“Stop!” Cecilia called after her. From out in the hall somewhere she heard a woman’s voice call out, “Liddy! What have you been up to?”
Cecilia swung her feet to the floor and put her shoes on, then walked to the door and looked down the hall. A woman stood in the middle of the hall, turned away from Cecilia, looking inthe direction the young girl fled. She hitched her shawl up her shoulder and shook her head. She turned in Cecilia’s direction.
“Who was that girl?” Cecilia asked the woman as she walked out into the hall.
“Miss Lydia, or as we here call her, Liddy,” the woman replied.
“She lives here?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“I woke up to see her in my room trying to get into my portmanteau.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The woman walked up to Cecilia. “I’m Lady Stackpoole, but please call me Julia. Many of us are quite informal here.”
“Benjamin Stackpoole’s mother!” Cecilia exclaimed.
“Yes. How do you know my son?”
“I beg your pardon. I am Lady Branstoke, you can call me Cecilia. We met your son on our way here. He had suffered a carriage accident.”
“Accident? Was he all right? Where was this?” Julia wrung her hands. “That is what I do dislike about being here, missing my son,” she lamented.
“He survived the accident with just a sprained wrist. He’d been on his way to see you.”
“To see me? It isn’t time for his quarterly visit. Why would he be coming to see me now?”
“Because of Mr. Montgomery.”
“Malcolm Montgomery from here? His death you mean? But why would Mr. Montgomery be of interest to Benjamin?—No, wait,” she said, looking around the hall. “Let’s go into my room to talk,” she said looking around the broad hall. “More private. In our small piece of the world, everyone is curious about everything around us, and poor Mr. Montgomery’s death hasbeen on all tongues since it happened.” She led Cecilia into her small room and carefully shut the door after them.
Lady Stackpoole’s room appeared as a mirror of Cecilia’s, save for the coloring. Whereas Cecila’s room was blue with cream and burgundy, Lady Stackpoole’s was shades of green, cream, and burgundy. There were several large planters in her room as well, filled with ferns and small palms. They reminded Cecilia of the plants in Soothcoor’s stepmother’s conservatory at Appleton—without the poisonousGloriosa Superbaplants she’d discovered there. A small painting of a younger Benjamin Stackpoole stood on the fireplace mantle.
Cecilia crossed to the fireplace to look at the picture closely. “When was this painted? He looks much older now.”
Julia joined Cecilia by the mantle. She smiled in affectionate memory. “He is. He was seventeen in that picture before he went to university. Now he wants to travel the world while serving his country on diplomatic missions,” she said with pride.
“Which, I gather from Mr. Stackpoole, his father opposes.”
Julia’s face fell. “Yes, this is true. Be assured, Benjamin will not bow to his father’s edicts. It has become a subject of estrangement between my husband and Benjamin.”
“Are you aware Mr. Stackpoole has a fiancée?”
“A fiancée! Last time he was here, he said there was a young lady he was courting but wouldn’t say anything more until he’d asked for her hand. I take it he has asked and she said yes? Is that why he was coming to see me?” Excitement crept back into Julia’s voice.
“I am probably speaking out of turn as this is your son’s tale to relate; however, I will admit Baron Stackpoole opposed the match initially because the young lady is Scottish.”
“Scottish?!”
“Yes. I do not know Aileen—that is her name—or her siblings. I only know her mother, Mrs. Montgomery.”
“Montgomery?” Julia stared at her.
“Yes,”
Julia worried the fingertips of her left hand together. “Do you know if my Benjamin’s fiancée’s family has any relation to our Mr. Malcolm Montgomery?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yes. Aileen Montgomery is his daughter.”
