“I’ll take over at the stove,” said Lily. She took the long-handled wooden spoon from Fedora’s unresisting fingers. “Go on. Please sit.”
Roen pushed out Lizzie’s chair for her and she sat. Hamcame back in, triumphantly holding the ice bag over his head. Roen sent him to the front room to join his sisters and then wrapped the bag in a kitchen towel. He gave it to Fedora before he chose the chair beside her and sat. Because he was watching her, he saw her nearly imperceptible flinch. “Was it Miss Headley?” he asked without preamble.
She nodded again.
“And if Lizzie hadn’t spilled the beans and you weren’t wearing the marks from Miss Headley’s visit, did you intend to tell us she was here?”
“Yes.”
“The ice bag is for your cheek, not to hold in your hands. Here. Like this.” He cupped his cheek as if holding the ice bag to it, and she slowly mirrored his action. “That’s better. You haven’t looked at yourself, have you?”
“No.”
“Probably just as well. Are you certain it was a slap? It looks as if she delivered a haymaker.” When Fedora regarded him blankly, he explained. “That’s a swinging punch. A powerful one.”
“She slapped me.”
“Twice, according to Lizzie. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And you were supposed to convey that slap to me?”
“Yes, but I would have never—”
Roen stopped her. “I know that.” So did Victorine, he thought. She had slapped Fedora because she wanted to, not because it served a purpose. “Why did she hit you the first time?”
Fedora looked away. “That was my fault. I was impertinent.”
Lily was listening to every part of their exchange, and now she made a three-quarter turn toward the table and spoke up. “You’re going to have to explain that. It stretches my belief to imagine you were rude.”
For a few moments, Fedora said nothing as she worried her lower lip. “Lizzie came to the door while Miss Headley was demanding to know where Mr. Shepard was and attached herself to me.”
Lily nodded. “She does that when she’s feeling shy or afraid. I’m thinking it was the latter this time.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought. I’m not certain what I did to annoy Miss Headley, but she snapped at me. I think she said something about not biting the child, but I know she said she liked children.” Fedora’s attention swung to Roen when he sputtered a laugh. “That’s when I said, ‘All evidence to the contrary.’ And that’s when she slapped me.”
Roen sobered. “So you spoke your mind. It seems to me you did it in defense of Lizzie.”
“Yes, sir, but in my defense as well.”
“And Miss Headley objected to that.”
Fedora lifted the ice bag a few inches from her cheek. “Strongly.” She gently settled the bag back in place.
Roen was encouraged to see a glimmer of a smile touch Fedora’s lips. It seemed to him that she did not regret speaking out, and perhaps did not even regret the consequences of it. “I hope you will accept my apology,” he said.
“But you—”
Roen shook his head, interrupting. “Miss Headley was here because of me, and she made you suffer for the fact that I was gone from home. Did she ask after Mrs. Shepard?”
“No, but I told her that Mrs. Shepard was with you.” She frowned. “Was I wrong to do that?”
Roen and Lily spoke at the same time. “No.”
Fedora’s glance darted between them. “What should I do if she returns tomorrow?”
“She won’t. Not tomorrow. Not the day after. Don’t concern yourself with her coming back. She won’t. Not ever.”
