed, and she kept her eyes fixed on the floor rather than meet Sarah’s gaze. She waited only long enough for Sarah to rise, then stepped back quickly, eager to leave the room.
Sarah touched Clara’s shoulder. “I will return shortly.”
Clara nodded, her attention shifting back to her book.
Sarah followed the maid through the corridor. The girl walked a few paces farther ahead than necessary, keeping just enough distance to avoid the need for conversation. When she reached the sitting room, the maid opened the door and stepped aside without a word.
Sarah entered and saw the discomfort on Lady Vane’s face before a word was spoken.
“Mrs. Shaw,” Lady Vane said, “I must speak with you about something unpleasant.” She gestured toward the chair opposite her. “Please sit.”
Sarah crossed the room and took the seat, her hands resting lightly in her lap. She waited, unsure what she was about to hear.
“There have been concerns raised,” Lady Vane continued. “About your conduct. And about the amount of time you spend in the duke’s company.”
Sarah felt as if she had just been slapped across the face. “My Lady, I have done nothing improper.” Her voice came out more quickly than she intended. “I would never risk my position here. I would never risk Clara’s security.”
Lady Vane’s expression softened. “I believe you. I do. But I cannot allow gossip to threaten my household. I must be cautious.”
Sarah felt her breath catch for a moment before she could speak again. “I have behaved as any companion should.”
“I know,” Lady Vane said quietly. “But the talk has begun, and I cannot pretend it has not.”
“I do not understand why anyone would say such things,” Sarah said, looking down and trying to keep her voice even.
Lady Vane folded her hands. “People notice more than we expect, and they speak when they should not.”
Sarah pictured Clara in the library, settled into her favorite chair with a book open across her lap, completely comfortable and unaware of any of it. “My Lady,” she said, “please tell me what I must do.”
“For now,” Lady Vane replied, “be cautious. Limit any appearance that might encourage talk. I do not wish to dismiss you, but I must protect my home.”
Sarah nodded, though her thoughts were already racing.
“Thank you, My Lady.” She rose and left the room, keeping her steps slow until she reached the corridor.
The accusation stayed with her, unwelcome and impossible to ignore.
She could not stop thinking about Clara and what any of it might mean for her future.
She went straight to the library. Clara was still in her chair with her book open, comfortable and absorbed in the page. Sarah sat beside her and stayed there, determined to give her daughter every bit of attention she could.
She spent the rest of the afternoon with the child, reading with her, helping her with her lessons, and keeping to the quieter parts of the house. She avoided the staff as much as possible, unwilling to face another lowered voice or another glance that moved away too quickly.
She remained close to Clara until the day’s light began to fade, still unsure what the afternoon’s conversation would mean for them both.
That evening, after settling Clara to sleep, Sarah went downstairs for tea, hoping the warmth might calm her. The kitchen was still busy when she arrived. The long worktable had been cleared, and the servants were finishing the last of the washing.
The hearth gave off a steady glow, and the smell of bread and roasted meat lingered from supper. Mrs. Ellis stood near the basin, overseeing the final scrubbing of the pans. She spoke quietly to one of the younger maids, then checked the shelves to be sure everything had been put away properly.
When the last servant left, Mrs. Ellis noticed Sarah near the doorway. She wiped her hands on her apron and stepped closer. “Mrs. Shaw, you look troubled. Sit a moment.” Her voice was gentle, and she nodded toward one of the small stools near the table.
Sarah sat down and kept her back straight, her posture confident and composed, despite the worry in her eyes.
Mrs. Ellis poured her a cup of tea and set it in front of her. “Tell me what has happened,” she said, kindly.
The question broke through the restraint Sarah had been holding since morning. She tried to speak calmly, but her voice wavered. “Lady Vane spoke with me. She said there have been concerns about my conduct.”
Mrs. Ellis’s head snapped up. “Your conduct? What fault could be found in your conduct? From all I have observed, you have been the very picture of duty and proper behavior.”
Sarah sighed. “She said people have been speaking about the time I spend near the duke.”
Mrs. Ellis’s expression tightened. “That is nonsense. You have done nothing to invite such talk.”
“I cannot lose this position. It is the first stable home Clara and I have had since my husband died,” Sarah said, her voice trembling.
Mrs. Ellis’s expression tightened with sympathy. “It is unfair.”
Sarah hesitated, then looked up at her. “Mrs. Ellis, have you heard any of this? Surely you must have heard murmurs.”
“Some,” she admitted, letting out a slow breath. “Most of it has been disgruntled murmuring. People repeating what they do not understand.”
Sarah waited, needing to know the truth of what had been happening around her.
Mrs. Ellis continued, her voice lower. “A few of the servants have whispered about your closeness to His Grace. And they have spoken about the privileges that come with being Lady Vane’s companion. It is foolish talk, but it spreads quickly.”
Sarah looked at her and furrowed her brow in confusion. “I have not invited any closeness. I have not done anything untoward.”
Mrs. Ellis nodded. “I know that.”
