Cecilia blinked. A home farm, tenant farms, and a child with a pony was not the description of a poor family. Why was she in the dormitory?
Mrs. Vance’s door opened, and Liddy ran to see her before she could raise another question.
“Good morning, precious girl,” Mrs. Vance enthused. “I see we need to get you some clothes. You are more lacking in proper attire than I am. I need to get my petticoat.”
She opened the ornate cupboard where she’d shoved her petticoat the night before. As she pulled the garment out, a large leather ledger fell on the floor. “What’s this?” she said as she picked it up.
“That’s Mr. Montgomery’s,” Liddy said. “He told me to hide it.”
Cecilia came forward, taking the book from Mrs. Vance. “When did he tell you that?”
“That night.”
“That night? The night he died?” Cecilia asked.
Tears welled up in Liddy’s eyes. “I don’t think of it,” she said, turning away and running across the hall to the windows on the other side of the hall.
Mrs. Vance and Cecilia exchanged startled looks, then Mrs. Vance went to console Liddy as Julia came out of her room.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Cecilia said. “Mr. Montgomery asked Liddy to hide this ledger and she hid it in this cupboard.” She touched the cupboard behind her.
“When was this?”
“Judging by Liddy’s reaction by recalling the event, it was the night he died. I’m going to hide this in my room for now. We’ll need to examine it after breakfast.”
Julia nodded.
When Cecilia came back into the hall, she saw Julia had joined Mrs. Vance and Liddy by the window. “Shall we go to the dormitory to find something for Liddy to wear?” she asked.
“I think that is a good idea,” said Mrs. Vance. “Come Liddy, dry your eyes now. It is a new day, and you are going to spend it with me. We can read stories, go outside, and do anything you want to do today. How would you like that?”
She nodded, but without her typical exuberance. Cecilia felt her heart cry for the child.
There were four women’s dormitory rooms, each with four beds. Liddy led them to her room. She stopped outside the door. “Shh,” she whispered. “Mrs. Johnson is always sleeping. I have to be quiet.”
She carefully opened the door and walked past the first bed where an old, frail-looking woman snored gently. At the second bed, she carefully pulled a large, flattish trunk out from under her cot. Mrs. Vance helped her change out of her nightgown into one of the three dresses in the trunk while Julia made her bed. Cecilia looked around the room with curiosity. One other bed was neatly made, the fourth had clothes stuffed under the covers to resemble a person sleeping there. In the dark, it probably did and only in the light of day could the sham be clearly seen. Miss Dorn’s bed, she assumed.
Mrs. Vance tidied Liddy’s hair with a brush and a hair ribbon from the trunk. In her clean clothes and with her dark brown hair in a braid down her back, Liddy resumed her cheerful demeanor. They followed her back out of the room and headed for breakfast in the old chapel.
Though Cecilia wanted to question Liddy more, she hesitated, loath to cause the child any additional grief. Perhaps the ledger would provide answers.
CHAPTER 19
BOYD RATCLIFFE
Mr. Ratcliffe possessed a well-to-do property. The grounds were scrupulously maintained with tight edgings and conformed hedges. The house was of moderate size; no ivy was allowed to grow up the sides and the numerous windows sparkled cleanly in the morning light. All in all, it was a handsome, wealthy estate. James had learned Mr. Ratcliffe was a banker. Now he saw he was a prosperous banker.
The large entry hall had niches in the walls with statuary of male nudes; many, copies of famous Roman and Greek pieces. Lining the stairway were cupids. James exchanged glances with Mr. Ramsay as they walked across the hall.
Ratcliffe’s butler showed them into a shadowed library toward the back of the house. The butler went to the long, draped windows at the far end of the room and pushed open the dark-burgundy velvet drapes to let some morning light into the room. Smaller statues stood on pedestals in all corners of the room, and a bronze statue took pride of place on the corner of the desk.
“The master will see you shortly,” the butler said before bowing and closing the door behind him.
“So, the posturing begins,” James said softly as they sat down in front of the desk.
Mr. Ramsay smiled and crossed one lanky leg over the other, his hands clasped about his knee.
