Chapter 10: Sanctuary

Clara gave Daphne the blue guest room at the end of the east hall.

She did it fast, before she could think, because she knew what she would have wanted in the other life if she had asked at a door like that one.

The housekeeper brought towels and tea and a dry nightgown.

Daphne sat on the edge of the bed with her damp hair in her hands and cried the way she always did, prettily, with no noise.

"Chase hit me," she said. "He says I embarrassed him at the gala. He says it's all my fault. I didn't know where else to go."

"Does Daddy know?"

"Daddy thinks Chase is a saint."

That was true.

Clara looked at the bruise on her cheekbone.

It was real and dark and neatly placed, high on the bone, where it would show in any light.

In the other life she had seen Daphne cry at her funeral, in front of three hundred people.

She had been very lovely at it.

"You can stay tonight," Clara said. "Tomorrow we'll talk about what comes next."

"You're an angel."

"I'm not."

She left the door open a hand's width as she went out.

Alexander was waiting in the hall with his cane, and his face told her nothing.

"You let her in," he said.

"It's raining."

"Is that the reason?"

Clara folded her arms.

"I want to see what she does. Better under my roof than out there with Chase."

"My roof," Alexander said, mildly. "Rule one, if I recall. You live here."

"Are you objecting?"

"No. I'd have put her in the room closest to the stairs, that's all. Quieter to listen from."

She stared at him, and a laugh got out of her.

"You aren't a polite man at all."

"I told you that."

"What are you hiding from me, Alexander?"

His mouth moved at one corner.

"Rule three, Mrs. Tilghman," he said gently.

She hit his arm, and he let her, and went off down the hall with the cane tapping, almost smiling.

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