Holding her head up high, Liddy bobbed her head regally and smiled happily. She pulled the skirt of her dark-blue dress to the side, twisting her wrist to show off the deep flounce at the hem. Then she patted her matching hair bow. “Mrs. Vance helped me,” she said with a hint of smug satisfaction that had the ladies repressing laughter.
“I agree with Cecilia,” said Julia. “Did Mrs. Vance tell you what might happen today?”
Liddy nodded.
“And are you ready?”
Her brows pulled together and her lips tightened for a moment. “Yes!” she finally said, nodding decisively. Then her face shifted, and she looked at them with trepidation. “You will be with me, won’t you?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Now let’s eat so you can have your strength to answer honestly and clearly any questions that come to you.”
“Gentlemen,” said Julia, addressing Mr. Quetal and Mr. Hobart. “I see the curiosity on your faces. Our Miss Lydia was awitness to some of the activity the night Mr. Montgomery died. It has been requested that she provide an accounting of what she saw to the magistrate.”
“Our Liddy?” Mr. Hobart said.
“Yes, she was out past curfew with Mr. Montgomery. He ordered her back in the house. Liddy being Liddy, dallied and heard some things the magistrate should know.”
“You poor child,” Mr. Hobart said. His voice sounded flat, his eyes darting around. His manner troubled Cecilia. Quite at odds with how he’d been on previous occasions. He did not strike her as the least sympathetic and more like someone who wished to run off to tell what he’d heard. She had not thought that of him. She turned to the former estate agent. Now she could not afford to be as straight forward with him as she had intended. She considered her words carefully.
“Mr. Quetal, remember I told you I had a book for you to examine? Can you come with me after breakfast to look at it? I think it needs repair and you strike me as someone who could do the job,” Cecilia said.
“I’d be delighted to, Lady Branstoke.”
“Thank you,” she said with a broad smile. “The library is such an important part of Camden House, I would not like the materials to begin to fall apart,” she said.
Julia looked at Cecilia with a question in her eyes. She nodded back at her faintly.
“Mr. Hobart, have you ever been in Mr. Montgomery’s room?” Cecilia asked, turning back to him. From his last statement and manner, her trust in the handsome fribble waned.
“No, I can’t say as I have, Lady Branstoke. Why do you ask?” he asked smoothly, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with his serviette.
She waved a hand airily. “I just thought the décor is something you might appreciate.”
“Mr. Montgomery loved color,” Mr. Hobart said.
“Yes, he did. A rich tapestry of colors—Romney influenced, perhaps?”
He laughed. “A good description.”
“But you said you’d never been in his room.”
“I—I haven’t. He described it to me,” he said.
“Of course,” Cecilia said, nodding gently. Under the table she kicked Julia, though she smiled benignly.
Julia scowled at Mr. Hobart then looked back at Cecilia. “I must admit to being disappointed.”
“Disappointed at what?” Mr. Hobart asked.
Julia laughed. “Nothing to concern you, Mr. Hobart. Just women talk. I’m sorry we changed the subject on you so abruptly. I was referring to something Lady Branstoke and I were discussing as we came downstairs. So silly.—Do you think, Mr. Hobart, that you could sit for me outside after breakfast? I should like to catch your likeness in charcoal,” she said.
Cecilia smiled at her and nodded. Julia would get Mr. Hobart out of the way while Mr. Quetal examined the book.
“I used to draw all the time and confess I am woefully out of practice,” Julia continued. “I think your features are a good reason to pick up my charcoal again. Can we meet on the terrace after breakfast, do you suppose?”
“I should be honored, Lady Stackpoole. I do have one little errand I should like to take care of first.”
“Oh, but the light is so perfect right now! It should not hold you back long. Please, can we do it immediately?” she asked.
