“Why should she? She is the lady of the house, and it seems as if it was an honest mistake.”
Not ready to give up her indignation, she blurted, “Veronica made up the story.”
Mrs. Abrams turned on her heel. “Listen to me, girl,” she said, impatience lacing her tone. “Over time, you will find that there might be a great many things the family does that you might not agree with. That is the drawback of being in service. You learn far too many secrets about a family. But our place is certainly not to judge.”
Though she knew she was letting her temper get away from her, Rosalind couldn’t hold back the onslaught of words. “But if Nanci hadn’t found the comb, I would have been fired without a reference.”
“That is true.”
Rosalind stopped. “But what would have become of me then? I wouldn’t be able to get another job. I would have been forced to live on the streets.”
“That is why you must always make very sure that your conduct and demeanor are beyond reproach.” A thread of impatience tinged Mrs. Abrams’ voice then, as if she had seen something very important and she was frustrated by Rosalind’s inability to see it. “Rosalind, it is time you understood that you must be on guard at all times. Stop running late. Stop taking so many risks. Stop talking to Mr. Armstrong. Become worthy of the job you hold.” She paused, then wagged a finger. “And most of all, remember that there is no one in this house you can trust.”
That sounded overly dramatic. Gathering her gumption, Rosalind raised a brow. “You mean to say I can’t even trust Mrs. Sloane herself?”
“No one,” she whispered before turning away, leaving Rosalind with even more questions and feeling as if she’d already lost something valuable that she’d never get back—her reputation.
Hours later, when she was brushing out her hair, Rosalind turned to her roommate. “Nanci, I truly am so grateful that you found that comb. Thank you so much.”
“I certainly didn’t do it for you. Miss Veronica needed the second comb for her hair.”
Rosalind smiled, sure her friend was joking.
But if anything, Nanci only looked more sullen. “Rosalind, since you’ve been here, you’ve done nothing but start trouble. You’re not a good fit, and I’m not the only person here who thinks so. The truth is, I wouldn’t have been sorry if you’d been asked to leave.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say.”
“It may be hard to hear, but it’s the truth.”
Rosalind searched her friend’s face. “Nanci, won’t you ever tell me what happened with Douglass?”
The skin around Nanci’s lips tightened. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Come now. We both know that something happened on Wooded Island. If you’d like to talk about—” Nanci cut her off with a scowl. “Rosalind, I might have once tried to be your friend, but we are not friends now. You’ve brought a lot of havoc into my life. I’ll be civil to you, but let me be clear. I no longer want to converse. You should know that I’ve talked to Mrs. Abrams and asked to share a room with someone else as soon as possible.”
Too hurt to reply, Rosalind turned away and climbed into bed. Minutes later, Nanci extinguished their light, blanketing their room in darkness. For a brief selfish moment, Rosalind ached to give in to self-pity and let the tears form. Everything was going so poorly and her parents and brothers had put their faith in her.
Now, more than ever, she was completely alone.
Dear Lord, she prayed. I don’t know what to pray for that you don’t already know about. You know I have tried everything I can think of to discover Miranda’s whereabouts. But every road seems to bring me to a dead end. Now I am at my wit’s end. I’ve alienated everyone, and it’s obvious I’m completely alone. I simply don’t know what to do any longer.
She was just about to close her eyes when she realized something very important. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t alone, and she never had been.
No matter what happened with her mission, no matter what happened with her position at Sloane House or with Nanci, with her search, or even with her beginning friendship with Reid, there was One who was always there.
Just as he was for Miranda.
Little by little, the tension in her shoulders eased and a smooth sense of peace covered her. Grateful, she felt tears sting her eyes as she drifted off to sleep.
Unaware when Nanci got up and walked out of the room.
CHAPTER 20
For the last few weeks, instead of sending the majority of her money home to her parents, Rosalind had kept half. She felt bad about that. She knew her siblings needed new shoes and clothes and her parents had lots of bills to pay.