The following morning, I appeared at Mama's door before breakfast. The wedding situation could not remain unaddressed. I had to act firmly despite my mother's delicate condition. If I didn't, the problem would grow enormously.

Grasping the door handle, I thrust it open and entered. An infant's squalling greeted me. Jane stood by the bassinet with a baby bottle in her hand. Gently, she lifted young Jesse and began to feed him.

Mama sprawled on her divan, her filmy negligee encircling her like a cloud. She stretched out her hands for the baby. Jane gave him to her along with the bottle.

"Good morning, Priscilla," my mother called gleefully. She looked radiant. "It's a long time since we've had a little one in the family. Isn't Jesse delightful?"

"Yes, Mama," I responded dutifully, "but why are you looking after him? Where's Lottie?"

"Joel and Charlotte left on the London train early this morning," Mama explained, cooing at the newborn. "They're staying in the townhouse for a few weeks."

A shocked expression crossed my face. The baby was barely a few days old and required his mother's care and attention. Joel and Lottie flippantly left the child's care to Mama and her personal maid. I could hardly believe it. It seemed unnatural.

"But why have they left the baby?" I stammered, moving closer to the divan.

"Charlotte said she needed a break after the birth. The labor lasted more than thirty hours, Priscilla, dear," Mama explained, cuddling Jesse. "After such a prolonged period, the doctor suggested a cesarean. Lottie refused and finally succeeded in a natural birth."

"Oh," I stated blankly. "Surely, if Lottie needed a break, she should have taken Jesse with her."

"She should have hired a nurse," Jane interrupted briskly. "I expect, under the circumstances, she didn't consider it. Your Mama will explain the circumstances when Joel and Lottie return. A nurse first, then later a Nanny. We think Ann Marie will fit the role perfectly. Later, Miss Young will act as a governess. Eventually, Mr. Blanchard will become his tutor."

"Miss Young? But Miss Young intends to marry Mr. Blanchard when her duties here end," I exclaimed quickly. "Surely you realize they are in love."

"Marry? Oh, really, Priscilla," Mama chided, rebuffing my statement. "Surely, Miss Young isn't foolish. She is above thirty, after all. Romance has passed her by. She shall remain a governess throughout all her days."

"That is certainly unfair, Mama," I protested hotly. "Miss Young and Mr. Blanchard have waited an awful long time. Joel, Grayson, and I are grown, and they should have their freedom. If they wish to marry, they shall certainly."

"Jane has remained with me my entire life, my dear," my mother countered. "She has no intention to leave me and marry. Do you, Jane?"

"Indeed no, Mistress." Mama's companion bobbed a neat curtsey. "I wouldn't leave you if my life depended upon it."

"There," my mother stated confidently. "Miss Young, I am sure, feels the same way. She will remain dutiful to the family. It is the only position open to her."

"Well," I hmphed indignantly. "There's certainly more to life than serving other people's children. Perhaps Miss Young and Mr. Blanchard wish for their own family."

I plopped onto a nearby stool and frowned. As an invalid, Mama missed the reality of the situation. She never participated in family events and didn't see our interactions with each other. If my mother had lived an everyday life, she would have noticed the growing relationship between the governess and the tutor. Instead, she dismissed it and wove their lives through her imagination.

Miss Young was nothing like docile Jane. She loved fiercely, and Mr. Blanchard reciprocated her emotion. She would eventually wither and become an old spinster if they could not marry. I dreaded the thought of Mama forcing her to remain in her position while young Jesse grew up.

Thoughts of the governess's future shifted toward my fears. I intended to make my position concerning my wedding apparent to Mama. Clearing my throat, I began.

"I wanted to discuss my wedding, Mama," I stated plainly. "Spencer and I are getting married in the spring. We cannot accomplish it any time soon. I don't comprehend how our plans changed while I stayed in Yorkshire. I want to make sure you understand."

Mama sighed and leaned back against her divan. I expected an argument, but she conceded instantly.

"Charlotte was quite disappointed in you, Priscilla," my mother finally stated. "Nevertheless, she accepted the change in plan. When you set the date, Bertha and Despina will return."

"Bertha and Despina!" I sputtered indignantly. "You mean Cordelia and Viola. I've already arranged for Spencer's sisters to act as bridesmaids...and Dinah is my maid of honor. I am adamant, Mama."

"You should never change plans in mid-stream," Mama exclaimed vehemently. "It's unfair to the participants. Set a plan and stick to it. You will avoid all this confusion."

"Confusion!" I shouted, rising abruptly. "Surely I know my plans, Mama! I never asked Lottie, and I have no intention of having the weird sisters at my wedding. You must realize..."

"Yes, confusion." My mother leaned toward me, leering. "You ask certain people to participate in the wedding, then change your mind practically overnight. It is unfair, Priscilla."

"Unfair?" I gaped at my mother, my mind whirling. "I never asked Lottie in the first place. I had no intention of asking Lottie. How did she get involved in my wedding? I don't like her, don't get along with her. Why would I ask her?"

"Nevertheless, you asked her, Priscilla," Mama wailed, her face pale. "You cannot back out. Jane! The smelling salts, quickly. I feel faint."

