“No, but a good portion of our income,” Mother answered shakily.
I hated that the women in my household knew so much about our finances, that they had to worry at all. “We’ll be fine.”
“Yes. Of course. We shall manage,” Mother added.
“No, we won’t,” Tabs cried. “Not without Anna!”
Her little face scrunched, tears welling in her eyes, and I understood. I wanted nothing more than to cry and screamand shake my fists. What was money, what was this house, this view, without Anna? She’d brought life into our home, and I’d pushed her away.
“We can sell my harp,” Ginny said, serious and resolved. “It’s an antique. It will fetch a good price. Enough to pay for Anna’s expenses for a year, maybe two. It will give you time to find something more.”
A lump settled firmly in my throat. “Ginny, I would never sell your harp.”
She turned to Mother. “What else do we have? Books?”
Mother snapped her fingers, her mind alive behind her eyes. “I have a lovely jeweled necklace your father gave me when we were young. I’ve been holding on to it in case of an emergency—”
“Thisisan emergency!” Tabs said with feeling. “You have to go and get hernow, Graham, and bring herback!”
“If you love her,” Ginny said.
I nodded, feeling more the grieving boy freshly home from Cambridge than the wiser man I’d been forced to become. And certainly more humbled.
“I do.”
“Yes!” Tabs jumped up atop the settee.
“Absolutely not!” Mother scolded her. “Down!”
Ginny grinned. “Let us hope she hasn’t already come to her senses.”
Mother drew out a paper and pen and ink, handing everything to Ginny, who marked even lines from one side to another. “The harp, the necklace ...”
“I could sell my shell collection!” Tabs chimed in.
“Girls,” I said sternly. I could not allow this. “No one is selling anything.”
“Oh, and I have a ring!” Mother chimed in, waving toward the paper.
I fell into a nearby chair, listening to the three of them plan and plot and scratch nibs on paper, too exhausted to argue. I missed Anna already. Hated myself for letting her go. Would she have understood if I had told her the whole of it? How poorly we’d been living so I could build my savings? I couldn’t have borne the pity in her eyes. No, I needed to be the man she deserved. I’d give her everything first, then I’d tell her.
Minutes ticked by, when suddenly, a loud rap landed harshly upon the door.
Roland moved past the drawing room door, then announced, “Mr. Lane.”
I instantly sobered. Anna’s father? Here?
“Go,” Mother commanded me, yanking Tabs’s arm and moving toward the left front corner of the room with Ginny. She’d calculated just right, for Mr. Lane bounded into the room, puffed up and tense. Perhaps he’d heard about the Bradley account. Though the loss would hurt him much less than it had hurt me.
“Mr. Lane,” Mother said, curtseying. “What a lovely surprise to see you again so soon. We were just leaving. Good day.”
“Good day,” he said gruffly. “Everett.”
I waited until they’d left, Roland closing the doors behind them, before offering Mr. Lane a seat. “Allow me to apologize for my forwardness earlier.”
“Very good. You were out of sorts. We all were.”
I nodded. Why had he come? “Is Miss Lane well?”
