I broke off as, without a word, Katie swung round to the base of the stairs and proceeded to stomp her way up. My gaze flicked to Jamie, hovering uncertainly beside the telephone alcove. He crumpled his cap between his hands.
“What happened?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I’m not quite sure . . . I . . .” He looked away. “I fear I might have become just a wee bit too familiar, miss. I tried sayin’ I was sorry, but ’twas too late, the damage was done.”
By this time Katie had disappeared at the top of the staircase, and presently I heard the thwacks of her shoes against the wooden steps leading to her attic bedroom. Jamie heard it, too; his gaze drifted to the stairs, then back to me.
“I’m sorry, miss.” He looked crestfallen, almost devastated. “We were gettin’ along swimmingly . . . I thought.”
My first impulse was to berate him for pushing his advantage with Katie. But then I thought of Derrick, and of Jesse, how both men had made their feelings clear to me and how overwhelmed they made me feel. Yet . . . neither had taken advantage of me. They had simply been honest about their intentions.
And then I thought of Katie and all she’d been through the previous spring. If two men could overwhelm me, only think what even the most innocent kiss or caress might do to her, and the frightening, unwelcome memories that would come flooding back.
I drew in a breath. “Jamie, if you want my advice when it comes to Katie, if you are truly interested in her—”
“That I am, miss.”
“Then proceed very, very slowly and allow her to let you know when she is ready to be more than . . . friends.”
He stared intently at me, seeming to hang on every word. “I will, miss. If she’ll see me again, that is. I believe she misunderstood my meaning about a certain matter.”
I took “a certain matter” to be a polite euphemism for physical intimacy and smiled gently. “Well, you’ll simply have to show her your honorable intentions. If nothing else, you’ll see each other in town. Or perhaps at the next soirée at Forty Steps?”
“I do hope so, miss.” He swung his cap back and forth a couple of times across his leg. “Well, I should be going now.” He came toward me and I stepped aside to open the door for him.
“Come to think of it,” I said, “how did you get here? Do you live close by?”
“An acquaintance does, miss. I hitched a ride with him. He’s sure to give me a ride back to town.”
“Oh, all right, then. Good night, Jamie. And don’t worry too much. Katie will come around.”
The next morning, I found Katie in the laundry yard, hanging up sheets and towels. The day was warm, but the ocean breezes brought an edge that hinted of the coming autumn. I pulled my shawl a little higher around my shoulders and sat on the wooden bench where Katie had set her basket, piled high with damp heaps of linen.
“Would you like to talk about last night?”
She shooed a fly away from her face and reached into the box beside the laundry basket for another clothespin. “Not particularly, miss.”
“Jamie seemed terribly sorry for . . . whatever it was that happened.”
“Men always are.” She snapped a sheet over the clothesline and proceeded to secure it against the wind.
“Don’t you believe he might be sincere?” When she shrugged, I studied her face, a task made difficult by her obvious attempt to shield herself behind a fluttering pillowcase. A shadow of doubt crept into my heart. “Was he being honest with me, or did something more serious happen than he let on?”
“Depends on what he said, miss.” She had no choice now but to approach me. She reached into the basket for the next damp item to be hung, and I wrapped my fingers around her wrist.
“Sit.”
She darted her gaze about as if seeking rescue. Finding none, she sighed and sat stiffly beside me.
“Now, what happened between the two of you?”
A flash of teeth caught at her bottom lip. She studied her hands in her lap. “Begging your pardon, miss, but it’s a private matter and I’d like it to stay that way.”
“Oh.” That certainly put me in my place as a busybody and an overly intrusive employer. That fly returned to bother first Katie and then me, buzzing around my hair. The breeze kicked up, threatening to tug the aforementioned pillowcase from the line. Katie grabbed two clothespins and jumped up.
“Well, at least tell me this,” I said to her back. “Are you all right?”
She finished securing the clothespins and returned to gather another sheet from the basket. Her arms full, she paused, looking down at me. “I am, miss, and thank you. I appreciate your lookin’ after me and all. I assure you last night was nothin’ like what happened to me . . . well . . . you know. It was nothin’ I couldn’t handle. Mr. Reilly just made me feel . . . uncomfortable, I guess you could say.”