“Come in,” he said, and pulled out a chair next to the one he usually occupied. “Sit here.”
She did, and he pushed her chair in, then signaled to Gables to bring her a teacup.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
She nodded, staring at her cup and sniffing. “Is this chocolate?” she asked.
Her papa smiled. She liked when he smiled. “Yes. Have you drunk it before?”
She lifted the cup and took a cautious sip. But it wasn’t too hot, and she sipped again. “Yes,” she answered, finally. “Mama drank chocolate every morning.”
He nodded. “Yes. I remember that. She always said it was her one indulgence.”
Frances nodded. Mamahadsaid that. “What isindulgence?” she asked. “I forgot.”
“It’s an extravagance.”
Frances frowned, and her papa laughed.
“It’s a special thing.”
She sipped her chocolate again. Then the door opened, and Gables brought in a tray.
“Let me fetch you something to eat.” Papa rose and went to the sideboard. Frances craned her neck to see what he was preparing. Did he eat porridge every morning, like her? Hopefully, he knew to put a bit of honey in it. Miss Genevieve always put a swirl of honey on top for her.
But when he returned, he had a plate with a stack of round, flat pieces of bread.
“Mrs. Donnelly has made us an American delicacy,” he told her. “These are flapjacks.”
Frances looked at her plate and then at Papa. She had never heard of flapjacks, but they smelled delicious.
“I’m told the Americans eat them with butter and maple syrup. I’ve taken the liberty of adding both.” He set a plate on the table before his chair. “Shall we try them together?”
“Yes, please,” Frances said. She watched as her father took his knife and cut a piece of the flapjack. She did the same then speared it with her fork. Still following Papa’s lead, she brought the food to her mouth. The sweet taste was even better than the first taste of honey on her porridge. She looked at Papa, who was looking at her. She nodded her approval and ate more.
They both ate in silence for a few minutes, then Papa told her about his trip to London, and how he’d wanted to return sooner, but one of the horses had not been able to run. “But now I amback for good,” he said, “and I wanted to tell you the special reason I went to Town.”
Frances set down her fork, excitement making her dance in her seat. “Papa, I know why you went to London.”
His brows went up. “You do?”
She was almost bouncing now. This must be the surprise. “To see Mama, of course!” she said. “Did she come back with you? Is that my surprise?”
The smile left his face, and he looked quite sad suddenly. Frances felt as though someone had opened a door during a snowstorm and the cold air blew right through her. An image of a woman with blonde hair, lying in muddy water, her blue eyes fixed and staring, bubbled up in Frances’s mind. She pushed it away and looked at Papa again. Why wasn’t he smiling anymore?
“Gables,” he said, turning to the butler. “Will you bring Miss Lumlee’s coat, please?”
She inhaled sharply. “Are you sending me away?” She’d forgotten he did not like to speak of Mama. She shouldn’t have mentioned her. What had she been thinking? Mama was not in London. She’d run away to her secret kingdom.
“I’m not sending you away,” he said, rising and holding out a hand. “I’ll never send you away.”
She took his hand and tried to read his expression. Was he still angry? No, but he still looked sad.
“This is your home now,” he said. “And I want to show you something.”
She wished she could eat just a few more bites of the flapjacks. She wasn’t hungry any longer, and her tummy would probably hurt if she ate more, but they were so good. Instead, she took her father’s hand and allowed him to help her put on her coat. Then they went outside and began walking away from the house.
“Can we have flapjacks again sometime?” she asked. “What is that flower called? I forgot my hat!”
