They left the tea house at 5 p.m.
The Cullinan rolled into the city streets, Leah seated in the passenger seat, absentmindedly fiddling with a southern magnolia flower in her hand. Her mood seemed subdued; she kept her head slightly lowered, her usually bright eyes dimmed.
Frederick noticed her demeanor immediately.
She had been fine earlier, cheerful even. She’d seemed to enjoy her conversation with Mrs. Stewart, but now her spirits were clearly low. Frederick eased the car into a slower speed and glanced over at her, his tone calm but probing:
“What did you talk about with Mrs. Stewart?”
“Nothing much.”
“Then why are you upset?”
Leah hesitated for a moment, surprised. She had thought her expression was well-controlled, that she hadn’t let any emotion slip. Almost as
