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“It was Maura,” I whisper.
Marianne has sprinkled flour over the crust and fit it into the pie tin, then poured a mixture of apples, cinnamon, and sugar into the shell. Now she sprinkles a crumb topping over it. It’s only after she slides the pie into the oven that she turns to me, and I realize her careful movements belie a mother’s fury. “Why?”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever really understand that. She claims it was to protect us, because we can’t trust any Brothers. Any men. She refused to come today because she didn’t want us to tell Father the truth. But, honestly, I think she attacked Finn to punish me. Our relationship has always been . . . complicated. Some days it feels like there are a hundred petty rivalries between us. But this—I don’t think I can ever forgive this. ” I look into her eyes, begging for understanding. “I want to make things right with him, Marianne. ”
Marianne runs a hand over her face, leaving a smudge of flour on her cheek. “Then you have to tell him everything. ” She purses her lips. “You know he won’t turn her in. He would have every right to want her punished, but angry as he is, he wouldn’t want her killed for it. ”
“I want to tell him, but it still feels like a betrayal. It’s the stupidest thing. ” I let out a mirthless little laugh. “She betrayed me without a second thought. Making him forget me was the worst thing she could have done to me. And yet I still have the most ridiculous urge to protect her. ” Unthinking, I run the tip of my thumb over the sharp edge of the paring knife. It stings.
“That promise to your mother still weighs on you, doesn’t it?” Marianne’s eyes have softened. “Anna would want you to be happy, too, you know. ”
Her kindness brings tears to my eyes. I’m like a leaky faucet lately. “I hope so. I—I worry that I’m disappointing her, all the time. I’ve tried so hard, but Maura—she’s become—I don’t even recognize her anymore. And I can’t help wondering if it’s something I did, or didn’t do. I know I couldn’t replace Mother, but—”
“No. ” Marianne wraps her arms around me and lets me sob onto her shoulder. “You’ve done your very best, Cate. As a mother, I can tell you, that’s all you can do. Anna would be proud. ”
The clink of china and crystal and silver stops in the dining room, and footsteps make their way toward us. Marianne and I draw apart, and I wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Thank you,” I say, a little embarrassed.
“Mama!” Clara calls. “Finn’s here!”
Chapter 14
FINN AMBLES INTO THE KITCHEN CARRYING an armful of gifts. My heart lifts at the sight of him. “Merry Christmas, Mother!” he says, giving her a one-armed hug. I hang back, waiting for him to notice me. It’s strange to feel so tentative with him; it makes me realize how accustomed I was to taking the lead, before.
“Hello, Cate. ” When Finn notices my tearstained face, he whirls back to Marianne. “Mother, what did you say to her?”
“It was nothing,” I insist. “I’m fine. ”
“It’s not nothing, not if she’s making you cry. I’m a grown man. I don’t need my mother fighting my battles,” Finn grumbles. His waistcoat and trousers are charcoal gray, his shirt a crisp snowy white. It looks well on him. He’s even combed his hair down neatly.
“It wasn’t like that. ” I turn to Marianne with a smile. “She was kinder than I deserve. ”
Marianne tsks. “Cate, you’re twelve times harder on yourself than anyone else is. Now, why don’t you help Finn take those presents into the parlor? Send Tess and Clara in to help me. You’re no use in the kitchen at all, are you?”
I send the girls into the kitchen, then pile the presents beneath the front window while Father pours Finn a glass of scotch. They settle in the leather armchairs, and I sit across from them on the golden sofa, toying with the tassels on a pillow and trying not to be terribly obvious about watching Finn. My ears perk up when their conversation turns to the outbreak of fever.
“Had no idea until I read about it in the Gazette this morning,” Father says. “Hasn’t hit Chatham yet, thank the Lord. Have you seen much evidence of it here?”
“It hasn’t made inroads to the council yet, but Cate’s seen her share of it at the hospital. ” Finn takes a sip from his tumbler.
“I’ve been volunteering. As a nurse,” I explain. “The hospital’s been packed to the gills with patients from the river district—and yesterday there were some from the market district, too. You’ve got to be careful, Father. If you start to feel ill, you must send for me at once. ”
“You, a nurse?” Father laughs.
His words strike a chord, reminding me of the time Finn fell off a ladder working on our gazebo. I wrapped his ankle so Mrs. O’Hare wouldn’t catch sight of the illegal pistol strapped to his shin.
He won’t remember that.
“I have an affinity for healing magic. ” Father darts an anxious look at Finn, and I smile. “It’s all right. He knows. Anyhow, I’m glad Merriweather finally urged people to take precautions. ”
Father looks dumbstruck. “You read the Gazette?”
This time I feel a pinprick of irritation. “I’m not illiterate,” I snap, mortified that he’s making me out to be such a dunce in front of Finn.
“Of course not. I didn’t mean . . . ” Father chooses his words carefully. “You’re a very capable girl. More capable than I dreamed, it seems. But you’ve never been one for politics. It’s good that you’re taking an interest—more women ought to be informed. ”
Finn gives me his mischievous grin. “Cate’s well informed, all right. She’s the one who introduced me to Merriweather and the Resistance movement. Did you read that feature today about the boy who was sick, couldn’t get a bed in the hospital, and was healed by a witch?”
“Yes. ” Father rubs a hand over his jaw. “Do you mean to tell me you were the witch?”
I nod, gratitude rushing over me. Even though he’s angry with me, Finn is still flying to my rescue. And he’s such a progressive where women are concerned—far more than Father or Merriweather. That’s down to having Marianne as a mother, I suppose. Another reason to thank her.
Father is frowning. “Merriweather’s a wanted man. I don’t want you putting yourself in danger to—”
“Father,” I interrupt him, voice gentle this time. “I’m a witch. That makes me a wanted woman. ”
“You’re still my daughter. I’m no supporter of the Brotherhood, but I want you safe first and foremost. ” He stares past me at the candles on the windowsill. “I do miss the old days, though. ” He sighs, and I wonder if his second glass of scotch is making him sentimental. “Back before Christmas trees were outlawed—I’ve told you about that, haven’t I? My father and I would go out into the woods and cut one down ourselves. My sister spent a week making paper cornucopias to put stuffed dates and sugared almonds in, and Mother made snowflakes out of lace. ”
“My father said it was a beautiful tradition. ” Finn looks somber. He must miss his father, just as I miss Mother, on days like this.