“Mamma, if it’s a fever, then that settles things. I will stay ... at least for now.”
“Sarah, no.”
“But, Mamma—”
“No,” Mamma insisted, sitting up with surprising strength. “You will not postpone your life on my account any longer.”
“But if I am needed here ...?”
“Sarah Jane Summers. Do you hold my life in your hands, or does God?”
Sarah recoiled as though struck. “Well, of course God does, but—”
“Do you number my days—know the future—or does He?”
Emily sent Sarah a sympathetic look.
“He does,” she replied. “Although if you are ill, I will need—want—to look after you, after things here.”
“But I don’t want you to do that. I want you to go. Live your life. Accept the love this good man is offering.”
“Mamma, I...”
“Am I alone? Helpless?” She gestured toward Emily. “Do I not have other daughters, sons-in-law, and friends? Not to mention competent and kind retainers?”
“Yes, but should something happen...”
“Something will happen. That’s a certainty in this fallen world. Difficult things. Someone you love will disappoint you. Or fall ill. Or even, someday, die. And not living your own life will not stop any of it. My days, my health, my life are in God’s hands. And I raised you to believe that as well.”
“I know. I ... do.”
“Do you? Sometimes I wonder.” Mamma paused and moderated her tone. “I know your intentions are good and pure. But, my dear Sarah, you are not in control, as much as you or I might wish you were.”
Emily defended, “Her heart is in the right place.”
“Is it?” Mamma asked.
Sarah thought of the words Callum had sung, about leaving his heart with her. Perhaps her heart hadnotbeen in the right place.
Chagrined, Sarah hung her head. Then a different sensation washed over her, and she breathed it in and released a long sigh—released much more as well. Her hands, which had been fisted, opened and relaxed.
Bibi knocked and poked her head in. “Dr. Clarke is here, ma’am.”
“Good. Show him in.”
“Shall we stay with you?” Sarah asked.
“No, my dear. Not this time, thank you.”
Leaving the room, Sarah saw Callum sitting on a bench in the hall, elbows on his knees, head bowed in an attitude of prayer. He rose when she came out. Sarah strode up to him, took his face in her hands, and gave him a firm, decisive kiss. “My feelings and wishes have not changed, but they may need to be postponed a bit, depending on what the doctor says.”
“I understand.”
“Now, please excuse me. I feel the need to keep busy to distract myself from worry.”
“I understand that too.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and then Sarah hurried away.
A mere thirty minutes later, Sarah was busy belowstairs, helping sort and put away an order from the greengrocer for Mrs. Besley, when Bibi came down and mentioned seeing the doctor go.
