Miss Winter seemed to sehe arrival of Judith, for when the housekeeper looked around the edge of the door, she found us in silence. She had brought me cocoa on a tray but also offered to replace me if I wao sleep. I shook my head. “I’m all right, thanks.”
Miss Winter also refused when Judith reminded her she could take more of the white tablets if she hem.
When Judith was gone, Miss Winter closed her eyes again.
‘How is the wolf?“ I asked.
‘Quiet in the er,“ she said. ”Why shouldn’t he be? He is certain of his victory. So he’s tent to bide his time. He knows I’m not going to make a fuss. We’ve agreed to terms.“
‘What terms?“
‘He is going to let me finish my story, and then I am going to let him finish me.“
She told me the story of the fire, while the wolf ted down the words.
I had never given a great deal of thought to the baby before he arrived. I had sidered the practical aspects of hiding a baby in the house, certainly, and I had a plan for his future. If we could keep him secret for a time, my iion was to allow his preseo be known later. Though it would no doubt be whispered about, he could be introduced as the orphan child of a distant member of the family, and if people chose to wonder about his exact parehey were free to do so; nothing they could do would force us to reveal the truth. When making these plans, I had envisaged the baby as a difficulty that o be resolved. I had not taken into at that he was my flesh and blood. I had not expected to love him.
He was Emmeline’s, that was reason enough. He was Ambrose’s. That was a subject I did not dwell on. But he was also mine. I marveled at his pearly skin, at the pink jut of his lips, at the tentative movements of his tiny hands. The ferocity of my desire to protect him overwhelmed me: I wao protect him for Emmeline’s sake, to protect her for his sake, to protect the two of them for myself. Watg him and Emmeliogether, I could n my eyes away. They were beautiful. My one desire was to keep them safe. And I soon learhat they needed a guardian to keep them safe.
Adeline was jealous of the baby. More jealous than she had been of Hester, more jealous than of me. It was only to be expected: Emmeline had been fond of Hester, she loved me, but her of these affes had touched the supremacy of her feeling for Adeline. But the baby… ah, the baby was different. The baby usurped all.
I should not have been surprised at the extent of Adeline’s hatred. I knew how ugly her anger could be, had withe extent of her violence. Yet the day I first uood the lengths she might go to, I could scarcely believe it. Passing Emmeline’s bedroom, I silently pushed the door open to see if she was still sleeping. I found Adeline in the room, leaning over the crib by the bed, and something in her posture alarmed me. Hearing my step, she started, then turned and rushed past me out of the room. In her hands she clutched a small cushion.
I felt pelled to dash to the cot. The infant was sleeping soundly, hand curled by his ear, breathing his light, delicate baby breath.
Safe!
Until ime.
I began to spy on Adeline. My old days of haunting came in useful again as from behind curtains arees I watched her. There was a randomness in her as; indoors or outdoors, taking no notice of the time of day or the weather, she engaged in meaningless, repeated as. She was obeying dictates that were outside my uanding. But gradually oivity came pa
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