“Sarah, dear, what a surprise,” Mrs. Decker said, hurrying to meet her. She did her best to conceal her shock, but only partially succeeded.

“Sarah, is that you?” Mrs. Astor asked. “How delightful to see you! Elizabeth didn’t tell us you were coming.”

“She didn’t know,” Sarah said, smiling as graciously as she could while grinding her teeth in frustration. She needed to speak to her mother alone, not spend hours in meaningless small talk with a group of ladies whose interests were limited to the weather and the foibles of their neighbors.

By then, her mother had reached her and was staring at her anxiously, obviously sensing her agitation. “What is it, dear?” she asked in a near whisper. “Has something happened?”

“No, nothing,” she assured her just as quietly. “I just needed your advice on something.”

Her mother’s lovely eyes lit with surprise and pleasure, but she kept her voice even when she said, “Won’t you join us for tea? I think you know everyone.” Sending Sarah a silent apology that reminded her that her family’s lives were still bound by strict social conventions, her mother reminded her of everyone’s name as the maids brought another chair and laid a place for her with the gold-edged china.

“Tea” was really a meal, served with pomp and ceremony on the best china and silver. The tea itself was poured from a large silver pot into dainty white and gold dinner teacups. Trays of sliced cold chicken garnished with nasturtium leaves, daintily cut slices of ham, and strips of tongue were passed. The bread was cut in thin strips and already buttered. Around the table stood small silver pots of preserves of strawberry and gooseberry and orange marmalade and honey in the comb. Silver baskets covered with lace held slices of golden sponge cake and rich, dark fruitcake, and on another silver tray stood Dresden china cups filled with custard and garnished with a generous amount of grated nutmeg.

Sarah managed to sample each treat as it went by her, but she really wasn’t hungry. She just wanted all these people to be gone. Sarah was seated too far from her mother to even whisper anything about the purpose of her visit, but her mother knew what she was concerned about these days.

After Mrs. Astor had held forth on the advisability of traveling abroad so early in the season-an inordinate number of icebergs had been spotted recently in the North Atlantic in spite of the unseasonably warm weather-Mrs. Decker brought up the subject nearest to Sarah’s heart.

“What a tragedy about the youngest VanDamm girl,” she remarked with creditable nonchalance.

“Oh, yes,” said one of the other ladies. “I heard Francisca is prostrate with grief.”

“She’s been prostrate with something for the past ten years,” Mrs. Astor said. “And I suppose anyone would expire if her parents were going to marry her off to Sylvester Mattingly.”

“It’s true then?” Sarah couldn’t help asking. “They really intended such a match?”

“Oh, I heard the same thing,” someone else offered. “Although I could hardly believe it. If they were in a hurry to marry her off, they should have sent her to England. My son-in-law, Lord Harpster has several quite eligible kinsmen who would be happy to make the acquaintance of an American heiress.”

“Where she could buy herself a penniless nobleman?” another woman scoffed.

While the women debated the merits of marrying off wealthy American girls to poverty-stricken English noble-men just to have a titled lady in the family-a practice that had become so widespread it had a name: Anglo-mania, Sarah considered what she had heard. Apparently, her mother was correct. The VanDamms really had considered marrying their daughter to the elderly attorney, and no one could quite understand why.

After what seemed an eternity of clanking silver and china and meaningless conversation, her mother’s guests were finally forced to take their leave, albeit reluctantly. They obviously sensed Sarah had come for something important and were hoping to catch at least a hint of what that might be. In spite of their best efforts to draw her out, they left disappointed.

When the last guest had gone, Sarah’s mother took her into the parlor, slid the pocket doors closed and turned to face her. “Now tell me what’s happened. Something has happened, hasn’t it?”

“I’m not really sure, Mother,” she said as her mother sat down beside her on the sofa and took her hand. “I heard something today that upset me, and I’m wondering if it might be true.”

“Something about our family…?” she asked with a worried frown.

“Oh, no, of course not,” she assured her hastily, and for a second wondered if her mother knew of something she might have heard. “It’s about Alicia VanDamm.”

Her mother frowned in disapproval. “Oh, my, I was afraid you’d still be worrying yourself about that.”

“I noticed you managed to confirm that rumor about Mattingly for me. Thank you.”

Her mother frowned. “I’m not sure I should be encouraging you in this, and I’m sure I shouldn’t be helping you, but I can’t seem to stop myself. Now tell me, what have you learned?”

“I went to see Mrs. VanDamm today.”

Her mother didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “She received you? You heard Mrs. Astor, Francisca VanDamm hasn’t been out of her bedroom in a decade!”

“She didn’t come out today, either. I think she agreed to see me because I’m a midwife, and she wanted some medical advice.”

“She can’t think she’s with child!” her mother exclaimed. “She’s much too old for such a thing!”

“Of course she is, but she thought I might be able to advise her on her various ailments, so she allowed me to see her. And while I was there, she told me something very disturbing. She said she hasn’t had marital relations with her husband since Mina was born.”

Her mother gaped at her, as shocked as if Sarah had slapped her, and for a moment she didn’t even breathe. Finally, she managed to gasp, “Sarah, really, I can’t believe-”

“Oh, mother, don’t be prudish,” Sarah said, impatient as her mother’s attempt at maidenly modesty. “I deliver babies for a living. Do you think I don’t know how they get made?”

“I’m sure you do, but I simply can’t believe you would discuss such a thing in my parlor!”

Sarah really had been gone too long from this world. She’d forgotten that women of her mother’s station in society might live their entire lives without ever acknowledging the intimacies between husbands and wives. Whatever had made her consider confiding such a thing to her mother, much less expect to receive counsel? And how could she have ever been so inconsiderate?

“I’m sorry, Mother. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She rose, preparing to take her leave, ashamed of herself and anxious to be on her way. She knew now to whom she should have gone. Malloy would probably be just as shocked as her mother at her references to intimate relationships, but he wouldn’t let that stop him from helping her figure this out.

But she’d underestimated her mother.

“Don’t go!” she pleaded, capturing Sarah’s hand when she would have gone. “I didn’t mean… I’m afraid I’m just having a little trouble thinking of you as a grown woman. You’re right, of course. I am being prudish. Please stay, and tell me what it is you need advice about, and I’ll try not to be shocked again.”

Her mother looked almost desperate in her need to keep her there, and perhaps she was. Probably she thought that if Sarah left feeling her mother had failed her in some way, she would never return. Sarah didn’t want to believe herself so vindictive, but she had disappeared from her family’s life for years the last time, so perhaps her mother was right to want to keep her here now.

Sarah sat down again, still holding her mother’s hand. “I’m afraid I forget that other people aren’t quite as…” She searched for the proper word. “… as familiar with the more intimate acts of other people’s lives as I am. I’m very sorry that I shocked you, Mother, and hope you won’t take offense.”