“I am sorry to hear it and will visit her as soon as I can. But, Sarah, there will always be something.”
Sarah groaned. “I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”
New Year’s Eve would fall on a Sunday that year, so they all joined forces to give the house a thorough cleaning on Friday and Saturday instead. “Redding up the house,” as Mr. Henshall called it, was another pre-Hogmanay tradition. They would also eat or discard any remaining perishable food to start the year fresh.
Emily was needed at the printer’s again, so she was excused from her share of the cleaning. Sarah was relieved when Cora, and even the Henshalls, insisted on taking part.
Mamma began by sweeping the carpet in the library-office with a brush, but when Sarah found her leaning against a bookcase, fanning herself, Sarah suggested she sit at the desk and sort through old newspapers and magazines instead, which would be less taxing.
“Sorry,” Mamma said as she sat heavily in the chair. “Not feeling my best today.”
After finishing the carpet there, Sarah went into the drawing room to sweep that carpet as well. Then she held the ladder for Mr. Henshall as he dusted the candle chandeliers and frames of paintings high on the walls while Effie dusted the furniture.
Eventually, Emily returned from the printer’s and brought the post with her. She handed a letter to Effie.
Effie accepted it with some surprise. Glancing at the handwriting, she said, “It’s from Aunt Isla.”
Feather duster forgotten, Effie plopped down on the sofa, opened it, and read quickly. “Well, that’s good news.”
Mr. Henshall descended the ladder. “What does she say?”
“It seems she and Granda’ are getting on well after their former rift, and he continues in improved health.”
“That is good news,” Mr. Henshall said, studying Effie’s profile with interest and perhaps concern.
“Aye, to be reconciled with your father after such enmity. I’m glad for her. She also says...”
Effie broke off and darted a glance at her stepfather from beneath her lashes.
“Says what?” he asked.
“Ach, ye know Aunt Isla. Just some other fanciful ideas.” Effie refolded the letter and rose, tucking it into her apron pocket. “Now, we had better get back to reddin’ up this place before the New Year.”
She retrieved the discarded feather duster and purposefully left the room.
Sarah and Mr. Henshall shared a raised-brow look. Effie eager to clean the house? Just what else had been in that letter?
Now that his sister-in-law had left her role as housekeeper, Sarah assumed Mr. Henshall would engage a more capable woman to take her place. Sarah was tempted to recommend some qualities to look for but held her tongue. It was not her place. She was not mistress of his house. Though daily she found herself wishing more and more that she was. Was Claire right? Would it not be selfish to give up her responsibilities at Sea View for a place in his life, one with its own demands and challenges?
She returned to her tasks. She had not planned to pry into Effie’s letter from her aunt—that was not her place either—but when she took the carpet brush upstairs, she found Effie sitting on her unmade bed, rereading the letter.
She looked up and seemed pleased to see her. “Sarah, may I tell ye somethin’?”
“Certainly. If you’d like.”
Effie leaned forward and pulled her dressing gown off the room’s single chair. Then Sarah sat, facing her.
“Aunt Isla has asked me to come and live with her and Granda’ in Perth.”
Sarah’s stomach dropped, but she endeavored to keep her expression and tone neutral. “Did she?”
Effie nodded. “She said it would only be right as she and Granda’ are my kin. And that my ... Mr. Henshall could visit whenever he wished.”
“I see.” Sarah hesitated, then said, “Though when we called at Whinstone Hall, I believe your aunt mentioned Perth is rather far away.”
“Aye. Half a day or more by horse and carriage.”
“And how do you feel about the idea?” Sarah asked.
