Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House(43)

“Are you ill?” I demanded.

“No,” she said.

“Then why are you not seeing to Robert?”

“I don’ take care a those with no fever. I see how that boy of Mr. and Mrs. Burton die. No, sir, I don’ have nothin’ to do with no fever!”

“But you must! He needs care!”

“No! I don’ go in there!” she said, staring me down.

I left to arrange for a nurse, but the rage I had suppressed toward Delia these past years was back in full blossom.


DAILY I CHECKED to ensure that Robert was cared for until he began to recover. The morning I found him sitting up in a chair, he asked the nurse to leave so he and I might be alone together.

“What is it?” I moved my chair closer to him.

“Where is Delia? Why is she not caring for me?” Robert asked.

“She refused. She said she wouldn’t care for anyone with a fever.”

His eyebrows shot up. “She refused? And you were required to hire someone in?”

“I had no choice.”

He shook his head. “She goes too far!”

I saw my opportunity. “I don’t trust her. I never have. I know you depend on her, but I would like her to be dismissed.”

“It is Mrs. Burton who depends on her. I would be happy to see her leave,” he said.

Now my eyes opened in surprise. “If you agree, I would be happy to speak to Mrs. Burton about discharging her,” I said.

Robert looked toward the closed door before he leaned forward to speak quietly. “On my arrival, Delia was already employed with the Burtons. She resented my taking over the household and went to Mrs. Burton with a rumor that regrettably followed me from Europe.” He leaned his forehead on the tips of his long fingers and closed his eyes. After a long minute, he straightened to look at me. “The rumor was true, but fortunately, the Burtons were open-minded. On the promise that I would give no further cause for gossip, they kept me on.”

Robert, too, had secrets! And such a damaging one that the Burtons might have dismissed this wonderful man! What a relief to know that I wasn’t alone in this. His candor gave me the courage to speak more openly about Delia. “I don’t trust her. Years ago she stole something from my room.”

His dark brown eyes looked at me carefully. “Why didn’t you tell Mr. and Mrs. Burton?”

My face grew hot. “It involves my past,” I said. “They . . . it . . . would have been upsetting to them.”

“I see,” he said, avoiding my eyes as he smoothed the blanket that covered his lap. “I should have told you this before. Years ago I overheard a conversation wherein Delia told Ed that she had information—damaging information—about you. Ed was upset and made her promise to stay quiet.”

“Weren’t you concerned?” I asked. “Didn’t you wonder what it was about?”

Robert met my eyes. “I knew that you did not mean to harm the Burtons. In fact, you brought this household back to life, and Mr. Burton died in peace because of you.”

My gratitude to him brought tears to my eyes. “Thank you, Robert,” I said.

“I am not an innocent,” Robert said. “We all carry burdens from our past, but it is not for others to exploit them.”

I breathed in deeply. It felt as though a large weight had been lifted off my shoulders. For the first time since Delia’s theft, I felt some measure of relief; now I knew I had Robert’s support. “As soon as you are well, I will see to it that Delia is removed,” I said. “It is my responsibility.”

“I will leave it to you, then,” he said. “But tread carefully. She can be ruthless.”


I WAITED UNTIL Robert was back in good health before I sought Delia out. On an early morning before I left for work, I startled her just as she was sitting down to enjoy a cup of coffee.

“I would like you to give my letter back!” I said, approaching her.

“I don’ know what you’s talkin’ ’bout,” she said, setting down her cup with careful precision on the weathered table.

I glared at her. “The letter that you stole from me years ago. It is mine, and I want you to give it back to me.”

She stood up hurriedly and began to gather the morning dishes. “I never say nothin’ to nobody. I don’ know why you comin’ at me like this now.”

“I want that letter back! It is mine!” My hands clenched in fury.

“Delia don’ got no letter.”

“Then where is it?” I asked.

“She never do have no letter,” she said, continuing to stack the dishes.

“You are lying!” I grabbed her wrist and sent a blue and white saucer spinning to the floor. “I said I want it back now!”

She jerked her arm free and backed away. “That letter make sure I stay in this house. You best forget about it.”

“You will regret this!” I said, and inflamed, I turned to go while I still had control of myself.

That day I was useless at work. I spent the bulk of the morning pacing. How should I proceed? Did she still have the letter, or had she gotten rid of it? When I dismissed her, what might she do? Would she go to Mrs. Burton?

I left for home in the early afternoon, deciding to go directly to Mrs. Burton and tell her that Delia must leave. However, on my arrival, I didn’t find Mrs. Burton resting in her room, where I had expected her to be. Instead I found her sitting with Malcolm in Mr. Burton’s room.