“That would be very kind,” Nell said. “We’re sorry to bombard you like this, only we didn’t have anywhere else to go. Lady Gwendoline didn’t want to disturb you, but I thought it would be all right.”

With a hefty sigh, Audrey pulled up a chair beside them and prepared herself for a long story. “Well, let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”

She was right. By the time they had come to the end of their story, seven cups of progressively weaker tea, three of the scones (meant for the Middleton café), and one small glass of sherry had been consumed.

“So what happened after Nell entered the bedroom?” Audrey asked her sister.

“He started harrumphing around, because he knew that he couldn’t do anything—save killing us both, but he’d never get away with that. The butler would have known it was him, if it wasn’t patently obvious already.” Lady Gwendoline was feeling a little more herself after the sherry. “Then he shouted at us to get out, telling me that he was going to divorce me, strip me of my wealth and title, and I’d be labeled an adulteress for the rest of my days.”

“What did you say back to him?”

“Well, I told him that one kiss—regardless how delightful—did not make me an adulteress, and that if he wanted the world to know that his wife needed to look elsewhere, then he should go ahead.”

“Then he stopped raging,” Nell said. “He just seemed to collapse after that, saying that the world didn’t need to know about his private life.”

    Audrey slapped them both on the back. “Bravo, Nell! What an incredibly brave thing to do! And, Gwendoline, nice to see you going out with your head held high.”

“And that’s precisely what I did. I grabbed a few clothes, looked at Nell and said, ‘Come on! I think it’s time to leave.’?”

Nell leaned forward. “We ran down the back stairs to the kitchen, then I quickly packed some things, and here we are.”

Audrey looked from one to the other, the realization dawning. “Do you mean to stay? Here?”

Gwendoline suddenly looked sheepish. “I know that you don’t have to take me in, especially after all that’s happened between us, but please take Nell. The only reason she’s homeless is because she rescued me. Just let us stay one night, and then we can see what to do tomorrow.”

That crushing sensation came down upon Audrey, that feeling that she couldn’t cope. She scraped her fingers through her hair, pulling it as she reached the ends. “Why can’t anyone understand?” she wailed, trying not to wake the boys asleep upstairs—that was the last thing she needed. “I can barely look after myself and the boys, let alone take more people in. I already have the pregnant evacuee, and she’s due to have the baby soon.”

No one knew that the pregnant evacuee was Zelda. Audrey had decided that, in light of them being in the same contest, it was better kept a secret. Since it had been organized by the Middleton billeting officer, Lady Gwendoline never knew the pregnant evacuee’s name, which meant that no one need know.

Also, Zelda was worried that if anyone found out that she was pregnant she would be thrown out of the cooking contest. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Audrey had grown used to having Zelda there, and her rent and fuel money were useful.

“It won’t be for long,” Nell pleaded. “We could stay in the one of the outbuildings.”

“You don’t understand, I simply can’t have anyone else here—in the outbuildings or not. I’m just too busy, there’s no food on the table, and not enough money coming in.” She slammed her hands down on the table. “My husband has died. He’s dead, you know. He’s not coming home. Not now, not ever.”

    Silence hung in the air for a few moments, dust settling back down, the measure of midnight and the sheer magnitude of their situations bearing down on them all.

“I’m sorry, Aude,” Gwendoline whispered. “I didn’t think—”

“You never think.”

Silence again.

Then slowly, softly, Gwendoline said in a low voice, “I have an idea.”

They looked at her.

“What is it?” Audrey said, in a way that indicated that no idea could ever be good enough.

“We can help you, Audrey. I may not seem to be awfully good at a lot of things, but organizing has always been something of a talent. Even though living with Sir Strickland hasn’t been easy, I have learned one or two things about business and bureaucracy. I could help you with your pie business, if you give me a chance. It would make up for us landing on you like this.”

Nell continued for her. “And I can bake for your business.”

“We can step in so that you have time to heal, time to grieve. That is what you need to do. Until you do, you’ll never find any sense of peace. We will be Audrey for you, Audrey.”

Audrey’s eyes glazed over as she looked at her sister. “You—you two—will be me?” Then she let out a sad, short laugh. “You can’t do it! You have no idea how much I have to do, how much cooking, my techniques for making the rations go further, how to make the pies so delicious that my customers have to keep paying me, how to help the hens lay, how to talk to the bees.” She began counting things off on her hand, waving it almost hysterically. “And the boys—they need me, I’m their mother. You can’t take the place of that.”

“You’ll still be here. The boys will still see you, still talk to you, but I can keep them organized, clean, and fed, make sure they go to bed at a good time.” Gwendoline shrugged. “I know you think I’d be dismal at looking after children, but I’ll do the best I can—and Nell can help, too.”

    “You can tell me how you want me to cook,” Nell added softly. “Mrs. Quince always says that I’m quick to pick things up.”

Audrey sighed. “Stay for tonight. We can talk about the rest in the morning. I think we could all do with a good night’s sleep.” She looked at her sister, whose hand was soothing her reddened throat, her face flinching with the pain and memory of it.

In all her rancor, Audrey had forgotten what her sister had been through.

She leaned forward. “We should put some cream on your neck. It looks sore.”

“No, no.” Gwendoline pulled her hand away quickly. “It’s nothing.”

Yet Audrey could see the fear in her sister’s eyes. She couldn’t help wondering what being married to Sir Strickland had been like all these years, whether he had done anything like that before. But she knew these were questions for another day. She suddenly felt a strange relief that she’d had Matthew—for as long as she had.

“Let’s find some beds for you,” she said, helping Gwendoline to her feet.

And together, the three women went upstairs.

Gwendoline

Back in the house of her childhood, Gwendoline felt the warmth of familiarity as she followed Audrey upstairs. The place was tatty and unkempt, far from the pristine finish of Fenley Hall, yet it was cozy, friendly—safe.

Audrey found some old blankets in a cupboard and took them into a spare room with an old, wrought-iron double bed in the middle. A vague smell of damp permeated around them.

“I’m afraid this is the best of the empty rooms, Nell. At least the roof is fixed.”

“I’ll be fine in here.” Nell quickly took the blankets from Audrey. “I don’t know how to thank you, Audrey.”

She waved away the thanks, backing out with a conclusive, “Goodnight, then. Sleep well.”

After closing the door, she turned to Gwendoline. “For tonight, you can sleep in the double bed with me. The other room is in terrible condition, as I remember explaining to you when you foisted a pregnant evacuee on me.” There was an edge of bitterness to her voice. “At least I’m not so heartless as to force you to sleep in there.”

Gwendoline didn’t reply. She could hardly bear to think about how horrid she had been. How shortsighted and arrogant it was to think that she might never need the help of her only sister.

    The master bedroom was at the front of the house. The old-fashioned gold drapes were already drawn, and a battered, beige rug coated the vast space between the end of the double bed and the window. The dark mahogany wardrobe and dresser wore the fatigue of antiques, and the shade of the floor lamp trailed a disintegrating fringe. The bed was unmade, the cover hastily pulled up where Audrey had left the bed that morning.

“Thank you, Aude,” Gwendoline said softly, quietly taking off her shoes, wriggling her skirt off, sliding into the bed in her slip, pulling up the disheveled covers.

Audrey spent longer getting ready for bed, vanishing out for a while to the bathroom, returning to the room and carefully undressing. Then she came over to Gwendoline and whispered, “Could you sleep on the other side?”