Sarah inhaled slowly. “What privileges do they mean? I have only the rooms Lady Vane assigned to me. I take my meals where she instructs, and I accompany her when she asks. There is nothing more.”
“They speak of the freedom you have to move through the house, and they speak of the trust Lady Vane places in you.” Mrs. Ellis paused for a moment before continuing. “And they speak of how the duke greets you with courtesy. None of it is improper, but people twist what they see.”
Sarah looked down at her tea as she absorbed what she had just heard. Finally, she looked up, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Lady Vane said she must protect her household. I do not know how far this has gone.”
Mrs. Ellis rested a hand on the table. “You must not blame yourself. People talk when they should not, but it does not mean their words carry truth.”
Sarah nodded, grateful for the kindness, but still feeling uneasy. She could not shake the feeling that the matter had already moved beyond her control.
Sarah thanked Mrs. Ellis quietly. Mrs. Ellis took the teacup from the table and carried it back to the basin, giving Sarah a small, reassuring nod before turning to tidy the rest of the kitchen.
Sarah left the room and walked upstairs, trying to settle her mind. When she reached her chamber, she lit a candle, the small flame giving the room a gentle glow. She sat at the writing desk and pulled a sheet of paper toward her.
She began to write to Eloise, knowing it would help her sort everything out.
My dearest Eloise,
I hope you will forgive another letter so soon, but I find myself unable to rest tonight.
There has been talk in the household, and Lady Vane felt obliged to speak to me about it.
She said there are concerns about my conduct and about the time I spend near the duke.
I have done nothing to invite such attention, yet the rumors seem to grow regardless.
I cannot pretend this has not unsettled me. I fear what it may mean for my position, and for Clara’s future. This place has given her a steadiness she has not known since her father’s death, and the thought of losing it frightens me more than I can say.
I know you cannot be here, but writing to you brings me some comfort. Your counsel has always comforted me, and I hope you will write when you are able. I will send this first thing in the morning.
With affection,
Sarah
Sarah sealed the letter carefully, pressing the wax until it cooled. She set it aside for the morning post, then prepared herself for bed.
Sleep did not come easily. Every time she closed her eyes, she thought of Clara sleeping soundly in the next room, safe and secure only because the position allowed it.
The rumors, the lowered voices, and Lady Vane’s expression all returned, again and again.
She lay awake for a long time before exhaustion finally pulled her into a restless sleep.
Morning came with pale light through the curtains. Sarah rose, dressed, and helped Clara prepare for the day. They ate breakfast quietly in the small sitting room near their chambers.
Clara finished her bread and looked up at her mother. “May we go to the garden today? The sun is shining so pretty and I think the flowers will be very colorful. We may also see the rabbit again, and we can look for the ladybug.”
Sarah managed a small smile. “Yes. Being outdoors would be lovely.”
Clara brightened, and Sarah felt a brief moment of calm as they stepped into the corridor. They had not gone far when a maid approached, stopping with a slight bow.
“Mrs. Shaw,” she said, her voice careful. “Lady Vane requests you in the morning room.”
Sarah nodded. “Thank you.” She turned to Clara, then looked back at the maid. “Would you take her to the garden for a little while?”
“Of course, Mrs. Shaw.”
Clara’s face fell, her earlier excitement fading.
Sarah saw it immediately and softened her voice.
“My dear, go with her and begin looking for the rabbit. It may be near the hedges this morning. And perhaps the ladybug is having its breakfast on the roses. Start searching, and I will come to you as soon as I can.”
Clara nodded and took the maid’s hand. Together they walked toward the garden doors, Clara glancing back once before stepping outside.
Sarah watched them for a moment, then turned toward the morning room, her thoughts already tightening around what she feared she might hear.
Lady Vane stood near the window of the morning room, her posture composed but her expression troubled. She turned as Sarah approached.
“Mrs. Shaw,” she said, “I must speak with you again.”
Sarah waited. She pressed her hands against her sides to keep them from trembling, but her pulse was racing.
Lady Vane folded her hands before continuing. “The rumors have not quieted. In fact, they have begun to reach visitors outside the household. I do not believe them, but I cannot allow the reputation of my home to be threatened.”
She paused. “I know it has been only a short time since we last spoke, Mrs. Shaw. But it has come to my attention that the talk is worse than I first understood. It is more pointed, and more persistent. I had hoped the matter would fade, but it is far worse than I knew. I must act before it reflects poorly on the reputation of the household.”
Sarah knew what this meant before another word was spoken. She looked at the ground and waited for what she knew was inevitable.
Lady Vane’s voice softened. “You and Clara must leave.”
For a moment, Sarah could only stand there, blinking away tears. Though she knew it was coming, hearing the words was still a shock.
Finally, she gathered herself, and looked up at Lady Vane, keeping her composure. “Thank you, My Lady, for all your kindness.”
Lady Vane looked genuinely pained. “I wish matters were different.”
Sarah nodded quickly and left the room. As she stepped into the corridor, only one thought echoed through her mind.
Once again, Clara and I have lost the place we began to call home.