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She made her way toward Lilian’s house and expelled a breath of relief. Finally, she would be able to unburden all her worries to her good friend.

She walked toward her house and knocked on the door. Isabel heard noises from the inside, but nobody opened the door to her.

She knocked again.

When the door finally opened, a young man almost stumbled into her in his haste to leave the house. “Oh, pardon me, my lady. But I have to go! Need to find….” He was speaking as he was hurrying away, but Isabel didn’t make out the last words he had said.

He needs to find what? No matter. The door was open, so Isabel stepped inside.

A light scream or a half-growl sounded from somewhere inside the house.

Isabel rushed toward the main room. “What’s happening?”

She encompassed the little room with her gaze. The usually cozy chamber with lots of items in disarray looked empty save for the blankets on the floor, strips of cloth, and basins with water.

Lilian sat on a pile of blankets, her face red, her forehead glistening with sweat, holding the hand of Mary, the medicine woman of the village. Lilian’s other hand was on her belly, and she was breathing erratically.

“Lilian, are you well?” Isabel looked around in shock. Mary looked at Isabel queerly, took the wet cloth, and wiped Lilian’s forehead. “Sorry, I can see you’re unwell. Can I help?”

Lilian looked up, and her face split in a smile. “How glad I am that you are here!” she cried. “I am having a babe! But the dratted thing wouldn’t come out.”

Isabel tensed at the words. What did that mean? “How can I help?” She rushed toward Lilian.

“Do you—argh!” Lilian growled again. Then blinked up at Isabel. “Do you have more almonds with you?”

* * *

Rhys had spent the entire day with Millie.

When he first entered her room, she had shot up and ran to embrace him. He stood like that, holding her close to his body, his nose burrowed in her hair until she wriggled out of his arms.

She was as exuberant and happy as ever. It was as if nothing had happened.

He had spoken to Edith while Millicent breakfasted, and the nursemaid had assured him that aside from the slight bruising, his daughter was unharmed. She’d said that his wife’s reaction to witnessing the event and Millie’s subsequent embarrassment were a bigger reason for Millicent’s tears than the caning itself.

Rhys decided not to dwell on the matter any longer. The governess was gone, and Rhys was not about to let Millicent out of his sight again.

He took a quick bath in his wife’s room, and after that, they ventured outside and spent the entire day running around the estate, slinging rocks, and playing hide and seek.

Millicent kept telling Rhys about the games Isabel had taught her and all the things they had done together. She couldn’t keep silent about how much she had bonded with the lady of the house, and Rhys couldn’t help but feel guilt toward the way he had treated his wife.

On the bright side, Millicent not once mentioned the old governess.

It was a good sign, wasn’t it?

Rhys didn’t want to be reminded about the foul old woman more than Millicent did. Perhaps less so.

Later on, Button was brought in with the carriage from the Thornsby estate. Rhys had left in the early morning on horseback, and he could not very well force his bear of a dog to keep up with the breakneck pace.

Millicent was extremely happy to have Button back, so they played with him in the field until the clouds stretched the sky, thunder rumbled above their heads, and raindrops started falling onto their heads. They needed to go back home, and Rhys needed to apologize to his wife.

He owed her more than a simple apology. Perhaps a grovel at her feet. She did not deserve his ire, and he would make sure to make her understand. He was so angry at himself. He felt so helpless and weak that that weakness had made him lash out.

He would never do that again. And if he did, she had his full permission to hit him over the head with any object by her hand.

He smiled, thinking how she would surely like to exercise that right. She had thrown a glove in his face once, and he imagined she would have loved it to be a piece of furniture.

They came upon the house, and Millicent looked at him queerly. “Why didn’t Lady Isabel come with us?”