“Did you fall into the hearth?” Miss Collins asked, her voice rising in worry.
“Not at all. I started the coal fire myself and couldn’t see where I knelt.”
“But that is the servants’ duty,” Miss Collins said in bewilderment.
“And I can do it almost as well. I enjoyed the challenge.”
“And the dirt?” her sister continued.
“I don’t always have to be a burden,” Audrey said, brushing past Robert and heading toward her sister. “Excuse me while I change.”
“I never said you were a burden,” Miss Collins called.
To her credit, she sounded forlorn. Perhaps there really was hope for Audrey and her sister to become closer.
Miss Collins came back inside and went to the window, looking out as if she could find the answers to all her problems in the misty rain. Or else not wanting to face him.
“Lord Knightsbridge, did you get wet on your ride over?” she finally asked.
“My cloak kept the worst from me. And I’m used to dealing with the weather.”
“Ah, I had almost forgotten. Was there even snow in India?”
“Worse snow than England usually sees, at least in the mountains of Afghanistan.”
The silence lengthened again.
“What do you think of this situation with the staff?” Robert asked in a low voice.
Miss Collins glanced at him over her shoulder. “You mean their furtive behavior? It’s almost as if they meant to hide the baby from us. Considering they don’t know of Audrey’s grief after her own died, it doesn’t make sense.”
He must have gaped at her, for her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth.
“She never told you,” Miss Collins whispered. “Oh, heavens, what have I done but reveal secrets that weren’t mine to reveal?”
“She lost a baby?” It was as if the earth moved under his feet, changing everything he ever thought he could do for her. “Tell me.”
“But I shouldn’t?—”
“You already did, and unless you want me to tell her exactly where I found out, you will finish explaining this to me.” He walked toward her, each syllable emphasized with his footfalls.
Miss Collins squeezed her eyes shut. “It must have been too painful for her to speak of. She grieved far worse for the baby than she ever did for her husband.”
“She was with child when he left.”
She nodded, her head bobbing even as the first tear spilled down her cheek.
“Tell me everything,” he ordered, in the voice he used when he expected to be obeyed.
Miss Collins swallowed. “She found out just after Mr. Blake left. After word of his death, she went into labor early and the babe was born dead. A little boy …” She trailed off for a moment, then seemed to rally as she looked him in the eye. “My father was relieved. His attitude … it sickened me. I admit I was uncertain about Audrey’s ability to raise a child, and there are always those who believe a blind woman could also give birth to a blind baby,but … her grief was terrible to witness, and for some time, I worried over the state of her health and mind.”
Robert found himself sitting down heavily in a chair, his hands moving through his hair to clasp his bent neck as he stared at the floor. Miss Collins’s words pounded into him as if they were blows landed from a boxer.
“I think this house saved her, in some sense. She began to concentrate on Rose Cottage, and her future independence, and even when Father refused to permit her departure, she never gave up.”
She paused a long moment, as if waiting for him to speak, but he had no words.
“She must not have wanted your pity,” Miss Collins continued in a low voice.
