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Mrs. Ainsworth followed her out. “I shall make certain she is gone quickly,” she said quietly as she slunk out of the room.

Isabel’s chest heaved with the force of her breaths. She wiped at her face and pulled her hair back.

Millicent sat on the floor, cradled by her nursemaid, her cries quieting to soft sniffs. Isabel approached her, but as Millie saw her, she cried out, burrowing her face into the crook of her nursemaid’s neck.

Isabel swallowed. She deserved Millie’s anger. It was all her fault. Tears slid down her cheeks again, and her lips trembled as she tried to speak. “Edith, please do not leave her side until she falls asleep.”

“I wouldn’t, my lady.”

Isabel nodded and left the room. She needed to pen a letter to her husband. It was time for him to hurry home.

Chapter 23

I do not know what hurts more, the fact that somebody harmed Millicent or that I am to blame for the incident.

I am the one who brought the monster into our house, and I am the one who overlooked Millicent’s protestations and brushed off her words as that of a spoilt child.

How can I live in this world knowing that this might happen again and that I won’t be able to protect her?

How did you do it, Mother? For when you were here, I was never hurt in my life. And now that you’re gone, one blow comes after another, and I do not know what to do.

What do I do, Mother?

How do I ensure that Millicent is protected? How do I ensure that I am enough? Because I fear that I am not.

I only pray that one day I become one iota of the woman that you were, and until then, I will strive to follow in your footsteps.

It is difficult to explain in words how I miss you, dear Mother. I wish you were here.

Isabel shot up, awakened by loud screaming. What is going on? Where am I?

Right, she had spent the night in the chair by Millie’s bed.

Isabel had been upset about the incident with the governess the entire day and more upset that Millicent refused to see her and sought comfort in the arms of her nursemaid.

She wasn’t her mother, Isabel had reasoned. Millicent had known Edith for a lot longer.

It hadn’t worked. The pit in her stomach did not close, and she still felt just as anxious as before.

But she could not have possibly slept soundly in her bed. So she slunk inside Millicent’s nursery and settled beside the bed, resolved to guard Millicent’s dreams.

Isabel could not replace Millicent’s mother or father. But the least she could do was be there when the girl needed her.

“Papa!”

That was the sound that woke Isabel.

She turned to see Millie sitting in bed, clutching her bedsheets, her eyes frightened.

“Papa!” she called again.

Isabel rushed toward her and sat on the bed. “Millicent, dear, what’s wrong?”

Millicent’s lips quivered before she climbed onto Isabel’s lap.

Isabel let out a deep breath and tightened her arms around the girl.

“I had a bad dream,” Millie whispered.