"You always feel faint when it's important," I shrieked, losing control. "You avoid confrontations. You don't want to listen. It's my wedding, my choice. Please listen. If I say I don't want Lottie or her sisters, I mean it, Mama."

"Please, Priscilla," Jane hissed, taking my arm. Deftly, she led me from the room and shut the door in my face.

I stood in the corridor, my head leaning against the closed door. Never in my entire life had anyone ejected me from my mother's chamber. I felt like an outcast. My world collapsed around me. Sobbing, I sank to the floor and prostrated myself on the carpet. I could hear Jane speaking to my mother soothingly and Mama's faint responses.

What made Mama so sure of my choices? After all the careful planning I put into my wedding. My vision turned upside down, and insanity pressed against my brain. Finally, I rose and returned to my bedroom.

Full of angst, I wrote another letter to Spencer, although he hadn't responded to my previous one. I begged him to return to Everstow and straighten everything out. He was the only one who knew my actual plans. Summoning Anne Marie, I implored her to put it in the post immediately.

Two weeks passed. I did not hear from my fiancé, nor did he appear. In the meantime, I returned to Mama's chamber and carefully laid out my plans. She accepted them docilely. I wrote again to Spencer, telling him the situation had settled and everything was running smoothly.

Peace prevailed at Everstow. Mama and I worked diligently toward accomplishing my goals. The seamstress measured Dinah for her Maid of Honor dress, and I wrote to Cordelia and Viola expressing my design for their gowns. I felt satisfied with all the plans.

Out of the blue, Joel and Lottie returned suddenly. My eldest brother stormed into the great hall, slamming the door behind him. He marched up the grand staircase, and his chamber door slammed along the upper corridor.

Lottie appeared moments later, prodding Cassandra ahead of her. The child protested loudly, causing an abusive statement from her older sister. Papa and I rushed into the hall to see the commotion.

"You had to open your big mouth," my sister-in-law exclaimed, her vehement face turning violet with rage. "How many times have I told you? Sisters! Get it, Sisters."

"But...I thought," Cassandra sputtered, turning and spreading her arms wide.

"That's the problem," Lottie shrieked, "you thought. You think entirely too much."

"Joel's your husband. He should know the truth," the girl continued, grasping Lottie's arm.

Charlotte shook off the child's hand and, raising her arm high above her head, slapped the girl across the mouth forcefully. Cassandra lost her balance and sprawled across the tile floor.

"That's enough of that!" Papa shouted, rushing toward the sisters. "You will not strike another human being in my house."

Lottie glared at Papa and then marched upstairs, spinning on her heels. Another door slamming resounded along the corridor. I watched her flee, then turned my attention to the youngest Plumb child. Lifting Cassandra to her feet, I wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Come along into the parlor," I soothed, placing my arm around her shoulder. "I'll call for tea, and then you can tell me what's wrong."

Cassandra nodded solemnly and sniffled. She plodded beside me, her head bowed and shuffling her feet. I led her to the settee and sat beside her, holding her hands. Following in our shadow, Papa stood at the fireplace, looking into the flames. He disliked confrontations as much as Mama did.

While we awaited the tea trolley, I grasped Cassandra's hands and asked her about the situation with Lottie.

"I'm not to say, Miss," the child answered downheartedly. "I shouldn't have told Mr. Joel, only I thought he was her husband. He should know, shouldn't he?"

"Should know what, dear?" I asked, brushing aside her blonde ringlets.

"Charlotte's my mother, not my sister," Cassandra stated, tears welling in her eyes. "I only found out by accident. They were talking...I mean Bertha and Despina...and they didn't know I was hiding under the bed. They thought it was funny how Lottie deceived Mr. Joel and all."

My shocked expression halted the girl's words. Her face grew pallid, and her lips trembled. The folds in her chin told me she was about to bawl. Papa turned to stare at us, his face enraged. Noticing his expression, I cautioned him to hold his tongue. Cassandra seemed terrorized enough without Papa's anger falling upon her frail shoulders.

"Oh, I shouldn't have told you," the child cried remorsefully. "I'm already in trouble, and I've made it worse now." Hiding her eyes behind her palms, she sobbed.

"Everything will come out all right, Cassie," I hugged her. "May I call you Cassie?"

"Yes, Miss," she answered, looking up and smiling slightly. "I would like that very much, Miss."

"And you can call me Priscilla," I answered, returning her smile. "Is that all right?"

"Yes, Miss Priscilla," Cassandra whispered.

The tea trolley arrived along with Joel. He collapsed into an easy chair, his face full of fury. Leaping to her feet, Cassandra ran toward the door. I followed her quickly and brought her back to the settee.

"It's all right, Cassie," I pacified her. "Have a cup of tea. It will calm you." I poured milk into the cup and added tea. When I handed it to her, the cup rattled in its saucer.

"When the child is finished, take her up to the nursery, Priscilla," Papa stated, his voice harsh. "Your brother and I will have a long discussion."

Joel sank further into his chair but nodded somberly. He looked as though he had lost the ability to breathe. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, and he wore a perpetual frown. Papa glared down at him, thickening the atmosphere in the room.

Cassandra and I retreated to the nursery when she finished her refreshment. Miss Young and Mr. Blanchard seemed surprised to see her. I hastily explained that she had returned with Joel and Lottie and would stay with us indefinitely.