A Lasting Impression

listening.
    “And may I assume you heard me explain about how we met?”
    “Yes, ma’am, you may.” He debated whether to be forthcoming about his doubts regarding the motivation behind her honesty. Force of habit told him yes, but considering their paths would likely not cross again—a thought that disappointed him more than he would have imagined—he decided to keep that observation to himself. “And let me assure you that despite a little good-natured fun on my part, I actually happened into the sanctuary toward the latter stages of your . . . public ablutions . ”
    He watched her, hoping the words would coax a blush. He wasn’t disappointed.
    “Public ablutions?” A hint of pink crept into her cheeks. “That makes it sound even worse than it was.”
    “You’re right.” He eyed her. “Would female capers be more appropriate, Miss Laurent?”
    “Not mentioning it again would be more so, Mr. Monroe.” Her eyes brightened the littlest bit, like someone had struck a match deep inside her.
    And in a way Sutton couldn’t have explained if he’d tried, he felt honored to be on the receiving end of that light.
    Adelicia had made the right decision in saying no to her. Claire Laurent was not the best candidate for the position . He knew that, and his instincts rarely failed him in that regard. Yet, he would have liked the chance to get to know her better. Which, when considering his understanding with Cara Netta LeVert and the uncertainty of his own financial position, made that desire both untoward and unwise. And best dismissed.
    But he’d say one thing for Miss Laurent, for having appeared to want the position so badly, she was taking the rejection well. And he sought to encourage her in that regard. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Miss Laurent, there were many applicants for this position, so please don’t let it—”
    “Miss Laurent?”
    He turned. Miss Laurent did the same.
    Adelicia stood by the open front door, alone. She gestured. “As you can see, the Buntings are waiting for you.”
    Sutton looked outside, and sure enough, the reverend and his wife were already seated in their buggy. He hadn’t even heard them leave.
    Miss Laurent hurried to the door. “Mrs. Acklen, I . . .” Lips pressed together, she bowed her head. “I-I want you to know that . . .” She slowly looked up, as though meeting Adelicia’s gaze would be painful.
    Which, for her, Sutton guessed it would be.
    “Miss Laurent, I believe that you have already said everything to me that is required.” Adelicia glanced outside and returned Mrs. Bunting’s wave with a gracious smile. When she looked back, her smile had cooled. “And I’m quite certain I have made myself abundantly clear to you. Have I not?”
    Miss Laurent’s lower lip trembled. “Yes, ma’am,” she whispered, not looking up again. She curtsied and left without a backward glance.
    Adelicia closed the door before Miss Laurent even reached the bottom step, but Sutton could still make out the young woman’s form through the rose-colored glass of the side window. Eli assisted her into the buggy, and Reverend Bunting guided the horses down the lane.
    Adelicia turned in the direction of the study. “If you’ll join me, Mr. Monroe, I’m interested in hearing your thoughts.”
    Sutton didn’t move. He only stared at his employer, knowing he needed to take care with what he said next. He’d witnessed Adelicia’s occasional callousness before. Wealthy beyond what most people realized, much less could fathom, she was a woman accustomed to having her way. Willing to fight to get it, and to keep it.
    He recalled the journey they’d made to Louisiana during the latter part of the war, and a cool wind of realization blew through him. What that decision had almost cost her . . . cost them all.
    But in the end, it had paid off, as they said at the horse track. And paid off royally.
    He’d worked for her, or her late husband, in different capacities over the past eight years, and he’d known her and her family on a personal basis even longer. She had moments of generosity that left him speechless, but she could be critical of others when they didn’t meet her high standards. Even then he’d never seen her treat someone of lesser rank with such lack of feeling and in so offhanded a manner.
    She paused and looked back. “Is there a problem?”
    “Yes, ma’am. There is.”
    She took a step back in his direction. “You’re upset with my