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not to spend another beastly moment feeling sorry for herself, Madeline rose, slipped her tiny stockinged feet into her black buckled shoes and prepared to venture downstairs.
    At the top of the wide staircase, however, she heard someone call her name. In one of the rooms, lying on a huge, fluffy, canopied bed, was a pretty and very pregnant young woman. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen.
    â€œYou must be Madeline,” she said cheerfully. “Mrs. Dalton told me you were sleeping. Come in, come in.”
    Madeline moved all the way into the room.
    â€œI’m Mary, Jacob’s wife. He’s off in the fields today, planting the spring crop. You’ll meet him at supper.”
    â€œI’ll look forward to it,” Madeline replied. She glanced discreetly at Mary’s full belly with an open book leaning upon it. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
    â€œI’m fine. I’ve had some pains and the doctor suggested I rest until the baby comes next month. Please sit down.”
    Madeline sat in an upholstered chair beside the bed.
    Eyes warm and caring, Mary leaned forward and gently touched Madeline’s hand. “Mrs. Dalton told me what happened—that you thought you were coming here to marry Mr. Coates. I felt terrible when I heard it. It must have been very distressing for you. Are you all right?”
    Surprise, more than anything, shook Madeline. Mary may have been young, but she was astute.
    â€œOf course, I’m fine. It was just a misunderstanding.”
    â€œMisunderstandings can sometimes be more than that.”
    Madeline swallowed hard over the lump that suddenly rose in her throat. “Yes, but honestly, Mr. Coates and I were strangers to each other. There were no hurt feelings. I should have guessed something was wrong initially, before I set out for Nova Scotia. I should have known he would want Diana. They were close once, after all.”
    Mary nodded and leaned back, but Madeline suspected that the young woman knew what was really going on.
    A part of her wanted to confide in Mary, but Madeline bit back the urge. If in time, Adam did marry Diana, Madeline would never want anyone to know how she herself had loved him. She didn’t want everyone to pity her as the poor, brokenhearted spinster sister. That would be the worst fate imaginable. Her pride would never be able to endure it.
    Madeline politely stood. “I should go downstairs to see if I can help with supper. Can I get you anything?”
    â€œNo, thank you. Mrs. Dalton usually brings me supper on a tray.”
    Feeling a little shaken, Madeline nodded and left the room, promising to return later for a visit and perhaps a game of cards. She walked down the stairs, sliding her fingers along the smooth oak handrail that swept round in a scroll to the newel post at the bottom. She ventured into the stone kitchen at the back of the house to find Mrs. Dalton at the large fireplace, spooning drippings over a crispy-looking hen on a spit. The glorious smells of roasting poultry filled Madeline’s senses and her mouth began to water.
    Mrs. Dalton wiped her hands on her apron and straightened, then noticed Madeline in the doorway. “Hello, dear. Come in and sit down.”
    Madeline moved into the room. “After six weeks at sea, Mrs. Dalton, this kitchen smells like paradise. Can I help you with anything?”
    â€œNot today. You’ve just arrived. Tomorrow you can help.”
    Just then, footsteps pounded over the wide floorboards in the center hall and stopped in the doorway.Madeline, somehow recognizing the sound of Adam’s boots, turned with a sudden nervous sensation in her belly.
    â€œMiss Oxley, may I speak with you, please?” His tone was serious and steely.
    She swallowed. “Of course.”
    He led her into his private study, a large room with dark green wallpaper and a fireplace flanked by bookcases built into the walls. The rug was soft under her