Page 122 of Eleanor’s Earrings

“Fifteen,” she said.

Eleanor pressed her lips together.

Nathaniel leaned close. “You want to laugh.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“I am responsible for discipline.”

“Then discipline them after you laugh.”

She lasted three seconds.

The sound escaped, and soon half the awning was laughing with her.

Mr. Daugherty looked over suspiciously.

“What is so funny?”

“Nothing,” Eleanor called.

He frowned at the sky. “This rain is ridiculous.”

Mrs. Bell made another mark.

“Sixteen.”

Mr. Daugherty walked away muttering.

Nathaniel wiped his eyes. “I may have underestimated the danger posed by your family.”

“You definitely did.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Yes.”

“Too late.”

The words were playful, but his gaze held hers.

Eleanor felt the now-familiar warmth move through her. Too late. She suspected it was too late for either of them to turn back.

Grace had been quiet since Lucy’s disappearance.

Eleanor found her later that morning sitting with Anna Turner, carefully sewing the doll’s torn dress.

“You do not have to repair that,” Eleanor said.

Grace kept her eyes on the tiny seam. “I know.”

“Lucy was wrong to go back for it.”

“I know that too.”

“Then why?”