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in his presence here tonight made her feel almost short of breath. He sat at the head of the table, his clean, white neckcloth presented in a neat ruffle, his large hands strong and sure. Why couldn’t she stop noticing how handsome he was?
    She found herself wishing most ridiculously that hehad turned out to be a crotchety old man with bad teeth and no hair.
    Forcing her eyes to stay focused on her plate, she cleared her throat, and the sound made everyone jump. All of the family was present, all except for Mary, and Madeline wondered uncomfortably if this silence was normal.
    â€œWhy is everyone so quiet?” Penelope asked.
    Madeline dabbed at her lips with a damask napkin, curious as to how Adam would answer the question.
    His voice was deep and calm. “We’re hungry, Penelope. That’s all.”
    â€œBut we’re always hungry at supper.”
    â€œPerhaps it’s because we have a guest, and we’re all trying to be on our best behavior.”
    Penelope lifted her sweet gaze toward Madeline and smiled, then returned quietly to her eating.
    A hush fell over the room again. Silverware clinked against china plates, the clock ticked audibly, and Madeline knew that they were all aware of the mix-up, and had now had time to discuss it privately amongst themselves…to whisper and pass judgments about her. Did they believe Madeline had been involved in the manipulation? Did they think she was deceitful or self-serving? Or did they suspect the embarrassing truth and sympathize with her, as Mary had?
    She dabbed at her mouth again with the napkin and decided it was long past time to make some polite conversation. “Jacob, Mary told me you were working in the fields today. What are you planting this time of year?”
    The young man across the table, dressed in a pale blue waistcoat, set down his fork before he spoke. “I finished planting potatoes in the high field, Miss Oxley. Then I rode over to Mr. Carter’s place to help him plant his.”
    Madeline noticed the lack of resemblance between Adam and his stepson, Jacob. Jacob possessed fair features—golden hair and blue eyes—while Adam and the other children had strikingly dark coloring.
    Madeline was curious, all of a sudden, about Jacob’s mother and Adam’s late wife. Had she been flaxen haired and beautiful like Diana?
    Then Madeline thought about her own appearance—her mousy brown hair, dull with frizzy curls, and her freckled complexion. It was the first time in her life she wished she had been blessed with the kind of beauty that Diana possessed. The kind of beauty that turned gentlemen’s heads and rendered them speechless when they first laid eyes upon her.
    â€œDo you have a large crop?” she asked Jacob, forcing herself to disregard such foolish, frivolous thoughts, for she had never put much stock in appearances. She’d always credited herself with having more depth of character than that.
    Besides, there was no point dreaming about what could never be.
    â€œLarge enough to last through the winter.”
    She smiled at him, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed Adam wipe his mouth with a napkin, then toss it down as if he were finished. “We raise only enough potatoes to meet our needs.” She suspectedhe was being polite for the children’s sake, not hers. “We don’t market them.”
    â€œWhat do you market?” she asked, deciding she would not let him intimidate her with his silences any longer. She would look him in the eye and if she wanted to know something about Nova Scotian farming or the dykes or even if she wanted to hear him admit that he’d been rude to her that day, she was going to say what she pleased. “Corn?”
    â€œNo. It’s the same with corn as it is with potatoes—only enough to meet our own needs. The marshes here are better suited toward pasture and meadow.” He picked up his glass and looked away, as