Her heart tightened within her chest. Who in the world had she become these last few years, that she never looked past her own nose?
Cora emptied her countenance of the pain pinching it and held out a hand. Marietta put hers into it and stepped over her skirts into the center of the hoop. “Is your back paining you, Cora? My sister-in-law complained of terrible back pain when she was expecting.”
Cora withdrew her fingers so fast, Marietta wobbled. “Nothin’ to worry about, ma’am. Just a twinge is all.”
Twinge? Images flashed through her mind’s eye. “You are always hobbling by nightfall. Would it help to stretch out midday? Laura said it eased her discomfort.”
Cora moved behind her and pulled up the mass of skirts, tying the hoop tight around her waist. “Can’t, ma’am. You’s shorthanded, and there be cleanin’ to do.”
“Your health is more important than the furniture getting dusted every day.” The words felt right on her lips, in her heart. And yet foreign. Which made her stomach churn.
The first, thin petticoat fell into place, and Cora went to work positioning the bum roll. “Miss Lucy’s mighty particular, ma’am.”
“I can handle Mother Hughes. Consider this an order, Cora. I want you to rest after your midday meal for an hour.”
The only indication the girl heard her was a momentary pause. Then she fastened the heavier petticoats over the roll.
Marietta pressed a hand to her fluttering middle before slipping her arms through her sleeves. Why was it so unsettling to be having an actual conversation with her servant? As a child, those who worked for them had been family. Walker and her brothers had been inseparable, their mothers best friends.
Yet she didn’t even know if Cora loved Walker. Hadn’t seen their daughter since she was a babe. They kept her in the carriage house all the time, a place Marietta had always avoided. “How is…” the name sprang to mind, yet had she ever even said it? “Elsie?”
The tug upon her waist felt angry. “Good.” She might as well have screamed, Why are you asking?
Marietta squeezed her eyes shut. “Have you and Walker made any decisions about what you will do after the amendment passes? I know your mother will stay, but…”
But she couldn’t, suddenly, imagine Cora remaining here. Not now that she enumerated the many times resentment had sparked in her eyes.
“Don’t know. But don’t you worry, I’m sure you’ll find other black folks to clean your house and muck out your stalls if we leave.”
She deserved that. Still, it stung. “Well. If you need references, do let me know.” Paltry, but she could hardly undo four years of ignoring the girl in one conversation.
Her bodice felt smooth against her chest, telling her the last of the buttons had been fastened. Cora stepped away. “I’ll go tell Tandy to ready your breakfast.”
“Not yet. I need to do some sorting first. I shall be in Lucien’s study if anyone needs me.”
Cora froze, discarded dressing gown dangling from her fingers. “His study?”
Marietta moved to the mirror and the combs and snoods strewn over her vanity top. “Is there a problem?”
“Mr. Dev said ain’t no one to go in there, even to clean.”
“He didn’t mean me, I daresay.” Her first instinct had been to slip in unnoticed, but why? She picked up a comb and turned back to the girl. “And what business is it of his if I do?”
Cora pressed her lips together and straightened the rest of the way. “I sure ain’t gonna tell him.”
“Well, then.” She rolled her hair back, secured it with the combs and lace, and then headed downstairs.
Cigar smoke clung to the study. From Lucien, or had Dev been enjoying his brother’s collection of Cubans? A thick layer of dust covered the shelves, motes danced in the air.
Her eyes slid shut, but she still saw the room. Only now Lucien sat behind the solid mahogany desk, sunlight catching on his burnished blond hair and twining around the tendrils of smoke from his cigar. How many times had she come in here and found him in almost exactly the same position?
Three hundred twenty-two.
And each time he had looked up and shot her the grin that had made her determine to marry him. The one that said she was all he wanted, all he needed.
How she had wanted that to be true, at first. And then feared it when she realized her heart was not so steady. Not so faithful.
But then, had his been either? He had a mistress, as did Dev—their beloved KGC.
She opened her eyes again and moved into the chamber, letting her fingers trail through the dust on a shelf. His desk, at least, looked clean. Dev wouldn’t want to soil his clothing.