and freedom men take for granted, but that is not how our society operates. If there were a guarantee that only good men were in positions of power, it might be different. But any kind of man can run this country and their homes, while women are considered barely human. Men pat us on the head and compliment our stitching while denying us education and occupation that would free us to make decisions toward our own best interest.
“I managed to find a break in the wall meant to keep me in. I was widowed without an heir for my husband and nothing he owned was entailed upon a male relative. The fact that he died before he found a way to keep me under someone else’s power gave me a freedom very few women will ever know. I will never give up my power again. The very potential of the risk that would be is unacceptable to me. So, yes, I am lonely sometimes, but, no, that loneliness will not drive me to give up my rights to myself ever again.”
She’d said too much. She could feel it in the air between them as he held her eyes and absorbed her words. She braced herself for a rebuttal—either something easy and light or insightful and pointed; he’d shown himself equally capable of both.
After enough time for Sabrina to feel foolish and vulnerable for having said so much, Mr. Stillman smiled at her, and then moved his bishop without looking away from her.
“Checkmate.”
Sabrina arose the next morning feeling foolish about her rant that had allowed Mr. Stillman to win the game. Again. She wasn’t sure how to talk to him now—she’d left rather abruptly last night—so she tried to distract herself with work. She went over the household accounts in detail, planning out the months she would be gone week by week.
Joshua, Maria, and Constance had all made arrangements for temporary work at other homes in Wimbledon, though she would continue to pay a percentage of their wage to ensure they returned to her when she was back from Naples. Therese would manage the house on her own, with Steven maintaining the grounds and stables.
The planning moved naturally into Sabrina making detailed lists of what she needed to do before she left, what she would pack, exact times she would be leaving one place for another, and even setting out most of the dresses she would be packing to make sure the trunks she’d chosen were the right size. Poor Joshua ran up and down the stairs to the attic storage half a dozen times helping her find the right luggage. She decided on the yellow trunk; it was the right size and would be easy to identify amid the other passengers’ luggage. Eventually she ran out of lists and packing, though she would not leave for Brighton for another fortnight.
She took a walk and tended to her roses, which did not need her tending. Later, when she lay down to take a nap, she only stared at the ceiling and wondered what Mr. Stillman was doing and how it would be perceived if she looked in on him during the afternoon. It would be two days in a row she’d visited before dinner. Would it give the wrong impression?
Had she given the wrong impression already?
What did he think of her?
Did he think of her at all?
If he had other companions to choose from, would he still want to play chess with her?
Even after her rant and quick departure last night?
Did she owe him an apology?
It was nearly five o’clock before she gave in, deciding it was late enough in the day that she could claim having finished her work in time to look in on him. Therese was adding new levels of movement for his routine every day, including the use of a Bath chair so he could maneuver around the room. In a few more days, Joshua planned to take Mr. Stillman outside in the chair so he could get some fresh air and practice with the crutches Steven was making for him. Sabrina could reasonably ask Mr. Stillman how the activities of the day had gone and how his leg was faring.
At the door she knocked twice before pushing open the door in time to see Mr. Stillman quickly stuff something under the bedclothes.
The taskmaster within her instantly wielded a willow strap.
“What are you hiding?” she demanded, taking authoritative strides across the room. If he had talked one