expect you to feel that way,” another voice said, and Carolyn looked up to see Abigail Sturgess standing in the doorway. “But after what happened to our dear Lorraine, you can’t really blame Phillip for being concerned, can you?”
Carolyn’s mouth tightened in anger as she saw the misery that came over Phillip’s face, and she reached out to take his hand in her own. “I know you’re concerned for me, Abigail,” she said smoothly. “But I have no intention of losing the baby, or of dying in delivery.”
“Of course not,” Abigail agreed, her thin lips curving in a cool smile. “And you needn’t worry about anything. I shall see to it that everything in the house runs exactly as it should.”
For a moment the two women’s eyes met, and then Carolyn sighed, and allowed herself to sink into the pillows. “I’m sure you will, Abigail,” she said softly. “I’m sure you’ll run everything exactly as Lorraine would have wanted it.” Through eyes that were nearly closed, she saw the old woman watching her, and felt for a moment like a mouse being examined by a coiled cobra. But then, her appetite apparently satisfied for the moment, Abigail turned, and stiffly left the room. Only when Carolyn was sure that Abigail was out of earshot did she speak again.
“I’m sorry, Phillip. I shouldn’t have mentioned Lorraine.”
Her husband’s forehead wrinkled into a sympathetic frown. “She’s the one who brought Lorraine up, not you. Now, just get some rest, and don’t worry about anything. Promise?”
“I promise. And you have to promise not to start mother-henning me. Hannah’s perfectly capable of doing that.”
As if to prove the point, the old housekeeper elbowed the door open, then came into the room, a pot of tea balanced on a bed tray. “See?” Carolyn asked, then hitched herself back into a sitting position as Hannah set the tray over her legs. “Thank you, Hannah. But please don’t start treating me as if I’m sick.”
“Who says you’re sick?” Hannah retorted. “Being pregnant and being sick are two different things—despite what some people think. But a nice pot of tea never hurt anybody.” She poured two cups, and handed one to Phillip. “And as for Miss Tracy’s party, I don’t want you to worry about anything. I can take care of it all. Although I must say,” she added, making no attempt to keep the grumpiness out of her voice, “changing it from Sunday to Saturday isn’t going to make my life any easier.”
“Changing it?” Carolyn asked. “Hannah, what on earth are you talking about?”
Hannah peered at Carolyn for a moment; then her eyes narrowed slightly. “You mean Mrs. Sturgess didn’t talk to you about it?”
“She hasn’t talked to me about anything,” Carolyn replied.
“But Miss Tracy said—” Hannah began, then abruptly fell silent, her lips closing tightly.
“Said what, Hannah?” Phillip urged. “It’s all right. What did Tracy say?”
“I don’t like to talk out of turn,” Hannah mumbled. She busied herself refolding the already perfectly folded bedspread.
Phillip opened his mouth to speak again, but Carolyn held up a restraining hand. “Hannah, telling us about a change in Tracy’s birthday plans is hardly speaking out of turn. Now, what is this about changing the party from Sunday to Saturday?”
Hannah hesitated, then repeated what Tracy had said in the kitchen that morning. “She told me that Mrs. Sturgess was going to talk to you,” she finished. “It just must have been forgotten in all the excitement. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’d better get back to my kitchen.”
She bustled out of the room. Neither Carolyn nor Phillip said a word for a moment. Finally Phillip spoke.
“Did Mother talk to you about switching the party?”
“No,” Carolyn replied. “She didn’t.”
“Well, I’m sure there was a reason for the change—” Phillip began, but fell silent as Carolyn pushed the tray to the foot of the bed and threw back the covers.
“There was a reason,” she agreed, swinging her feet off the bed and getting shakily to her feet. “And I intend to put a stop to it right now.”
Phillip set his teacup on the bed table, and rose to steady his wife. “Hey, take it easy. Whatever it is can wait. Let me deal with it.”
“But it can’t wait,” Carolyn insisted. “And I have to deal with it myself.” She began struggling into her robe, then met her husband’s eyes. “Don’t you see? There’s a very simple reason why they changed the party, and why Abigail didn’t tell me. Oh, I’m sure she would have—on