With a grateful glance at Lily, Claire scurried over to the service cart parked next to the upright piano. As she filled a blue-and-white colonial teacup, a match to the one on the end table beside Sylvia, Lily noticed the framed photos on the fireplace mantel. From a distance, she could best make out the details of a portrait in the center. Indeed it was Ruby, cleaned and cared for just as Ellis had described.
“That’s my daughter,” Sylvia pointed out. “She’s lovely, isn’t she?” The prideful glow in her face caused Lily’s throat to tighten, adding a rasp to her reply.
“She is.”
“Technically she’s ten, but going on twenty according to her teacher. Always so much going on in that head of hers.”
Lily was thankful for Claire’s delivery of the tea just then.
“Oh, Claire, that reminds me,” Sylvia said. “Please tell my sweet girl she needs to practice the piano once more before supper if she wants tapioca tonight. And don’t you dare let her say she’ll simply go without.” Sylvia rolled her eyes in jest and told Lily, “It’s her favorite dessert, so there’s no getting that one past me.”
Claire politely bowed her head and pivoted to leave. Her footfalls continued through the foyer and up the stairs.
“To be perfectly honest,” Sylvia said conspiratorially, “as a young girl, I was terrible about practicing. Now wish I’d been more diligent.” She brought her cup and saucer to her lap. “Come to think of it, that might not have helped. I was truly awful. Sadly, I never had the natural ability that my daughter does.”
An image of Ruby, seated at the piano, materialized in Lily’s mind. The lessons, and certainly the piano itself, weren’t luxuries Geraldine could afford anytime soon.
Sylvia took a sip of her tea. “I’d gladly ask her to come down and play for you, but this is her special reading time. Once her nose is in a book, I’d have to pry it out. I hope you don’t mind.”
Lily shook her head, attempting to shed thoughts of Ruby’s happiness here, wanting even more to discard the undeniable sense of liking Sylvia.
Assuming her husband was similar, no wonder Ellis felt conflicted.
“I’m much the same,” Lily managed. “When it comes to reading.”
“Yes, well, there are worse vices a person could have.” Sylvia smiled and took another sip. “Do you have children as well?”
Lily had to think before answering. Everything about their exchange had left her feeling unprepared. “One. A son.”
“Oh, that’s lovely.” With a look of wonder, Sylvia rested her cup on her saucer. “Of course, I know boys can be a handful at times, with all that energy bound up in their little bodies. But what father doesn’t secretly want a small version of himself running about? I’m sure your husband is as proud as a peacock.”
Lily smiled before drowning the truth with Earl Grey. It could have used cream and a sugar cube, but she gulped it down.
“Now,” Sylvia said, “what else could I tell you about our family? I imagine there are some specifics you need for the article.”
Lily’s grip tightened around her drink. Whatever Claire had passed along about Lily’s employment or her ties to Ellis, her purpose had been misconstrued.
The sound of footsteps down the stairs preceded Claire’s return to the foyer, but there was no reason to call her in here to sort out the correction.
Lily set her cup and saucer aside. The plan to come right out with the issue had been far easier in her head. “I’m actually here today to speak about Geraldine Dillard,” she began.
A small crinkle formed upon Sylvia’s nose. “I’m sorry… I’m not familiar with her.” There was nothing insincere in the woman’s manner, nor was there any hint of uncertainty.
Was it possible she had never learned of the name? Had her husband not bothered to ask for such a significant detail?
Lily didn’t want to insult Sylvia by duplicating her maternal title, but there was no other way to say it. “Mrs. Millstone, Geraldine is the mother of the two children you’re caring for.”
Sylvia smiled once again, this time with a tinge of sympathy. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. We have only one daughter. She’s the one I was telling you about.”
A seed of impatience was sprouting within Lily, hastened by confusion. “Yes, I understand there’s just one girl. But I’m referring to her brother, Calvin. He’s the boy, along with Ruby, that your husband purchased in Pennsylvania.”
Adopted. Lily realized she had bypassed the more mindful term when a shroud