It’s a lot to take in. That Elliott was right and that Cecily is likely alive and on the run. Maria would be within her rights to take this information to her father and demand that they begin to search for Cecily in earnest. But somehow, Sally doesn’t think that’s what she’ll do.
“I wasn’t very good to Cecily,” Maria says as soon as the carriage is out of sight.
“The night of the fire?”
“And all the days and nights leading up to it.”
Sally isn’t entirely surprised.
“I knew what Elliott was doing. And I could have tried to stop it. Tried to help her.”
“Well,” says Sally, “keep this visit to yourself, and it sounds like you still can.”
GILBERT
Gilbert shows back up atthe kitchen house while Maddie’s cleaning up from dinner.
“You seen Sara?”
Maddie nods her head in the direction of the loft. “She’s up there, shutting her eyes for a few minutes. Elizabeth been running her ragged.”
“I got to talk to her,” he says apologetically. “It can’t wait.”
He’s on the top rung of the ladder when Sara calls his name in that soft, sleepy voice of hers. “Gillie?”
“Hey, baby,” he says, and crawls across the floor to her pallet, where she is curled up like a roly-poly. “You got a little room on that thing for me?”
She nods and scooches to one side, giving him enough space to crawl up behind her and wrap her in his arms. She smells like lavender and lye, and when his head is burrowed in her neck, he lets out a tired sigh. “This is all I wanted these last few days.”
She knows it. Still half-asleep, she reaches for him and pats his face.
He allows himself to lie there for a few precious minutes before he lets the real world in. “Lecretia told me they got word Louisa didn’t make it?”
She doesn’t say anything, but her body starts to vibrate.
“I’m so sorry, Sara.”
“I tell myself that, one of these days, she would have turned against me. Found her own ways to make life harder, same as Elizabeth does.”
“Maybe,” says Gilbert softly. “But you mothered that girl since she was a baby. You allowed to weep.”
It’s like getting his permission was all she needed, because she starts sobbing and doesn’t stop. While she cries, he holds her tight and listens to Maddie banging around below. God bless Maddie for acting like she can’t hear a thing.
Finally, Sara’s body grows still in his arms, and he gets around to asking, “Did Phyllis Johnston come by today?”
“Big white lady?” she asks.
“That’s the one.”
“Came with her husband. Went straight into General Preston’s study and didn’t come out for at least a quarter of an hour.”
“Was Elizabeth in there?”
“Lord, no. She ain’t fit to hold her own soup spoon, much less receive company.”
She rolls over onto her back so she can look at his face. “Why you want to know?”
“Mrs. Johnston came to see me yesterday. She’s grateful for what I did over at the theater and is taking up a collection. Wants to buy my freedom.”
