“Well, he must know you're a good sort, because he's only started smiling over the past week or so, and he cut you a nice one on first look.”
Mr. Taylor's mouth jerked around like his lips and his brains wanted two different things, and then, with another dip of his chin, he backed toward the foyer.
Kizzie drew Charlie from his place within her day suit jacket, the warmth of his body leaving a sweat stain, or she hoped it was a sweat stain, on her blouse beneath. The house fell quiet, and the room seemed to grow in size at the silence.
She sat on the nearest little settee and discreetly fed Charlie while noises happened around her, but no one entered the room. She'd just finished caring for Charlie when a woman, near her mama's age, walked in. She wore a purple gown as exquisite as the one Nella made for Kizzie, and her soft brown gaze moved from Kizzie to Charlie as Kizzie stood.
“Miss McAdams.” Her accent lilted with that otherworldly sound too.
“Yes, ma'am.” Kizzie stepped forward. “Are you Mrs. Lewis?”
“I am.” The woman folded her hands in front of her and nodded. “And I am particularly grateful for the kindness and courage you showed to my son and our servant Martin.”
“I'm just glad I happened to be going by.”
Her lips flickered with the faintest smile. “And this is your child?”
“Yes, ma'am.” Kizzie shifted Charlie so that Mrs. Lewis could get a better view of him. “How is Marty?”
“He's still unconscious, so it is difficult to ascertain his injuries, and there's no way the doctor will make it here tonight with the storm still in full force.”
“Is there something I can do?”
Again, the press of the woman's lips softened. “That is very kind of you, but I believe you've helped a great deal already this evening, and I'm certain you are tired.” She waved toward the stairs. “I've had Mrs. North prepare a room for you and Charlie. She'll also bring some supper to your room.” She gestured for Kizzie to follow.
“Thank you kindly.” Kizzie followed the woman up the grand stairs. “I'm sorry to be such trouble.”
Mrs. Lewis paused on the landing and turned. “Please, you are no trouble at all. I am grateful for you. There is a good chance you not only saved Martin's life, but Noah's as well.”
She resumed her walk.
“My father was a doctor, and I would often assist him when I was younger,” Mrs. Lewis continued, oblivious to the fact that the beautiful surroundings kept pausing Kizzie's attempts to keep up with her. “I'm not certain, but I think Martin's spine is fine. However, to ensure his mental faculties are in order, we have to wait for him to wake.”
A fact Kizzie had learned from witnessing a few falls. Hezzy Clark fell from a tree once and was never the same afterwards, but he'd stayed unconscious four whole days before coming to. Hopefully, Marty would wake up soon.
Very soon.
Because he'd already been unconscious at least an hour.
Mrs. Lewis stopped in front of an open door and gestured to the room. “Will this do for you and Charlie?”
Kizzie peeked into the room of gold and blue. Wallpaper covered the high, wood-trimmed walls, a bed bigger than any she'd ever seen stood in the center of the room, and a marble fireplace sparkled with a healthy fire and blinked light over velvety carpeted floors.
Kizzie felt pretty sure she'd stepped into a fairy story.
“It's the most beautiful room I've ever seen.”
“Good.” One corner of Mrs. Lewis’ lips tipped up, almost transforming into a full smile. “And you can see that your trunks have already been delivered.” She waved across the hall. “The washroom is there.”
“Thank you.” Kizzie barely got the words out, her head spinning with the wonder of it all.
Mrs. Lewis paused in her turn and folded her hands again. “Noah told me that you traveled alone tonight.”
A sudden wariness tightened Kizzie's spine. “Yes, ma'am.”
“Are you alone in the world?”
Kizzie swallowed and nodded. “Except for the Almighty, ma'am. I am.”
