An anxious Mrs. Turrill led Dr. Parrish and his wife into the drawing room. The couple looked uncertain, and Hannah wondered what, if anything, the housekeeper had whispered to them. But they looked only curious at this point. The worst was yet to come. She would have to deliver the news herself.
The next hour passed in a painful blur: disillusioned people, once-compassionate faces turning flinty, eyes freezing over, frowns of shock and disappointment replacing the smiling faces of her memories. Mrs. Parrish was, of course, the first to denounce her. Hadn’t she said all along there was something odd about this supposed “lady”? She sent Ben to fetch Edgar, took great satisfaction in telling him the news when he arrived, then sent the shocked and disapproving young man to alert the magistrate to the impostor in their midst.
But the worst was Dr. Parrish. Stunned speechless and bentover in pain as though he had been dealt a mortal blow by a bosom friend. Presented with such a clear picture of her betrayal, Hannah did not even attempt to defend herself. Mrs. Turrill was silent as well, although she remained at Hannah’s side.
Edgar returned and announced that the local magistrate, Lord Shirwell, was occupied with houseguests at present, but would hear their case in his office two days hence.
If only Sir John had not left, Hannah thought. Or even Mr. Lowden. But she must face this alone. Well, not completely alone—Mrs. Turrill had not left her. Had God?
Mrs. Parrish took charge, fawning over Marianna with compliments, inviting her to stay at the Grange with them, and asking if they ought not lock Miss Rogers in her room so she would not be tempted to flee.
Marianna declined the offer with pretty gratitude, insisting she should like to stay in her “own home” at last. And, would not a manservant posted as watch outside the house be sufficient? After all, she and Mrs. Turrill would remain on hand to be sure Miss Rogers didn’t stray.
Hannah sat in a haze through it all. It felt like another murky dream from which she couldn’t awaken—the cold weight of it pressed down on her. This time she would sink for sure.
Eventually, the arrangements were agreed upon, a watch posted, and plans made for an early departure to the magistrate’s in two days’ time. Then Mrs. Parrish led a silent and bewildered Dr. Parrish home.
Hannah walked numbly upstairs to the nursery. Becky, who had evidently overheard some of the conversation below, sat huddled on her bed in the corner.
Daniel lay in the cradle, awake and cooing over a drooled fist in his mouth. Hannah took him in her arms and held him close, stroking his little downy head and feeling the tears she’d held at bay fill her eyes and roll down her cheeks at last.
She felt Mrs. Turrill’s warm hand on her shoulder. “What will you do, my dear? What will you say?”
“I don’t know. What can I say? Perhaps I should take Danny and leave. Tonight.”
“If you run, everyone will assume you are guilty.”
“I am guilty.”
“Not of everything she accuses you of. Not half.”
Alarmed, Becky asked, “What is it, Miss Han—uh, my lady. What’s wrong?”
“It’s all right, Becky. You can call me Hannah now. Everyone knows. Our secret is over.”
“Are we in trouble?”
“You are not in trouble. But I am, yes.” At least she hoped Becky was in no trouble. She would have to find a way to make sure of that.
Becky asked, “And what about Danny?”
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut. Whatwouldbecome of Danny? The thought of being permanently separated from her son terrified her.
“Shall I hide him?” Becky asked, eyes wild. “I saw Ben out front, but he wouldn’t stop me. He’s fond of me, I know. I could raise Danny as my own, if they take you away.”
“Becky!” Mrs. Turrill chided. “Don’t say such a thing.” She softened her tone. “I know you meant it kindly, my dear, but Miss Hannah is Danny’s mother and always shall be.”
Hannah turned to Mrs. Turrill. “But what if they send me to prison ... or worse?”
“Surely it won’t come to that.” Mrs. Turrill laid a tender hand on her arm. “If worse comes to worse, I will care for Danny myself. And no doubt Becky will help me. You needn’t fear for his future.”
Hannah nodded, suddenly remembering the trust Sir John had offered. “Whatever happens to me, promise me you will let Sir John know where Danny is, will you? He will help you both.”
“Of course I will.”
“Did you know?” Hannah asked the older woman.
“Not everything. But I knew there was more to the story.”
